Legend Valley

Camping and drum circle

On the eve of the last day of Inox, the festival of crimson twine, Kaidon laid restless, beneath his sturdy lean-to. Sleep had never come easy and on this cloudless night, deep in the vale of legends, with the Harvest Moon on full display, he once more laid awake. Moon light trickled through the knotted branches of the make shift roof and cast a silver mask on his eyes. He had become transfixed on the expansive night sky. A pitch black canvas, framed by tall spruce trees and spotted with specks of silvery stars, these vigilant eyes of the ancients cast a weary radiance. Brisk air swept through his shelter with a whistle, his sore muscles tensed. A sigh pushed through his lips as he rolled over and curled his legs up against his chest.

Heavy eyes strained to close, kept open by a dull ache in his legs and feet. Ely, the younger brother of John, a friend he had met upon his first trip to the Inox Festival, had insisted they hiked ‘at least a hundred miles' the day before. Trails that often led deep into the mountain weaved in and out of Legend Valley. An image of John, as he ran from a swarm of bats brought a faint chuckle to his throat. Having been to the cave earlier in the week Kaidon had teamed up with Ely and convinced John throwing the rock was a good idea. Working with Ely was difficult but the look on Johns face made it worth the effort.

It had been a week since hundreds of rustic camps similar to his had been built, packed tight amongst the tall tress of Legend Valley. The trek to the festival was jagged and over grown, it could only be made on foot, wagons and horses had to be left behind in Solix, the small village at the trailhead. The village had become a beacon of hope where regardless of the unspoken war, which has raged on in the shadows for over a decade everyone was equal. The Inox Festival had turned Solix into a cultural bazaar and for The Guild Keepers who reside there, an exhibition of power. No realm has dared challenge the rights of Solix since its inception soon after the Tar'Val Wars ended.

Kaidon stretched in attempt to abide the ache in his legs. John had said that Knowledge of Inox was a requirement for entrance into the Magi Guild, the first test of many "whatever that means." he thought and rolled his ankles in an attempt to appease his restless feet. "Emma would also talk about Inox but, would never go into detail about the other tests." His blanket ended up in a twisted pile at the foot of his bed roll. "The hunt is the last test, I know that much." he thought and kicked out his legs in an attempt to untangle the blanket. An urge to scream sat high in his throat, with a long drawn breath he fought to push it down. "Next year," he said with each breath.

Kaidon grabbed the edge of his blanket and whipped it out over his body. Tiny specks of dust flew into the air and floated lazily back to the floor. The slow descent of dust among the rays of moon light brought a sense of calm to him. "Next year," he repeated with a nod. He watched a single speck until it came to rest upon the taut hide drumhead of his Dejembe. A drumhead marked with bits of fur attached to a stained lenka wood body which was etched with scenes of his first hunt. A gift from his father, a drum he would soon play for the first time. Cast in the silver light of the nights full Moon, a hint of crimson shown along the drums edge.

A pulse of warmth passed through Kaidon, his eyes shot open with a heavy blink, unsure when they had closed. A yawn rushed out of his chest with a growl. The faint sound of heavy canvas, as it was shoved aside tickled his ears. Soft foot falls moved through the camp, with each stride the night air tensed.

The sharp snap of a branch cut through the taut silence. "Here Thom," Nyna, his mother called out. Her voice trailed off into a whisper, Kaidon strained to hear what was said. The crackle of embers stole away what remained of the night's silence and further obscured his parent's exchange.

"Kaidon, Emma" Thom, his father said. The night's camp fire had been stoked back to life and cast ghostly shadows upon the thick canvas which had been draped over a thick branches as a  wall. "Come on get out here you two," he said in a hurried voice. "It's time."  

In answer to Thom's call, the deep resonate sound of a Taiko, roared across the valley. With twin drumheads the Taiko was oft used to mark the finial day of Inox. The valley would soon be filled with drums, all would join the call to ‘Wake the Sun'.

"I'm coming," he said, more to himself then in answer to his father. He took steady breath and rubbed his palms together. The typically frigid air of Legend Valley had returned to placate the sticky heat of late summer. With his hands cupped over his mouth he exhaled, puffs of white vapor trailed through his fingers, "So cold" he whispered and pushed himself up and out from under his bedroll.

Thom had told him 'Wake the Sun' was a celebration of life and community. "Hmph," he grunted "More like a warning that we had better prepare for life after the festival," he thought and looked to where he had last heard his mother's voice.

Soon Nyna  will be crouched over a desk and shut in her room with her herbs. "If I see her at all in the next month it will be when she needs me to fetch supplies." he thought with a frown. Thom of course would yell and scream about the harvest and with the Hunt starting tonight Emma will not be there to help. "Perhaps, I should just stay here in my little room under the stars." he thought with a grin.

Kaidon curled his fingers up, the callused tips had started to peel again "No, that wouldn't work." he thought and rubbed the tips of his fingers against his thumb. "Next year if the Magi won't let me test, I'll join the Syld." he thought and gritted his teeth. "Who cares what he thinks." He said and grabbed his dejembe from where it rested.

With his back against the heavy canvas he looked over the small room. "I could probably make this work" he thought as memories of the last week raced by. He tapped the soft leather of his drum, shook his head and turned to leave.  

The wet trampled grass poked at the soles of his bare feet. A slow steady stream of jembe players made their way into the camp and took up residence among the drum circle. He dug his heals into the ground, looked out over the camp and across the valley. An orange hue radiated from the hundreds of camps scattered throughout the vale.

Giants Beard, an ancient monolith centered deep in the valley spiraled high over the Tijkko ( name for oldest known tree) trees which called the valley basin home. The view on high of the primeval marker presented a show of wonder. A grand fire ringed the twisted red rock pillars and highlighted them in an amber glow. Ailao (somoane word for fire dancer) dancers encircled the shrine and cast lively shadows out into the forest.

The earthy tone of his father's Dejembe pounded into Kaidon's chest. His jaw tingled and the pit of his stomach churned. With great effort he pulled his gaze away from the valley. Thom led a group of drummers known as dje'be (gathered peace) who heeded the call of his fathers drum. Emma sat across from him with a dunun, a smaller version of the Taiko and played along with ease. Drum circles, like the one before him harmonized throughout the valley. Individual drum beats interlaced, in rhythm to form a united pulse. Legend Valley had a heart and the beat was alive with energy.

"Hi Kaidon," Candra, a friend of his sister said with a nod as she made her way toward the drum circle. A braid of gold hair cascaded down the length of her back. Slight in stature with light blue eyes and a tight lipped smile she held in her hand a small silver drum. He did his best to avoid her gaze, thankful for the dark which hid his flushed face. With his free hand he pushed his unkempt dark brown hair from his eyes and nodded in response.   

Candra embraced his mother, who stood near the fire with a Shekere, a hollowed out gourd covered in a net of beads. Nyna smiled and glanced at Kaidon as they spoke. Candra laughed, a tuft of hair fell forward and curled up just over her brow. Nyna joined in the laughter and offered a seat near Emma. She held her stomach and nodded as she fought off the chuckle. She sat with her legs crossed, placed the drum on her lap and joined the circle. Her long golden hair bounced against her back with each strike of the leather drumhead.      

Nyna made her way to Kaidions side. "She is beautiful isn't she," she said with a wink.

Kaidon pulled up his shoulders and yawned. "Suppose so… what was so funny?" he said with as casual a tone as he could muster.

She chuckled "Oh nothing, aren't you going to join?" she asked and wrapped her arm around his.

"I will," he said. His grip tightened on his drum and he dug his toes into the wet grass.

Wind roared through the camp, a swirl of leaves flew past, the fire flared and hissed. Thom balled a fist and pounded the rough leather of his drum, out of sync with the rest. The loud boom echoed through the valley.  He begun anew with a more tempered beat, the drum circle followed.

Nyna squeezed his arm "The call has been answered." She said and stood on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

A wave of dense fog cascaded over the valley ridge and rolled into the depths of the vale. The camp quickly filled with a silver mist accented by the full moon overhead. His view of the valley now restricted to that of just his camp. The fire flashed and swelled, a tinge of dark crimson radiated through the silver haze.

Kaidon pulled away from Nyna and made his way to the circle. He took up a small space aside Candra and edged his drum forward near the fire. With the flat of his palm he pressed hard in on the drums center. The heat from the fire tensed the smooth leather drumhead and warmed his hands.

 He looked over his dejembe and grinned. The lenka wood was well oiled, the scene of his first hunt carved with great detail. The hide, used for the drumhead had a few patches of course leather but, the sound was rich and full. His fingers tingled and his palms itched. He moved back from the fire and joined the drum circle. He concentrated on the rhythm of his father's dejembe and attempted to match the beat.  

The fire crackled and spat bits of ash into the air. He forced a long breath, exhaled and 'let his hands go', as his father had always said. He scrunched his forehead and squinted as smoke rolled over him.

Thom's drum held a constant beat and in turn, each drummer twisted their own style, in and out of his cadence. Candra pulled the groups attention with a quick succession of taps around the rim of her drum. Her rhythm danced with the pulse of the circle. Her hands cut through the fog with poise, a streak of crimson trailed behind each strike. She hit the center of her drum with a solid thump, skipped a beat and slowed her pace to match that of the circle.

Kaidon adjusted his legs and leaned further over his drum. His hands flew in rapid progression; from rim, to the center and back. He could feel the drum circle struggle to keep peace. An unfiltered rhythm, echoed through his mind and out through the drum.

His vision blurred and the surrounding forest dissipated around him. A ray of light broke through the crimson fog and rested on what he felt was his heart. His breath labored with warmth which sat heavy on his chest. The fog evaporated around the light and cleared his view of the sky. The pitch black canvas slowly turned a deep violet.     

The valley was taut with anticipation; wolves howled and animals clamored. The valley shouted as one "Wake up Sun!" Rays of sun light snaked through the haze and chased away the night's fog. Legend Valley was filled with euphoric energy as the sun continued to rise. The tempo continued to increase as the valley called out to the sun as a unified voice.

Kaidon felt his arms tingle and his hands struggle to keep peace. His father pushed the circle further and all at once dropped his beat to a low rumble. The circle continued to play, his hands unable to slow the beat to match his father. The rumble turned and pitched through the rhythm, his fathers hands blurred as he played. The sound punched Kaidon in the chest and pulled his emotions out onto his drum. The Sun now overhead drained what little energy Kaidon had in reserve. 

The sound of drums slowly dissipated, one by one the dje'be with drums in hand bowed toward his father. Thom bowed in kind and clasped the hand of each jembe as they slowly shuffled out of the camp. Kaidon continued to play apart from the others, focused on the lingering beat.   

Candra nudged Kandion as she stood and looked toward his sister "Meet up later?" she said to Emma and picked up her drum. His sister nodded and joined Candra on the path near his camp.  

Kaidon tapped the side of his drum and frowned. "My fingers are numb," he said.

Thom prodded the fire with a gnarled stick, "It'll pass." he replied. The embers glowed bright as he pushed what was left of the fire around. "Breakfast?" he said.

Kaidon held his arms across his chest and pulled them tight "Sure, I'll get more wood," he said and pushed himself up from the now silent drum. "How much should I grab?" he asked and looked out over the valley