HEARTHOLME Chapter 15: Day of Hearts

The Day of Hearts is the most celebrated holiday in Heartholme. It does not fall on a particular day of the solar year, but rather by listening to the heart itself as the magic denotes the shift in seasons. The village does not get harsh winters as a mild and temperate forest landscape, but the changing of leaves and shifting of weather is brought by the Dragon Heart itself in its ability to regulate temperate as if it was a snowglobe for summer. What makes the Day of Hearts so important beyond the shift in season varies depending on whom you speak to.
For the average townsfolk it is an opportunity for giving thanks and spreading good cheer. The frontier town lives in near utopia thanks to this wonderful artifact. It is paid for by everyone in the currency of good will given willingly. The town provides and the town reaps what it sows in a colorful ecosystem promoting happiness. Nothing is more colorful than a successful Day of Hearts in which the entire down sings, dances, and feasts the same way some celebrate war victories or declarations of independence from an oppressive regime.
This magical world and magical artifact with its magical feel good currency has the same law of any economic law might. If the amount given is not enough to sustain the demands of the Dragon Heart, then it claims more from the blessed dragonborn bloodline which was granted these draconic powers to be custodians of the people's well being. It is an apt punishment that ensures the powerful use their power to build a better society instead of abusing it. The cost is their own livelyhood. Some do worry about this potential dread output, but dread and worry kill those feel good vibes, so it was culturally accepted to dismiss them. It was one's civic duty to live a good life so they could give thanks to the Heart. It is the Targryn's duty to facilitate this and worry.
This brings us to the dragonborn that worry about every Day of Hearts. The very first Day of Hearts saw the loss of most of Targe's blessed in order to construct the object to protect the town from annihilation of the harsh wilderness in a frontier world. Since that day, the losses were few and far between. It was as rare as a coal miner challenging a career soldier to a duel to the death. That is to say, it almost never happens as the town has long afforded stability with the artifact.
If you were to tell that to Sigwald, Tywin, or William, however they would give you the sort of stare that would make you wonder why you could think "only potential death" is an acceptable outcome of the holiday. A one in twenty chance is still a natural one on a twenty sided die. It could happen. Every time you roll it, you roll knowing that it could happen regardless of how unlikely it is.
Iris pats William on the shoulder as she is escorted through the plaza by her sister, Halia. "Don't worry," she smiles in a sad, yet proud, way, "we have this Day in the bag." Likewise Kyrin gives Tywin a healthy slap on his back. Kyrin is in his elfish form and his gangly arms twack against the meaty Tywin like a sapling's branch against a tree trunk. Tywin just glares at the elf. "We got this," Kyrin grins broadly back.
Halia escorts the two young lovers as they approach the platform near the pool of water where the giant stone floats. The afternoon preparations were finishing up with Sigwald and Fabian coordinating the effort among helpful townsfolk. Tywin and William stand back in the crowd watching as celebrated guests.
"What do you think they are going to offer," William asks his older brother.
"Knowing Kyrin he is going to offer up his favorite chew toy. Iris some butterflies or something like that," Tywin dismisses.
"They look a lot more serious than that this season," William sidelong glances between Tywin and those by the Dragon Heart's platform.
Tywin takes a deep breath and exhales. His body is still recovering from the recent episode. It burns in a dull ache. "I don't know. They are both so vapid that its hard to tell what they really care about."
"Vapid? Big word, big bro," William grins.
"Shut it. I know big words," Tywin growls. William raises his hands up with a smile, "You are smarter and more empathetic than you want us to believe."
"Yeah," Tywin's growl subsides into the word, "I know what they are going to give up. Its just stupid."
"But think about it," William says as the two brothers look at their noble friends, "to give up the love you have for someone for the safety of others? For your friends? That, too, is a form of love. Its economical if you think about it." There is a pause as he acknowledges the look Tywin is giving him. The 'if I cant act stupid, you cant act cold' look. "It is still sad," William admits, "and sadness is an emotion we must bear so others do not. What a bunch of martyrs we all are," the thin dragonborn grins to put a spin of levity on the situation.
"Yeah," Tywin repeats his monosyllabic reply another time. "Its still stupid. Needing to do this like this? Why should we suffer? Why should our children suffer? Again and again in a cycle of loss." Tywin looks up at the sky. "Maybe Iolanthe found a place where we don't do this anymore. If we find her," he stops thinking about it as a townsfolk stares at the two sons of Sigwald. It is bringing the mood down. It is the wrong time and wrong place for that.
"Later," William notes to Tywin, "we can talk about it later. Right after some new experiments, eh? We both have goals. Yours is her. Mine is you."
There is a clearing of the throat as Sigwald addresses the crowd. The speech is strong and direct. It speaks to how he is a foundation that keeps this town safe and stable. It speaks how the stone itself is part of that foundation. A foundation is nothing but a rock in the ground without things to build upon it. So he calls upon any who are willing to come and express their thanks to be given.
At first the people that come forward are townsfolk that give small thanks. One couple gives thanks in the form of the memories of gardening this year. A small light shines and glimmers before the Dragon's Heart takes it into its own. After a deep breath there is a cool stone where those emotions once settled. The memory is still there, but the feelings associated it are distant and neutral. To that couple it is as if they were reading about their garden in a book. The spectrum of feelings associated with the facts are reduced to a monotone shadow of its former self. This is what it means to give to the Dragon's Heart and dozens of people come forward to give little joys they have had across the season. They are voiced out loud for all to hear and celebrate. It is regarded as a thing of pride and honor.
None of the gifts could compare to the last. The Heart itself had taken many minor gifts. The major gift comes in the form of two youngsters standing at the base of the heart.
"Our final gift comes from Kyrin and Iris," Sigwald announces as the crowd is silent. The final gift is always the biggest one. It always draws the most attention. "From my heart to yours, we all thank you for the offering. May it keep us happy and safe for seasons to come." There is a moment of silent prayer that goes across the plaza. When the silence breaks, Sigwald looks to Kyrin. The young man is nervous, not used to being looked at when he isn't a wolf. Not used to this grandeous level of profession. He is a simple, pure hearted kind of person. Leave this sort of stage work to his fictional character, Nasdamn. In one brilliant moment, he thinks to himself, "What would Nasdamn do?"
There is a bright smile on his face as he looks to Iris who shares the same fears. His hands reach out and cup her face, calming down her fears as he gives her the last kiss they will share as young lovers. "Iris, I offer my love as a gift to the heart. I want to share this feeling with everyone, so that even a fraction of our warmth would bring better days to everyone." He smiles as the words stop being about a roleplay character and come from his own heart with greater ease.
"I don't want to forget what this feeling is," Iris says with honesty, "I don't want to know what that life would be like." A deep breath is taken, "But I am not afraid. I offer my love as well as my courage to share so that we all can brave the unknown. Together."
"Show off," Kyrin laughs nervously.
"I'm keeping that," Iris smiles with tears in her eyes as the heart glows as bright as a lighthouse. The feelings fly away from the two and they are left holding one another. A certain numbness exists between them. They remember what should be felt, but nothing is evoked. Major gifts are shocking and the townsfolk cheer the two of them on to help fill the void. A loud electricity fills the air to celebrate a deep offering for the happiness of many.
"By Targe that was," Tywin exhales a deep breath as things get louder around the brothers, "uplifting and depressing at the same time. They will need our support on the days forward. Well, more yours than mine," Tywin says to William.
White wisps of light as soft as down gust towards the center stage. Tywin felt the stillness in the crowd of excitement. He knew something was not right by the look on his father's face. Shock hit Tywin and his emotions withdrew into his own bubble. It was a smaller world in this quiet bubble. It was his own world. In that world he died. In that world his body was pulled apart like fluff on a dandelion and then scattered by a gentle breeze. It would be a just ending for all the trouble he caused his family over the years. Slowly reaching to look at his own hands Tywin realized something vital about justice. It did not exist in the world they live in.
"Ty," William says as his voice fades. The sound grew distant as if it was at the other end of a tunnel. The silver scales of William's body drift off and away into luminescent motes floating towards the Dragon Heart. He tries to grab his brother's body, but the young man's touch becomes feather light. Tywin barely registers his sibling's touch as he turns his head to see a brother that once shined in brilliant silver has now turned as pale as a summer cloud. Their violet eyes locked onto each other to convey the emotions of shock and fear. Tywin shook his head in a gesture of denial as his eyes burned without his permission to do so. This is not right. He must be able to do something. Anything.
William's lips keep moving as his body rejects his attempts to reach for physical support. He paws desperately and frantically to hold onto his fate. Then there is a moment of clarity and acceptance. One final yell down the distant tunnel, "I will always..." he verbally lunges.
And like a final grain of sand drifting to the wind, William was gone forever.
In a crowd of cheering people, happy for the holiday and celebrating the offerings of two young lovers, Tywin was left without a trace of his brother in his hands. He stared at those hands. They were large and strong. They were built to fight and to protect. They were built to hold. He couldn't hold onto his little brother. He could not protect him. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs into the sky but his lungs would not obey. His mouth refused to participate in the expression. All of the emotions are held behind a sheet of ice pretending to be a glass window in a room he is prisoner in. His violet eyes shook as they filled with a prismatic array of emotions. Sigwald reached Tywin as his only surviving child raised a shaking face to reveal violet eyes harboring the blue of cold despair and the red of heated injustice. Together the purple raged harder than any winter storm.