The open field had been transformed in the last few weeks. Standing on the stage, looking out over the field, Ian was caught up, as he always was, in the deep history of the place and this event.
For as far as the eye could see in the gathering blackness were the canvas tents, aligned in circles emanating out from the great bonfire at the festival grounds center. Other, smaller fires could be seen breaking through the inky darkness, allowing loose the shadows to dance and play within their glows reach.
'So many years,' Ian thought as the crowd gathered. 'So many moments, so many good and happy memories, so much history has passed through this single spot.'
Ian looked at those close to him, Millie, his stalwart companion, always there, always prepared to lend a hand when necessary. Always did she provide him the love and support that were so crucial to him down through the years. He smiled warmly at her, and it was returned, all of her love and need and desire communicated in the simplest but most meaningful of gestures.
Behind her, eyes searching the crowd and the darkness, Nigel, with his uncanny senses and piercing eyes, his strong right hand these many years. So much pain and violence, could anyone have asked for a better compatriot with which to meet the un-meetable? Ian thought not.
Valerie, Michael and Tera stood off to the side. Shifting his gaze from his companions to Michaels, he was hit for the first time with the truth of his life, that soon the future would come, and it would be in someone else's hands what path that future followed.
The thought brought both relief and sadness.
Relief that the burdens of leadership would no longer be his, that his time would be his own without the responsibilities that he had borne for so long. But there was also the sadness, that he had not done enough, that his stewardship was merely a placeholder.
He had done all that he could over the years to hold the line against the darkness, but had he truly done that, or had the loss of ground simply been to small to notice as the line moved inexorably in favor of the enemy.
Shaking his head Ian put such thoughts out of his mind, tonight was not a time for such ruminations, tonight was a time for helping the people of this place heal from the destruction the day had wrought. To provide hope in the midst of fear, to give strength and purpose in the face of what may be to come.
The scene before Ian took him then, the history, the power, the ultimate goodness of the place and people found purchase in his heart. The night seemed to pause, the fires to brighten; the air took on the electrical feeling of some great...impending as Ian began to speak.
"Exspectata Amicitia," Ian said, his voice, imbued with power and emotion, rolled out from the small stage over the hushed gathered crowds.
Michael was intrigued by the Latin greeting, something that harkened back to the roman influences over this small island so long ago.
"Another year has passed, as has been our custom for untold years, we gather during these few days to give thanks."
"Thanks for the bounty provided this year."
"Thanks for the people in our lives who share the road with us."
"Thanks for living in this place that provides so much. So much history, so much bounty, so much...hope for the future."
Ian paused, looking out at the shadowed faces of the crowd. There was a sense of expectation and serenity that came from the gathered multitude. It was the simple comfort that comes from maintaining and honoring the traditions of our ancestors.
"This year has seen Nogardshire continue to prosper. As it has been for centuries our little corner of the world has always been a place filled with a unique kind of magic. As I look out over the faces in crowd, I know them all. We are more than a community, we are friends, bound together by time and history and intention."
"So often people today do not see the person next to them. They walk through their lives wrapped in a cocoon of self-absorption, locked away from those that they see every day. This, for me, is the greatest gift of living in this amazing place, knowing that by taking the simple action of walking out my door and down the lane I will be confronted with someone I know, someone who I share a heritage with, and in so doing, we pass on that gift to those that will come after us."
As Ian said this his gaze shifted briefly to Michael, the men's eyes met for a moment, it gave Michael a sense of deep foreboding before Ian shifted his attention back to the gathered crowd.
"Often times when we speak of this place, we do so within the confined context of our shared past. We speak of the things going on outside this hamlet as if the outside world, its issues and problems, are not quite connected to this place."
"That changed today." Ian's hands moved up through his hair. He could feel the pain and fear coming off the crowd as they stood enfolded in the moment.
"Today, the outside world made its presence known to Nogardshire. And in so doing, added another page to our long history."
"We lost friends today, every single one of us lost someone that we knew, someone that we grew up with, cared for and loved."
"There are six of our clan who will never see the sunrise over the cliffs."
"Who won't feel the cool fall wind as it strips the brittle leaves from the oaks."
"Never again shall we find them laughing at ancient jokes within the pub."
"Mary and Camilla will not be able to brighten the center of town with their spring walks to the grocers."
"Claude will not see Malcolm get married and have children. He won't know the happiness of telling the old tales to his grandchildren."
"Malcolm will never know the enlivening joy of falling in love, the pride of watching his children grow, the comfort of years well spent living in this amazing place."
"We won't be able to slip into the cool interior of Sean's place. To find him their behind the counter, listen to his latest escapade and find that odd treasure which he had such a knack for finding. All of us have something needful that Sean provided."
"Sarah won't be starting Oxford in the spring. She will never tend to the children she wanted. Her long hoped for dashing young prince will have to find her on the other side."
Ian's tears sparkled in the firelight as they slid from his eyes. The weight of these losses, the useless suffering they caused weighed on him like nothing before.
He felt his portion of regret, knowing that his actions were most likely to blame for this befalling his home. But from the pain he felt from this loss, from his part in it, sprang forth a rage that steeled his determination.
