Sage could tell Alex was still feeling a little uneasy after their encounter with Rohan, although they were doing their best to hide it. They had followed Sage closer to the bonfire, and showed interest when Sage explained the tradition of casting wishes into the fire. They made jokes about what they should wish for and what Sage might wish for, but she could tell Alex was trying harder than before to force a light-hearted atmosphere. Sage in turn did her best to push the guilt out of her mind and follow Alex’s lead, attempting a couple jokes of her own. She could ruminate later.
This year, Sage wasn’t sure what to wish for. Usually she wished for something simple - her family’s health, a quiet winter, for a bookseller to come to town with fresh inventory. She glanced over and saw Alex write “A safe journey to the capital!” on their slip of paper. She knew others often wished for money or love, but none of that felt like what she wanted. Sage quickly scribbled just one word down before she could overthink it: “more”.
She showed Alex how to wrap the strip of paper around one of the small smooth river stones that had been gathered into a pile in preparation for this ritual, and subtly guided them through the group dedication.
Everyone in attendance, even the children, all gathered around the bonfire and squeezed their stones with both hands in front of their chests, heads bowed in silence. The length of the silence varied and was never discussed, but somehow everyone would lift their heads at the same time, slowly raise their stones up towards the sky and shout in unison, “Aylsfire!”. Sage laughed at Alex’s confused face as the crowd shifted to accommodate everyone moving up to the fire to toss in their stone and attached wish.
“What was that word everyone shouted?” Alex asked Sage as they settled back in together on a quiet bench, far enough away from the bonfire that they could both feel the chill in the air.
Sage suppressed a laugh again. “Aylsfire. I don’t really know what it means, I think it might just be a nonsense word.” She added when she could see how confused Alex still looked.
“So this is what Sven meant when he said I might think the village was a little weird.” Alex smiled and shook their head, watching the crowd dancing around the bonfire.
“Do you think it’s weird?” Sage followed their gaze to the dancers. Every so often an especially drunk partygoer would get dizzy enough they would go spinning off and fall in the grass as the crowd circled the bonfire. She had asked as a child what the word meant and what the bonfire was for, but she had always simply been told it was a local tradition and all in good fun. It had become clear to her eventually that no one currently living in the village knew where the tradition came from, and with no written history of the town she had no way of researching it. Although now, staring into the flames of the bonfire, she wondered if it wasn’t something the village had once done to honor Ayala, whose eyes were just the same bright, piercing, golden yellow as the center of the flame.
“I mean, yeah, a bit. You could’ve warned me everyone was going to shout all at once!” They nudged Sage with their elbow and grinned. “It was fun too, though. We have a fall festival at the Crossing, but we don’t do anything where we get to make wishes. I liked that.” Their smile was full and relaxed. Sage couldn’t help but smile back.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I’ve always liked making wishes. That’s part of why I like this festival more than the one we have in spring. We don’t do anything like this at that one, although there are more games.”
“I could see that. You know, you seem like you live in your head a lot. I bet you’ve made some interesting wishes over the years.”
Sage shrugged and looked at the sky. “I do live in my head a lot, but my wishes are pretty boring usually.”
“Do they ever come true?” Alex looked more serious. Sage tried to think back on all the wishes she’s cast into the bonfire.
She frowned a little. “You know, I don’t think they have.” But maybe that’s because I’ve never actually completed the ritual. The thought drifted into her mind with a light breeze tickling her cheek. She failed to stifle a yawn.
Alex turned to look back at the bonfire and also failed to stifle a yawn. “Oh no, now you’ve done it! We’ll just be yawning back and forth the rest of the night.” They laughed as they covered their mouth and stretched into another yawn.
Sage laughed. “Well, I guess that means it’s time for us to head back. I’ve personally never fallen asleep at the festival and I don’t mean to start now.” She tilted her head towards some of the drunken partygoers, now asleep in the grass.
Alex grinned. “I don’t know, it might be good practice for the long journey up to the capital. If you decide to come with me, we would have a lot of nights sleeping out under the stars.” They stretched one final time on the bench, letting the suggestion linger. Sage was still thinking about how to respond when Alex suddenly stood and bowed dramatically. “I suppose this is the part where I gallantly escort you home.” They smiled and offered Sage their arm. Sage smiled broadly and played along by giving a small curtsey before linking her arm in theirs.
The walk back to Sage’s family home was silent but comfortable. Despite the night chill setting in, Sage felt warm arm in arm with Alex. She felt content, and she noticed the quietness settling into her own mind. She decided then that she would like to travel with Alex to the capital, although she wasn’t sure how she would tell her family, or Alex for that matter. They reached her home before she could decide how to bring it up, but luckily Alex proposed they meet up again tomorrow. Sage was grateful for the extra time to overthink how to discuss more seriously joining them on their travels, and agreed that they would meet up at the market square tomorrow afternoon. Their awkward but warm goodbye embrace was cut short by the sound of laughter from inside the house a little too close to the door.
Sage completely ignored all the questions her siblings asked her and went straight up to bed, trying to settle the nervous but excited feeling in her stomach until she finally fell asleep.
Disjointed images flickered past her eyes. Gathering river stones under a full moon. Placing the stones at the bottom of large goblets, filling them with dark liquid. Standing in a circle of hooded figures around a bonfire, raising the goblets to the sky before drinking the thick, bitter liquid until the stone slips forward to touch her lips. Tossing the stones into the flames, the sound of chanting in a language Sage couldn’t understand. Her hand reaching into the still warm ashes and withdrawing the now blackened, warm stones; smearing the ash onto her hair, her bare skin. A long line of ash-covered people walking ahead and behind her, silently carrying the stones through the forest. Mud and leaves sticking to her feet and legs. A stone altar in a glade, enormous unblinking yellow eyes staring down at her from the pitch black of the wood. More viscous, bitter dark liquid sticking in her throat, pouring over her hair, spilling down her chest until she’s drowning in it.
