Altair’s heat is unforgiving in July. The nearby ocean leaves a sticky residue of salt and water on Althea’s skin as she turned the final lock to the door of her shop. On most days she would avoid the evening’s teetering sunlight and wander home for the evening, but today the festivities are beginning in Altair. Amyths has begun.
She meandered the foreign stalls lined along the city’s center where strung lights twinkle on thin strips of wire, making the cityscape sparkle as if the stars are sitting among the people. Roasted, grilled, and fried foods from foreign cities are being cooked, and merchants are calling out to her to tell their stories, hear their music, and sell their brightly colored clothing.
She smiled to herself, excitement rearing from a place of childish desire. People turn their heads to watch her, giving her gracious waves. She politely tips her head in response to their idle chatter, giving generic answers to their greetings. This was customary for her. She had made a name for herself as the cities healer, by selling remedies made from herbs to heal a variety of diagnoses. She bandaged, medicated, and practiced first aid on the people returning from long and labored trips across sea. 829Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj7rIhMTAEG
Althea had spent her young life on farm land with her family in Altair. Being an adventurous child who walked back into her home with one too many injuries, she learned the odds and ends of what a simple plant could do to heal. This began a long journey; bouncing from one healer to the next to learn from the best, before she finally took the step in opening her quaint little shop in the heart of her city.
An old woman’s wrinkled hand engulfing her own, startled Althea from her walk across the square. “Come child, bring the Princess and her cow-herd together at last, won’t you?” She could feel the old woman slipping a thickly folded piece of paper into her palm, insisting rather than asking for her to beseech the Gods. Althea was familiar with the legend of the deity princess and her lover separated by divinity, and were only able to meet once a year on Amyths. People of Altair were well aware that the meeting could only be achieved if mother nature gave them a clear path to one another.
Just for a moment, Althea glanced skyward. Scattered clouds loomed threateningly in the distance, but she took the folded prayer sheet tightly within her grasp, hopeful that the ominous clouds could be moved through forced prayer. “Thank you, I’ll do just that.” The old woman grinned, her cheekbones and sunken eyes creating creases around their edges. As soon as the woman had arrived, she scuttled off in her black robes, enticing the foreign visitors of her demands.
In Altair's center, among the flagstone floors, various trees were rooted with patches of grass; an oasis in the hustle and bustle of the square. The tree granted the home for prayers had pale pink petals flowering from its branches. Loose petals dusted the floor like snow, and traveled wayward with the wind.
In front of Althea a familiar, tanned figure reached upwards to tie the prayer sheet on a naked, elongated limb. Althea bit back a smile as she found her place next to the woman, and tied her own prayer sheet along a branch. She lowered herself to her knees next to Valda, pressing her lips together to contain the excitement of seeing her friend returning from a long journey back from the sea. From the corner of her eye she could see Valda with her black, wavy bobbed hair grinning as she brought her head down towards the floor.
Althea’s prayer was short, as she had never been one to take a spot at the foot of her bed. She asked for what she was told to ask for: a festival without rain. She lingered nearby waiting for Valda to finish up her talk with the Gods glancing back every now and again, impatiently.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Valda tugged on a long, mahogany curl on Althea’s head. It retracted back to its original form along the length of her back. It had been too long since she had last seen Althea. Helping her own father to deliver goods to nearby prefectures was no easy task, and often would take Valda away from friends and family for months, and rarely, a year at a time. It wasn’t what she had wanted to do for her life, but Valda had a knack for what she did. Not many were willing to let her slip away with the talent that she had for sailing.
Althea giggled and hugged her seafaring friend who had been gone for well over four months now. “How were your travels? Any sea monsters encountered?”
“If I had, that would be the least of my nightmares,” Valda rolled her eyes. “Have you ever seen a man piss and shove food in his mouth at the same time?”
Althea laughed, keeping in step with her. “Can’t say that I have, or that I would want to.”
“So, I just got back to the city, and I heard rumors of fireworks. Up for a viewing at the memorial?”
“You do realize you ask me this every year, right?” Althea’s sugar brown eyes retreated towards the floor where her chalky boots kicked up a cloud of dust. An unnerving shiver ran up Althea's spine at the sight of the silhouette of the memorial in the distance. 829Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrbkDfP0q1C
Gingerly, Valda took one arm and draped it around Althea's shoulders, leaning in closely as they walked. Althea’s petite frame contradicted Valda's lanky one. “And every year I hope and pray that Thea is one year closer to saying yes!” Valda’s fingers traced the hidden scar on the base of Althea’s neck.
Part of being an overly active child when Althea was younger, left her with a haunting memory of a fall from a tree. The memories of that day and previous were spotty; another affliction gifted from the fall. Her parents would often tell her that before it occurred, Althea was an unruly child that played the part of a savior to help a dying city, but after it was like she had become an entirely new kid. She was unlike herself the moment she fell, and had never found that desire for adventure again. 829Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiKB1BxWqES
Heights had become a place of aversion for Althea, but the large mass that overhung the ledge of the mountainside with its round skeletal shape was more intimidating than any distance she could imagine. The distinct characteristics of the memorial were remnants of what used to be a frequented ride that was enjoyed by the masses. Debilitated carriages hung dangerously over the edge of the cliff while others were crushed against the weight of the metal.829Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYERIQCutTa
Empty grass fields extended for miles until the land dropped off into darkened waters and whitecaps crashing against a very steep rock face. Althea could almost hear the distant screams of adrenaline seekers. The impetuous shapes running on a thin metal beam launched themselves off the edge, into the waters below. She couldn’t see how they would survive the fall, but somehow the same people would often appear in her shop to be treated for major bruising and sprained shoulders.
She shook her head, becoming awfully aware of just how large the memorial was becoming in front of her.
“C’mon Thea,” Valda begged, hugging her closer to her side. “I just got back from my trip, and while we were in Hadar we met this guy that has some pretty crazy stories to tell. I know you’re into that kind of stuff.”
She huffed by Valda’s side, her reluctance showing in her grimacing face. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s more that I don’t think I can.” Althea's hands trembled at her side. It had been years since Althea had made any attempt at climbing again, and her stomach rolled with nervousness.
Valda left her side, and sprung up towards the memorial, taking a seat on the edge. Her boots kicked against the rusted bars, a vibration resounding through its cross pieces with a groan.
“Ya know Thea, as long as I have known you there was a time when this could have been nothing but another tree to climb,” she leaned back, her arms supporting herself between the hollow spaces of the memorial. “You got into healing ‘cause of your little fall. Just because you got into a tussle with death, doesn't mean he's killed you yet.”
Althea’s eyes were round in surprise, “Your motivational speeches have improved. I’m thoroughly impressed,” she shifted from one foot to another, “I could say that if you had been born a few centuries earlier you could have stopped the war.”
Valda pursed her lips. “I was being serious, but you’re right,” she smiled smugly, “if there were to be an outbreak of another dreaded war, I’m sure I could use my words to my advantage.”
Althea chuckled. “Then I’ll be the first to join you, and I will climb this awful thing.” Valda lifted a single foot and roughly planted her heel against an angled bar. It whined against her boot, and gave way against the weight.
Valda laughed heartily at Althea’s paling face. In all her years of watching newcomers puke to the aggressive waves Poseidon stirred up at sea, Valda had never seen someone’s face drain of blood as quickly as Althea’s had.
“Well…” Valda smirked, “start climbing.”
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