Twelve Thrones: Khiz

1214-05-25

The morning of the festival, I woke up early to avoid disturbing my friends, who were scattered around my house. Lily and Maya were sleeping in the other room, while Ava had taken the couch.

I felt bad about the cramped arrangements, but it was all I could offer. Amanda is picky about where and with whom she sleeps, and I didn't want to risk keeping everyone awake all night.

Even at dawn, the streets were lively. Families and children were busy with last-minute preparations, painting the road in shades of blue with fish designs covering the main path. The festival had barely begun, but the city was already buzzing with energy.

I decided to take Amanda out early to explore, knowing we wouldn't get the chance later. Children darted through the streets, their laughter echoing as their parents looked on proudly. Fathers returning from long journeys embraced their wives, and the soft glow of candles flickered as sunlight began to creep over the horizon.

I felt envious.

Amanda woke with the sunrise, but to my surprise, she didn't cry as usual. Instead, she smiled and reached toward the sky as if trying to grab something. The dragon circling above the island must have caught her attention—she probably thought it was a toy.

As we wandered, the shops began to open. Merchants appeared one by one, each bringing something unique from their homeland. Those from Thethambai wore red and black, while the traders from Ahk stood out in red and white. The merchants from Rali, dressed in yellow and black, set up stalls filled with goods from their cold deserts.

The sight stirred mixed feelings in me. These merchants were protected under the Varvensi Agreement, which guaranteed their safety during festivals. But it infuriated me to see people from enemy nations enjoying our celebrations—sharing our food, mingling with our people, basking in the joy that wasn't theirs to claim.

BAM.

"Are you okay?" I asked the girl as she struggled to get up.

"I'm fine," she replied, rubbing her face and legs as she steadied herself.

I reached out to help her, keeping Amanda balanced in my other arm.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked gently, watching her eyes widen with curiosity.

"What kind of favor?" she asked cautiously.

I crouched to her level. "Would you watch Amanda for me for a little while? I'll make sure you're rewarded—a big prize from the festival."

Her face lit up, but she hesitated. "I have to ask my parents first." 

I watched from a distance as her father glanced my way and gave her a thumbs-up.

 "He said yes! I'll do it!"

Carefully, I passed Amanda to her. Amanda cooed and giggled in her arms.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Anne," she said proudly, cradling Amanda as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

I walked over talking with her parents momentarily. If Amanda were older, I'd want her to go. Keeping her safe was more important than anything. I wouldn't always be able to save her.

I cut her off, already feeling the tension rise.

"Wait," Maya said, crossing her arms. "You're leaving her with someone? Who? Some random kid?"

"She's not some random kid," I snapped. "Her name is Anne. I asked her parents. She'll be fine."

"Are you serious?" Ava asked, incredulous.

"She's safer with Anne than she'd be here!" My voice rose, frustration spilling over.

 "I can't risk her crawling off somewhere or putting something dangerous in her mouth because I was too going to some dumb festival!"

The room fell silent.

"We're not saying you have to—" Maya started, but I cut her off again.

" I shouted, my voice trembling. " I'm not going to lose Amanda, too. Not to some stupid accident or a moment of carelessness."

I realized my hands were shaking as I steadied myself against the counter. Amanda cooed from her spot on the blanket, unaware of the fight.

Maya sighed, her voice softening. "We're just worried about you. About her."

"I know," I murmured, my anger cooling into exhaustion. "But this is the only way I can keep her safe. I'm doing the best I can."

No one said anything after that. Maya returned to her cooking, and the others quietly shuffled to help. The tension lingered, but for now, it stayed unspoken.

That night, May 25th—the Harvest Festival, the Festival of Tides—was the day every island, big or small, came together to celebrate. The streets were alive with the glow of lanterns and the hum of laughter, every corner of Barta brimming with joy.

I had told my friends to go ahead without me. They'd protested, of course, but I assured them I'd catch up soon. I was waiting for Anne.

When she arrived, her face was bright, though slightly flushed from the excitement of the day. I greeted her with a small, calming smile, kneeling to meet her at eye level.

"Thank you for coming," I said softly, holding Amanda close one last time before gently passing her to Anne.

I slipped 100 var into her hand. "This is too much," she said.

 "It's worth it to me. You're helping more than you know."

She hesitated, then nodded. Amanda, now in her arms, giggled and reached for Anne's hair. Watching them, a flicker of unease tugged at my chest, but I pushed it aside. I needed this time—for myself, for the festival.

I wandered towards the beach, drawn by the beat of drums and the golden glow of a bonfire. There, I spotted my friends at an open bar. The smell of grilled fish and sweet pastries mingled in the air.

They were laughing and clinking glasses.

I approached, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. For a moment, I allowed myself to breathe.

I sat down with my friends. Maya was the first to notice me.

"You made it," she smiled.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly.

They all turned to me, surprised.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier," I continued. "I know you're just trying to help but …"

Maya reached over and put a hand on mine. "We get it," she said gently. "You're doing what any good mother would do."

Lily nodded. "You don't have to carry it all alone. We'll help the best we can"

"Yeah," Ava added with a grin. "Anne seems like a smart kid ."

 "Thank you," I said softly, my lips curving into a small smile.

The night carried on, the laughter around me blending with the music as we danced.

Above, the moon shone brightly.

Fireworks began to light up the sky, their colors painting the night in bursts of red, blue, and gold. The sound startled me at first, but then I smiled, the memory of another Festival of Tides washing over me.

It had been years ago, here in Barta. I had just arrived on the island when the fireworks began, and that's when I met him—my husband. He'd laughed at how I flinched at the loud booms and offered me a drink from one of the festival stalls. I remembered the way his smile lit up his face, brighter than any firework that night.

I looked up at the stars, letting the memories linger. The sky seemed endless, scattered with lights that felt as familiar as the faces around me.

Maybe we are both looking up at the stars.