Behind the Port of Dathow Han, a huge space had been cleared of any unnecessary clutter. What remained was a field occasionally dotted with trees that had turned the many shades of Autumn seemingly overnight. It was a well-known fact that the seasons changed quickly and clearly in the East. The people's dedication to the Goddess of Life celebrated this.

As the sky began to turn dark, the people began to fill the space, dressed in a variety of reds, oranges, yellows and browns. A myriad of great Autumn colours. Small bonfires were lit around the place, and despite the mixture of nobles and commoners in the clearing, there was no set place for any of them. They mixed with one another seamlessly.

Standing between her brother and the young Eloise Ridgelam, Saorise looked a vision in her flowing red gown. Despite its form fitting nature, it flowed off and away from her like a waterfall, with various strips of fabric fluttering off her arms every time she turned or walked. Lyle had on red as well to match his sister, though with brown breeches and boots. Eloise had on a bright yellow number that complimented her dark hair and eyes.

"Is he not coming?" asked Eloise.

Saorise smiled, raising her goblet to her lips to take an amused sip, "He will come. He won't miss the chance to see his future brides".

Eloise raised an eyebrow, "It's awfully rude of him to be so late".

"He is a King," said Saorise, "I believe it is fashionable for royalty to be late".

Eloise rolled her eyes, "What a strange thing to make fashionable".

"You may have to grow used to it seeing as you wish to marry him," Lyle quipped.

Eloise looked at Lyle out of the corner of her eyes. In truth, if she chose not to go through with this, Lyle was one of the better prospects for her marriage. Though she would not marry him until he grew up. He was still far too childish and impulsive for her tastes. Perhaps they both were considering the decision she was making.

"I suppose I will," Eloise agreed, "Though it will certainly take a while before I see it as anything other than ill-mannered".

Saorise raised her head as she saw General Lowan approaching. He nodded to her as he stopped before her then spoke.

"No sign from the watch, my Lady," General Lowan spoke.

Saorise sighed, placing her goblet on a table to the side, "Well, if he wishes to keep to his customs, then I suppose it should only be fitting we keep to ours. Let us begin".

General Lowan nodded and turned to walk to the side as Saorise looked over to Eloise, then her brother. After she received nods from both, Saorise stepped forward and raised her hands to call for silence. It was given to her almost instantly. All eyes turned to her, and in the distance, a drum beat began, low and slow.

Saorise did not speak with words. Instead she let the drum beat guide her body as all Easterners were taught.

The Drum is the calling of unity. It brings us together in dark times and light.

As Saorise danced, others began to join her from all walks of life. Male and Female, young and old, noble and commoner. All allowed themselves to feel the drum beat in their hearts and souls and move with it as one.

The drum beat began to pick up, and the sound of a flute began to weave into it like water down a river. Flowing and shifting with the beat. Great sashes of autumn colours flew through the air at the command of their bearers, fluttering and flowing smoothly no matter the jolting movement that changed their direction.

The Flute is a mirror of change. It shows us the paths laid out and helps us to choose as life intends.

After some time, another group of instruments joined the ensemble, this time as numerous as the autumn colours. The dancers began to move individually rather than together, yet still they seemed to be a group.

All those given life have a path that life intends. They may break apart, they may work against each other, but all will eventually be reunited again when life ends.

The music shifted, and with it the dancers. Seamlessly moving from one tune to another.

Change is a part of life. One must readily challenge it and accept it in order to continue moving forward.

It was the third Law of Life. The Third teaching of the great Goddess herself. Change is inevitable, and integral to the passage of time.

Saorise and all of the Easterners lost themselves in the music, in the spirit of one of their Four sacred festivals. Change was inevitable. They must accept this new reality that was dawning on them, but they would not let it be at the expense of who they were as a people. Here, united, they were strong and prideful. They were everything their people had ever wished to be, had everything they ever wished to have. They were untouchable here. Nothing could corrupt it.

Saorise's eyes flicked open as she grinned at the realisation, her eyes drawn to the darkened sky above where the stars watched over them. She turned and turned, revelling in the spirit of her people. The wariness of the past two weeks seemed to fade. The burdens on her shoulders seemed to lessen, and in that moment, she was nothing but a young woman celebrating the pride and beliefs of her people.

Then her eyes turned down and she instantly stopped at the same time the music seemed to stumble and stop. The swaying and swishing of fabric stopped, the rhythm and melody of the music faded into the sky and the only sound left was the flickering of bonfire flames as all eyes turned to the new arrivals.

They were still as they looked back. Dark figures in an ocean of colour. Their expressions at first were that was surprise and wonder, but as the silence and stillness continued, and they realised just how many eyes were on them, their expressions turned awkward, and then hostile.

How dare they not heed her warning. To wear such a colour on such a day...

Saorise's gaze hardened, and she went to take a step forward when a hand caught hers. She spun, and turned to see Eloise. Her gaze too was hard and angry as she watched the newcomers, but after a moment she turned to Saorise with a pleading gaze.

"Do not give the rest of us a reason to wear such a colour at this time as well".

The younger woman's words cut through Saorise's anger, and she paused in thought for a moment before she nodded in acknowledgement.

Then Saorise took a deep breath and marched right over to the invading party. As soon as she was within a few metres of the foreign King, swords were unsheathed and pointed in her direction. Of course they would disrespect that rule as well. But they barely stopped Saorise. She moved swiftly, using the loose fabric of her dress to whip the hands and arms of those who held the weapons. Hisses of surprise and pain surrounded her before the weapons were dropped to the ground and Saorise moved within a few inches of Peter, looking up dangerously into his face. His eyes were filled with surprise, clearly not expecting the rage in her eyes.

"I warned you not to wear that colour or bring weapons here," Saorise said, "By ignoring that warning, you have worn the colour of death to a celebration of life".

Peter's gaze hardened, "Black is the colour of-"

"You are not in Wendolan, here, at this Festival, you are as much a King as I am a man," Saorise spoke lowly, "Now, you either come with me to get changed, or you turn around and leave".

Peter opened his mouth to talk back, but his attendant grabbed his arm, nodding his head to the crowd that was currently glaring at them with no less hostility than an army ready to start a war. Peter might have even argued that he had never seen such hostility even in the eyes of his compatriots who worshiped the God of War. After a moment, Peter wisely took a step back from Saorise.

"Lead the way".