Inspired by events witnessed while volunteering at a local pride.
Once upon a time, it was a very dark time. Villagers with little good to hope for began crafting colorful flags from wildflowers to add brightness and cheer to their otherwise dreary lives. The king, viewing these new flags as an insult to his authority and mandate to only fly the Royal colors ordered any village flying such a flag burned to the ground.
Legends say when enforcers arrived to the village of Nowell to execute this terrible order the villagers banded together and fought back! Pushing the brutes from their streets. Unknown to our heroes however, these villains had established a small encampment just outside the city near the riverside. The villages could not breech their fortifications and yet the attackers were not equipped to combat this overwhelming mass of villagers. Locked in stalemate, the villagers began to celebrate! Not just any celebration though, a wild party surrounding the garrison lasting for days! Loud music, bards and poets experienced and new, dancing and delicious food for all, all of the villagers that is. The kings agents, cut off from their supplies, suffering from constant noise at all hours, and the intoxicatingly cruel odor of the most amazing foods mere feet away while their rations ran out two days ago. Eventually with no other choice, they conceded, surrendered and returned to the palace in shame after pledging they would never attempt to carry out an order such as this again.
Since that time, once a year, as the days begin to grow longer and warmer, the villagers gather at the fairground by the river established to commemorate this great victory and the efforts and costs to achieve it. Musicians, artists, vendors and merchants from all around the land come showing their skills and offering the most colorful wares you have ever seen for sale, the riverside is quickly awash with a rainbow of color as the villagers join in the fun by wearing their most colorful garb to the fairground.
On one such sunny day, the celebration was well underway. A minstrel was performing their version of a famous bard’s stories from the main stage, meanwhile many vendors were diligently selling their wares, and others still were present to tell their stories or showcase and celebrate the support they offered the village.
It was a beautiful day and everyone was having such a wonderful time, surrounded by such a loving community and awash with color. Alas, there was a surprise in store for them all today… Although for now it remained unseen, just past the trees, just over the horizon, a small but ferocious storm was making its approach. No water would fall, however Boreas was determined to make an appearance and he made his presence known with a chaotic windstorm assaulting the fairground.
The ferocious wind tore through the celebration in a rampage, some vendors experienced in constructing their temporary shops simply braced any loose goods from floating away and waited for the winds to pass. Others with much more haphazardly constructed huts who were not expecting any turbulence would not be so fortunate.
One such shack began to be lifted from the ground by the wind, rising up nearly out of reach, villagers screamed in horror as it began! However this was the exact moment our hero arrived. They seemed to appear out of nowhere from the crowd, wearing a beautiful rainbow themed two piece outfit. Armed with nothing but their courage and determination they immediately sprung into action!
Quickly our hero leaped and grasped at the only corner of the structure close enough to the ground, and with all their might they pulled. They pulled, pulled and pulled and though strong, the wind continued to threaten to pull the hut away forever.
Until, our hero made a choice. Bravely they made the sacrifice needed to save the day. The small bag of artisan cookies hanging from their their left wrist was obstructing their grasp. If they were to drop it. Perhaps…
Realizing they would not have the fortitude to save both the hut and the cookies, they dropped the cookies without further thought, readjusted their grip and with a mighty cry, ripped the hut out of the sky and firmly planted it into the ground. Almost simultaneous to this slam to the earth, the wind dissipated. Boreas conceding the fight, just as the villains of ages past once did.
Our hero sighed in relief, then solemnly stared at the hand that until just recently grasped such wonderful treats.
There was no uproarious cheer for our hero, no, there was no parade or special recognition for their incredible strength or bravery. In fact, as our hero stood there stunned for a moment mourning their cookies, everyone else began to return to the celebration, or to at least clean up some of the loose debris. A group of vendors who occupied a nearby stall and witnessed the feat endeavored to collect a small bouquet of flowers for the hero, though it would be no replacement for their cookies, they thought an acknowledgment was necessary for their bravery.
Looking at the colors of flowers around them they quickly began to argue about which to include. Eventually they agreed on a formal arrangement of Black roses, while lilies, and purple orchids. There were some who were arguing to include the bright yellow daffodils, some arguing for the more golden carnations and some saying the three they had were just fine and no yellow hue was needed, but that is a tale for another day.
I bore witness to our hero’s noblest sacrifice. I saw their cookies fall to the ground with no thanks or recognition offered. And I swore to my companions then, I would write that tale to immortalize the non-binary hero’s noble deeds!
M. if you’re reading this, said I would, feel free to harass me about CG now 😉
Z's Grimoire 
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