de:Lauf durch den Winter en:Running in the winter es:Correr en invierno fr:Courir dans l'hiver
 
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Notes: (Nilstilar, 2023-02-21)


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The story I'm about to tell you is based on a traditional Matis competition that I heard about from an old friend who had once entered it. I made a story out of it. My friend's name was Collix and he told me what he experienced during that contest right here in Matia. But I'm going to tell you the story from the point of view of a young Matis whom I called Cillis.

Cillis was afraid. But, like all young Matis of his age, he did not want to show it. Not in front of all the other Matis gathered in the shrine square of the Altar of Jena, and certainly not in front of his team-mate. The floating machine, made of that strange material the Karavan used, hummed and buzzed over their heads. Its guardians looked at it with impassive eyes and watched the surroundings.

Cautiously, the young Matis glanced at Nehi. She looked calm and composed, her chestnut hair tied back in a ponytail and her milky skin glistening in the morning sun. She was clutching the linking stick in her raised palm. Her grip was firm and her knuckles protruded slightly.

The kids had known each other for a long time and had started practicing running immediately after the draw two weeks before. He liked Nehi. There was only one thing that bothered him about her: when he looked at the girl, who was a head taller than him, he felt a strange pressure in his chest. As if something wanted to come out of him, but couldn't. She was a good running partner and despite her longer legs, she adapted to his speed and was careful not to pull too hard on the linking stick. The smooth dark wooden stick, about three cubits long, which didn't exactly make crossing the forest any easier.

As she listened intently to the words of the Yrkanis Intendant, Cillis's attention was also drawn to him.
"Homins!" said the Intendant in a loud voice.
"Proud Matis! Once again, a cycle completes its loop of eternal return. And once again, we gather here to celebrate this day and witness the traditional children's race."
His words were punctuated by discreet applause and here and there cheers could be heard.
But not from the runners. They were all tense and some seemed nervous like week-old yubos. Cillis hoped the others would not attribute his shiver to emotion, but to the cold that was slowly seeping through his thin jacket. The Intendant continued:
"As with every change of cycle since our arrival in the New Lands, many young Matis are meeting here today to test their strength, courage, skill, honor and tenacity. And to show all of us Matis, that they are among the best that our people can produce."
Cries of joy erupted among the gathered homins. Cillis, in the atmosphere thus created, saw each applause dissipate a little of his fear.

Wham!
A snowball hit the back of his head. The young Matis turned and saw Bunis, the arrogant son of the Royal Guard lieutenant, slowly and smugly wiping his right hand on his doublet. His team-mate, Cordesi, was grinning like a gingo as he looked at Cillis. His running partner, Cordesi, was smiling the way gingos smile as he looked at Cillis. Nehi also turned and stared coldly at the two Matis.
"Anyway, that team of girls won't even make it to the Green Seeds," Bunis hissed.
And all around him, other runners were snickering behind their hands.

Before Cillis could reply, the Intendant's voice rang out again:
"The twenty teams present will begin their race in the winter in a few minutes. Not all of them will have it easy and all will be tested. As always, experienced scouts are already posted throughout the woods who will report on the actions and behavior of the runners. These are subject to one rule only: no one must be hurt! As for the rest, the runners have the right to do anything that can give them an advantage. This year again, the race, starting from Yrkanis, will pass through Natae and Davae to end in Avalae. There, my colleague will welcome you and, after hearing the reports of the scouts, he will name the winners."

Cillis looked at Nehi again. She was slim and strong, a summer younger than him and yet taller. She was tapping her foot on the spot, like many of the children who were waiting, since light boots were not made for the snow. Cillis' toes were also tingling slightly, but he didn't want to look like a baby yubo. Tradition dictated that the race would be run in light refugee attire. That is, that of the first messengers between cities still under construction, long before, when materials for stronger cloth could not yet be collected.

"Everyone to the city gate, now!" shouted the Intendant.
"Come on homins! Let the race begin!"
At the call of the Intendant, a first team set off: two girls holding the stick tightly between them started to run along the road. It was a sign that they would not run to win, but that they only wanted to finish the race. Because the route along the marked road was both easier and longer than the direct route through the forest, whose snow-covered ground made running difficult.

Three more teams had yet to leave before Cellis and her partner. She gave him a smile that warmed his heart. But then he saw that Nehi too was terribly nervous: excitement shone in her eyes and little clouds came out of her lips at the rapid rhythm of her breathing.
"Well, what do you think? she said. Forest or road?"
A little surprised by the question and mortified that she might think him a coward, Cillis remained speechless for a moment. And his answer wasn't as confident as it should have been:
"Huh? F... forest... FOREST! Of course!"

   


This story has been told by Lylanea during the second Meeting of the Bards which was held Mystia 2612-4 (OOC: April 2021).


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