Town Circle; afternoon - Calvin, Kell, Briar
Ordinarily Calvin, so often up early in the morning to pray, might have noticed an Aurellian servant scrambling his way back to the servant's quarters, but this morning he'd been far too distracted by festival preparations to pay much heed to the comings and goings of his fellow staff at the manor. Even with his more than twenty years of experience assisting with Turning Festivals in various capacities, the act of leading them still felt fluttery and unfamiliar.
Though he, of all people, should have been joyful on this, one of the holiest days of the year, an air of melancholia clung to the young Danu that, while hardly noticeable to those who didn't know him well, was nearly impossible for Calvin to shake. He genuinely believed what he'd said today -- that grief and sorrow were transient, as all things were; that no condition, even darkness, even death, was ever truly permanent.
But for all the celebration in the air, it was especially hard for Calvin not to grieve today. He missed Danu Malcolm, whose homily would've been tighter and cleaner, more uplifting. He missed Robor LaRouche, he would've sent him a letter around this time, one filled with equal parts snark, good advice, and some Braddon passage that would have been somehow perfect. He missed home, though he wasn't precisely sure where that was anymore. Not Castyll, considering how long he'd lived away from it, now. Not Casbryn, though his seminary town would always feel like a piece of home. Not Hiraeth (could it have been more aptly named?), since that place didn't technically exist anymore. His grief was large and unwieldy, uncoupled as it was to any specific loss. There had been too many to count, too many to reasonable consider all at once.
But he smiled softly as Kelly flagged him down. "The winters are long and dark," he said. Not compared to Clovenne, necessarily, but just because winter was longer or darker elsewhere didn't preclude their country's own suffering. "Always best to be prepared for suffering, but to know that it will end." He took a small sip of the warm wine that someone had pressed into his hand. "Are you enojoying yourself?"