The Outsky

    A dull, warm breeze graced the air around Ryer's Hollow as the midday sun satiated its hunger for height. From where it now shined, a place barely comparable to that of warmer climates, it began to take its steady fall to dusk and twilight lands. Though the breeze had a warmth, the frigid, frostbitten air of the tundra could not be masked; Ria still found the urge to shiver even under her jacket. Her chestnut hair waved and flowed as the winds embraced it, whipping and undulating like the gentle waves of the ocean. The frozen plains, more silent than the atmosphere of space, was an eerie place to walk alone. Ria had walked far from the village of Aq'kre, hefting a rucksack of woven linen from the forest village to the south. A colourful ribbon, dyed a deep orange with alder, hung from between the seal, rippling in freedom from its peers. A strong gust of wind covered Ria's face with orange, where the ribbon had been blown around her face, and she was forced to double check her containment efforts. One ribbon had already escaped and now flew with the birds among the azure empyrea.
     Ria, with boots that crunched gently in the snow-covered tundra that she now walked upon, climbed over a rise in altitude and was gifted with the sight of her destination. From afar it resembled a heat wave of colour, with ribbons and kites shining in orange, blues, reds, greens and yellows among the snowy horizon. The kites, distantly related to the common diamond-shaped form seen elsewhere, were made of a lattice frame consisting of juniper branches. Lengthy sections frayed cloth of erratic colours was strung, hung and tied between the structure, flowing in the wind like a tail of a phoenix. The calls of a skua, the white patches on its wings flashing, suddenly broke the air as it wheeled overhead on route to the open sea.
    The rainbow-esque wave of colour was no less enigmatic even when Ria was almost upon it, for the array of motion, prism-like hues and display could not have been guessed. This place, in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, was the site for the fabled Outsky Fair, a festival of great magnitude, at least for a place where civilization was sparse and without the ubiquitous technology of the towering cities where buildings threatened to erase the clouds.
    Ria was greeted by a familiar face as she made passage within the Outsky grounds. The face, with hair that was as grey as a dusty 1000-year old catacomb, belonged to a fellow villager, tanned from a pelagic kayak journey he took far south only recently. Yet here, with the fur jacket typical of the village, frozen eyebrows and thick gloves, he had the look of a typical Aq'krean--a person bound to the snowy tundra, a person who was often imprisoned within his village for life in a place where no planes or vehicles existed save the husky-led sleds. The faint tan and the omniscient smile he gave was all that hinted at his mysterious travels. "Nice work Ria. Let's get those Alkaiju set up right away." Within moments the ribbon-filled rucksack was lifted off Ria's back and carried across the court. A pile of bark and logs in the centre hinted to a great bonfire during the later night that heralded the twilight events of the Outsky. Under the moonlight lights set in the kites would glow and flicker in blessing to the stars of the cosmos for their presence each night. The fire, wispy and bouncing, was a mirror to the winds and energy of nature, a parallel to the latter's erratic, jumpy and unpredictable nature. The Outsky Fair, an event that occurred only once every two years, was indeed founded as a traditional honour to the cycle of nature itself as a form of tribal festival. Ria, along with her sister Elsi, took part in weaving the kites, or Alkaiju as they were named in old language, translating to "wind-rider", for the remaining exposed areas of ground where empty poles stood bare and barren.
   As darkness threatened to envelope that of the day, all that could be done was to wait for the sun to finally set. The torches and braziers, though small, intensified into a glowing fiery inferno against the ebon sky, their glowing aura free to roam without the sun's rival light. The female villagers, Ria included, blew a gentle swinging melody through a delicate instrument formed from a narwhal horn. The melody, something that swayed between the cold breeze of the night, dashed and flew all over. With help from the wind the sound carried far and was impossible to trace. The deep whistles of the instruments sent a calmness within those who could hear it as a form of external meditation. Ria's breathe coalesced through her notes into misty waves of fog that emanated from holes within its structures. No other music left a visual proof of its composition; the music of the Oversky fair was unique in this respect.
    When the melody filled the air like early morning birdsong the remaining villagers, circled around the bonfire which now blazed as high as the heavens with a deep orange glare. With small hand-sized pots they took turns tipping incense into the fire, which, as it combusted from its assault with pure heat, released a scent famed to calm the stress of the Mother, the figurative name for the forces behind the natural cycle. The failure to appease such a being was attributed to bad hunts and misfortune, and it was a practice that was often enjoyable regardless. The incense now clouded the air like millions of midges, and indeed as the embers and fire reflected it seemed to sparkle and shift like it was alive.
    The Alkaiju were left to fly for 3 days after with the belief that they would, as the cloth bounced, keep the incense aloft and prevent it from falling to the ground. The incense, if it did not reach the realm of the Oversky, the epithet of the Outsky, would not see the Mother's presence if it fell short, rendering its intention useless. The villagers camped out here for the entire duration before dismantling the Fair soon after, leaving the barren snowy wasteland lifeless until the next Fair. Ria, content with her part, walked home, this time with fellow villagers. As she gave a final gaze back to the now deserted tundra. A gentle snow began to fall, already covering the dirt that once served as the Outsky Fair's grounds like the sea covered footprints in the sandy beaches. In a matter of moments all traces of the flamboyant Fair had vanished and the grounds was once again reclaimed by the tundra for two more years to come.