Sometime during the night, a slow banging began at the door to his rooms. Cren woke with a start and almost fell from his hammock. Who could possibly want to see him this late at night? The boy almost rose to go and answer his door when a story his mother told him came to mind. She had warned him to never open a door at twilight. Even if it was the privy door. Often times ghosts or evil spirits were the only ones who came knocking at that time of the night. As if to prove his mother right, a slow wail started in accompaniment to the knocking.
“Elena, why do you ignore me so? Elena!” the strange voice wailed. Cren heard a rattling as the spirit knocked. Was it chains making that noise?
“There is no Elena here!” Cren shouted, voice quavering. The ghost was silent. Cren began to worry that it may have figured out a way to come inside when it suddenly began to beat against the door with a fierce vigor.
“You, sir! Snuck into the bed of my wife while I was wrongly imprisoned have you? Who are you? The judge who put the shackles upon me? The baker who wrongly accused me? Or maybe you are my former friend, Argain!” Said the spirit, chains rattling loudly. “It matters not, but rest assured that I will have my vengeance.”
And so the spirit left. Cren stayed up a few hours longer too terrified to sleep in case the ghost came back and acted upon his threat. It was morning by the time his eyes closed. For a blissful moment Cren fell into a deep sleep. But his rest was disturbed by a sudden weight bouncing up and down on his midsection. With a scream, Cren flailed his arms and connected with something solid. He opened his eyes to find June rubbing her cheek and frowning at him.
“Good gad, Cren. See if I ever wake you up again.”
“You can wake me up. Just don’t bounce all over me like that. Of course I’m going to hit you, moron.”
“I’m not a moron!” June huffed.
“That remains to be seen,” Cren sniffed as he reached for a handhold and climbed down to the bedroom floor. June simply jumped from the hammock and landed squarely on her feet. “So why are you waking me up again?”
“Father is taking us all to the festival in Nuir cagh maght today!” she said excitedly. Cren simply raised an eyebrow.
“New cage what?”
“Nuir cagh maght is a Wood Elf city. And the festival of joy is celebrated every year around this time for a week. Don’t you know anything?”
Cren sniffed and shrugged out of his long sleeping shirt and put on a pair of dark gray pants. Unlike his normal attire, these pants were tighter to the skin since they were meant to be worn while flying. He also pulled on a white shirt with voluminous sleeves and an over tunic as red as blood. He tied a dove gray silk sash around his waist and then carefully donned a pair of ankle cuffs and tough leather straps that covered on the middle of the soles of his feet. When he looked up June was frowning at him.
“What?” he asked.
“For a boy, you sure do like clothes.”
“What’s wrong with that? Clothes are important. Maybe you should try dressing more like a girl sometime.” He retorted. Instead of a rude response, June simply bit her lip and shuffled her feet.
Whatever she had meant to say, it died on her lips. Her usual smile was back. “Well maybe I will. Since you’re so good at it, why don’t you show me how?”
With that, the two ran from the room. June laughes wildly as Cren shouted obscenities, ones that he definitely shouldn’tve know in Eastlander.