Starfall's Wish - Chapter 2 - First Draft (Patreon)

The icy wind blew through the boreal forest, carrying a flurry of snowflakes as Bakurō Gendo and his family stood outside their great hall. The anticipation in the air was palpable, for they were awaiting the arrival of Lord Mabyaku, a charismatic High Elf Lord who would play a key role in their future.

"Father, do you think he will accept your proposal?" Yuka asked, her green eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight that illuminated the entrance to the hall.

Gendo's gaze remained fixed on the path leading to their home. "I have high hopes, Yuka. We must secure this alliance," he said, his voice heavy with determination.

A sudden gust of wind announced the arrival of Mabyaku. Riding a magnificent white reindeer, his multihued long hair flowed like a waterfall of colors – bright red, purple, and deep indigo – blending seamlessly into one another. His tall, muscular figure and ageless pale-white face exuded an aura of regality, leaving no doubt that he was a being of great power and importance.

"Welcome, Lord Mabyaku," Gendo said, bowing deeply before the Elf Lord. "We are honored by your presence."

"Chief Gendo, the honor is mine," Mabyaku replied in a formal tone, dismounting gracefully. His stoic expression softened ever so slightly at Yuka's curious stare.

"May I present my daughter, Yuka, and my son, Rōshi," Gendo said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

"Esteemed Chief Gendo, Lady Yuka, and young master Rōshi," Mabyaku began, reaching into his saddlebag and producing two beautifully wrapped gifts. "I bring offerings as a symbol of goodwill between our peoples." He handed the first gift, a finely crafted Elven dagger, to Rōshi, and the second, an exquisitely woven shawl bearing the intricate patterns of Elven craftsmanship, to Yuka.

"Thank you," Yuka said, her voice soft as she took the shawl with a respectful bow.

Rōshi hesitated, his face contorted with resentment. His hands trembled slightly as he accepted the dagger. "We don't need your gifts," he muttered under his breath.

Yuka's heart raced at her brother's words, fearing they might offend Mabyaku. She glanced up at the Elf Lord, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Rōshi!" Gendo scolded, his eyes narrowing in disapproval.

Rōshi clenched his jaw, staring defiantly at Mabyaku. "These gifts...they're just another way for the Elves to assert their influence over our clan, aren't they?" he spat, his voice trembling with anger. The dagger felt heavy in his hands, as if it carried the weight of their dwindling independence.

Mabyaku's gaze locked onto Rōshi, his stoic expression giving away little of his thoughts. "I assure you, young Rōshi, my intentions are pure. I seek only to foster understanding and cooperation between our peoples."

"Then why..." Rōshi began, but was cut off by Gendo's stern voice.

"Enough, Rōshi! Your disrespect will not be tolerated. Apologize to Lord Mabyaku immediately."

Rōshi looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. His breath was heavy and labored, as if he was trying to contain the rage that threatened to erupt within him. There was no way that he would apologize, doing so would be an admission of defeat. Refusing to give in, Rōshi finally turned away from Mabyaku and stormed off tossing the dagger to the ground. Yuka followed him with her eyes, a wave of sadness washing over her at the thought of Rōshi's stubbornness costing them an important ally.

Gendo bowed deeply, his face flushed with embarrassment. "My sincerest apologies, Lord Mabyaku," he said, his voice strained. "Rōshi's behavior was uncalled for. Please, come inside where we can discuss the matter of my proposal to your liege, Lord Yukyo."

"Very well," Mabyaku replied, his voice betraying no hint of emotion as he gracefully followed Gendo into the great hall.

Yuka busied herself with the final preparations for the feast, her hands moving deftly as she folded napkins and arranged plates alongside servants. The rich scents of roasted reindeer and garlic wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of tubers being prepared in the kitchens.

As Yuka adjusted a centerpiece made of pine branches and bright red berries, she caught sight of Mabyaku out of the corner of her eye. He moved silently through the great hall, his multihued hair catching the flickering candlelight as he admired the decorations. His stoic expression seemed to soften as he took in the intricate tapestries depicting scenes from Fēritai folklore, tracing the patterns with a delicate touch.

"Lord Mabyaku," Yuka called out hesitantly, approaching him with a nervous smile. "I hope you find our traditions interesting."

"Indeed, Lady Yuka," he replied, his eyes lingering on a particularly detailed weaving of a mythical forest spirit. "Your people have a rich and vibrant culture. It is always an honor to learn more about it."

"Thank you," Yuka said, a warmth spreading through her chest at his genuine interest. She glanced down at her feet, then back up at Mabyaku. "I wanted to apologize for my brother's behavior earlier. He...he can be rather stubborn when it comes to change."

"Ah, I understand," Mabyaku said, his expression softening further as he regarded Yuka. "Change can be difficult, especially when it impacts one's sense of identity and belonging. Please, do not apologize for him. I have been in similar situations myself."

"Really?" Yuka asked, her curiosity piqued by this rare glimpse into Mabyaku's vulnerability.

"Indeed," he admitted, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "There was a time when I, too, struggled with the weight of my decisions and the future they would bring. It was not an easy path to walk, but eventually, I found my way."

Yuka looked up at Mabyaku, seeing him in a new light. Here was a man who had faced adversity and emerged stronger for it – perhaps there was hope for her people after all. As they stood together in the candlelit hall, surrounded by the symbols of their unique and storied past, Yuka couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with the enigmatic Elf Lord. And, for the first time since the arrival of their unexpected guest, she dared to believe that change could come without sacrificing the essence of who they were.

Breaking the silence, Mabyaku gestured to the tapestries that lined the hall, inviting Yuka to take a closer look. Together, they explored the vibrant images of Fēritai stories, exchanging tales of warriors and shamans, animals and spirits. Despite their differences in origin and station, Yuka soon found herself feeling at ease in Mabyaku's presence as they discussed the intricacies of each weave and embroidery. It was almost as if he had been waiting for this moment all along – an opportunity to explore her heritage as though it were his own.

As the two of them continued to explore the tapestries, exchanging stories and legends about the images they depicted, Yuka couldn't help but feel a sense of hope in her heart. Maybe there was a way for her people to embrace change and remain true to themselves – perhaps Mabyaku could be an ally in finding that path. She smiled softly up at him as she thought this through, her appreciation growing with each passing moment. Whatever happened moving forward, she would always remember this night - a time when two cultures collided yet still found common ground among them.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall and Yuka turned to see Gendo entering. He bowed in respect to Mabyaku before turning his gaze to Yuka.

"It is time for you to get ready for the feast, my dear," he said. "We will need you presentable and looking your best."

Yuka nodded, bowing one last time to Mabyaku before turning towards her chamber. A servant was already there, waiting to braid and pin her hair up in a traditional style, paint her face white with makeup, and adorn her lips with a deep red hue. She then put on her best fur-lined silken robe – a symbol of wealth and honor – and made her way towards the great hall. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air as she stepped into the feasting hall; she was surrounded by laughter and good cheer as she took her place at the table amongst members of her family.

The great hall, adorned with tapestries and banners of the Fēritai tribe, took on a warm glow as candles flickered atop long wooden tables. The feast commenced, signaling the beginning of an evening filled with laughter and music. Yuka watched as servants carried in platters of boreal forest cuisine – steaming fish caught fresh from icy rivers, tender reindeer meat seasoned with wild herbs, and an array of colorful tubers and garlic-infused dishes.

"Ah, such delightful cuisine," Mabyaku said, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. "It is indeed a pleasure to partake in your people's culinary traditions."

"Thank you, Lord Mabyaku," Yuka replied, her heart swelling with pride at his compliment.

A troop of Fēritai musicians, clad in vibrant attire, took their positions near the head table. Their fingers danced upon traditional High Elven instruments, filling the air with melodious notes that seemed to soar and intertwine like the branches of ancient trees.

"Would you honor us with a song of your people?" Mabyaku asked the musicians, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

The musicians exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent, their instruments still. Yuka sensed their reluctance and felt a sudden surge of courage within her. She rose from her seat and cleared her throat.

"Allow me to sing for you, then," she offered, her green eyes meeting Mabyaku's.

As Yuka began the lullaby her mother used to sing, her soft voice imbued the room with a sense of serenity. The haunting melody tugged at the heartstrings of all who listened, transporting them to a time when life was simpler, unburdened by the complexities of politics and change.

Thirliti dyili

Khazgili iky

Belgeley khele

Thutury, bere

Iyiki, zelmi zuy

Hilgenl zí zivi

Thíley zidegez

Hiriginli kiyetez

Rōshi, however, appeared unsettled by the song. His jaw clenched tightly, he left the hall without a word, disappearing into the night. Yuka's heart ached for her brother, but she continued to sing, determined to honor their people and their heritage.

Ildenç yurği uyi

Thimeng thizken yuy

Khekten kherith yelin

Hirgiden bitin yen

Gezleren yun

Uçeq yeldezlir

Duyguliren hif

Eçt umud

"Thank you, Yuka," Mabyaku said, his voice gentle as he applauded her performance. "That was truly beautiful."

"Indeed," Gendo agreed, rising to address the assembly. "And now, my friends, I have important news to share. Lord Yukyo has agreed to waive our annual tribute in recognition of our strengthened alliance."

The crowd erupted in cheers, many slapping their hands upon the tables or clapping their hands above their heads.

"Lord Yukyo and his people have provided us with resources, wisdom, and protection," Gendo continued. "They have taught us how to farm and to build houses of stone, and are teaching us to read and to write so that our songs will not be forgotten. We owe much of our success to the High Elves."

Gendo turned toward Mabyaku and bowed low before him. "Thank you Lord Mabyaku, for your kindness and friendship," he said solemnly. He then turned back toward the gathered crowd, his voice ringing loud in the silent hall:

"My friends! Our people have been through much hardship -- but now we stand strong! Our bonds are stronger than ever before! Thank you all for gathering here tonight; let us celebrate this special occasion!"

Yuka's heart filled with a surge of pride and joy as the room erupted in cheers. She beamed with pleasure, realizing that their alliance with the High Elves was the right decision for her people, and had been worth all the effort to secure it.

Then Gendo waves the crowd to silence, "Furthermore, he has accepted my proposal for the betrothal of my daughter, Yuka, to Lord Mabyaku."

The applause and cheers returned to the room, a cacophony of jubilation, but Yuka's heart seemed to stop in her chest. The sudden announcement left her feeling betrayed, realizing that she had become a pawn in her father's game to forge alliances. She fought the urge to flee, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of it all.

"Father," she whispered, trying to keep her composure. "I had no idea..."

"Yuka, this is for the good of our people," Gendo replied, his eyes sympathetic yet resolute. "This alliance will ensure our safety and prosperity for generations to come."

As Yuka looked around the hall, she saw the faces of her tribe – people she loved and cared for deeply. Her mind wrestled with the tension between independence and alliance, weighing the cost of each path. Could she sacrifice her own desires for the sake of her people? What would it mean to be bound to Mabyaku, a man who seemed so different from herself?

"Excuse me," Yuka muttered, her voice barely audible above the din of celebration. She pushed back from the table, the weight of her father's words still heavy on her chest. Her hands shook as she grasped the edge of her chair, knuckles white from the force.

"Yuka?" Mabyaku called out to her, concern etched on his face.

"I... I need some air." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to think. Yuka stood up abruptly, ignoring the curious glances of the guests around her. Ignoring Mabyaku's outstretched hand, she fled the hall, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

As she stepped outside, the piercing cold of the snowy night acted like a slap to her cheeks. Snowflakes danced through the air, settling in her reddish-auburn hair and melting on contact with her flushed skin. The moon cast eerie shadows across the snow, its light reflecting off the ice-encrusted branches of ancient trees surrounding the hall.