He flung the headpiece away, growling at it as he did so. “I’ll never be as good as father, so why should I even bother trying?” He sat down on the ottoman in a huff, the brightly coloured feathers and streamers of his costume fluttering delicately about him. “He should be the one performing this dance, not me.”

His companion, a short, stout woman with kind eyes looking out amid the wrinkles of her face, her steel-grey hair pulled back in a serviceable bun. “My dear boy, that does not matter. Your father has innumerable years of practice heralding the sun, you will not be as talented as he overnight.”

“I just don’t understand why he had to leave us like this, Analise.”

Analise clucked softly and sat down beside the young man. He was barely more than a child, having only reached his 16th nameday mere weeks prior. He took after his father in appearance, blazing blonde hair so bright you might think it would illuminate the darkness and eyes that were the opposite – dark coals that had unfathomable depths in them. Analise sometimes found those eyes to be disconcerting on one so young, but she had cared for the boy since he was a babe and she was mostly used to them. After all, when playing nursemaid to a godspawn, certain allowances had to be made. “Your father is a very important god, Jesavan, and this is not the first time that he has left unnanounced. You simply do not remember the times before.”

“It’s not fair!” Jesavan cried, standing up and moving towards the open window of his dressing chamber. The view before him was an incredible panorama of bright green trees, birds flitting about in their canopies, with the sparkling waters of the ocean peaking through. Jesavan was oblivious to the beauty, however, and his black mood brought shadows over the forest though no clouds were visible in the sky. Analise moved to him and put her arms on his shoulders in an effort to comfort the young god, but he shrugged her off and took a step away.

“Child-”

“I’m not a child!” He said petulantly.

Analise sighed, “Very well. Jesavan, life is not about being fair. Especially for gods. so get rid of any thoughts you have of fair.” She grabbed Jesavan by the shoulders and steered him back to the ottoman, pushing him into the seat and then settling beside him again. She patted his knee affectionately, “You will go out there, just before the sun sets. And you will dance, Jesavan, as you have never danced before. When the drums begin to beat and your foot begins to tap, I promise all thoughts of not being good enough will fly away.”

“How do you know, Analise? You’re just a mortal. You can’t possibly know that!”

Analise chuckled, not at all offended to be called a mortal. Technically, that was what she was, though she had lived for centuries. “Jesavan, your father had the same fears when he first heralded the sun, too. I told him the same as I tell you now.” She smiled, “And do you know what, ‘Ven? It was the most beautiful dance I have ever seen him perform. The rawness of his inexperience made him so sincere in his movements.”

“I’ll never move like him. He can flow, and I just can’t.”

“Jesavan, just because he shines with the light of the sun does not mean that your candle does not shine brightly, or will not one day be as bright as the sun. Now, up, child! Let’s get that headdress on, and you can go and show the people that your flame is burning bright.”

Jesavan allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, reluctant but accepting of his duty. He picked up the headdress, smoothing one of the bright red feathers that had been bent when he threw it, and settled it upon his head. He spread his arms and spun slowly for Analise, “How do I look?”

“Like a young sun god.” She shooed him with her hands, “Now go, ‘Ven. Go and dance with all your heart and soul. Say goodbye to the sun, ask it to join us again in the morning.” She touched his face gently with a wizened hand, “You will be perfect.”

He grabbed her hand as she withdrew it, “You will watch?”

She smiled, eyes twinkling, “I could not miss your debut, Jesavan. I have waited to watch you dance for many years, now.”

The night air tastes sweet as my feet take me along the faint forest pathway, only visible thanks to the tiny, dancing lights that lined each side. I can feel my body swaying slightly in time to the still-distant music even as my feet pull me forward. I’ve already given up on stopping my forward momentum, having unsuccessfully snatched at my doorframe, the fence post and passing branches. My fingers would slip and my feet would take me marching onwards again, towards the barely heard music and whomever was making it.

I can feel the trepidation in my chest, the fluttering of those panic butterflies in my stomach. What awaits me? What is drawing me through its music? Thoughts of sirens luring sailors to their death flash through my mind, though surely it couldn’t be anything like that. My little village is no where near the ocean and the music sounds as though it was the creation of many, not of one. Do forests have sirens, I wonder to myself, but I have no answer.

The firefly path leads me deeper into the forest, and still my feet keep time with the music that draws closer with each step I take. I can hear the individual notes and voices better, now, and it sounds like an entire choir of singers. If this voiceless, beautiful sound can truly be called singing. To my left, I see a fox and her kits peeking out of their den, as entranced by the music as I am. They resist its call though, and as my feet lead me past them the trio duck their heads back into the den. I had hoped, for a moment, that perhaps they would join me on this journey and I feel a sadness that reaches deep down to my soul when I realize they will not.

I have no time to dwell on this, however, as my feet continue to march forward despite my wishes, and my body continues to sway in time with the music. I do catch sight of a few birds that seem to be flying to the beat of the music, dipping and zipping around the tree canopy like so many acrobats. I wish I could have paused to watch them dance, but my feet continue to take me forward, through the forest.

I’ve been walking for over an hour, now, and the deeper into the forest the less familiar everything is feeling. Despite growing up next to these woods, spending days and nights playing and hiding around the trees, I cannot recognize what is around me. The trees feel more ethereal, and the vines that creep around their trunks sport flowers I’ve never seen before.

I try again to stop myself, my actions more desperate now than when my feet led me from my home, and I grab at the passing branches. The bark strips off in my hands and still I continue forward, unable to resist the music. What is waiting for me? Where am I even going?

I don’t have to wait much longer to discover the truth.

Just as my panic reaches a crescendo inside my breast, my feet stop. At first, I can’t understand what has happened, I still feel as though I am moving ever forward. But then my sense catch up with the rest of me, and I can’t be anything but overwhelmed.

Before me, in a glade I have never seen before, a dozen or more tiny forms dance and spin, sparkle and shine. They dip here and there, coming together and then spinning apart in an amazing display of color and coordination. It feels like I am watching a living firework show, and I can’t help but be completely captivated.

From where I stand at the edge of the glade, I still can’t see the source of the music that continues to draw me in. My feet, no longer taking me forward, begin to tap in time to the beat, my body sways of its own accord and I find myself barely able to hold back from joining the dance.

I take a cautious, difficult step. Difficult because I just want to leap into the dance. I see the trio of little drummers sitting on their mushroom seats, a small, delicate woman pulling the strings of a miniature guitar. The wordless song tugs at me, and I am finding it harder and harder to resist.

Finally, I can take it no more. I tear off my clothing, for the music demands that I be free, and I leap into the circle. I can feel the joy of the pixies as I begin to twirl amongst them. They dart around me, weaving in and out of my flowing hair, around and under my waving arms. I stamp my feet in time, and several of the pixies stamp the air beside me.

I can’t help but laugh as I spin, thinking for a brief moment what I sight I must make – in my thirties, dancing naked in a glade with naught but glowing pixies for light. The thought left my mind as soon as it entered it, for this was not a night to dwell on the mundane. Tonight was a night to revel, to dance, to feel joy and wild abandon. I can feel the pixies encouraging my dance, they make me the centrepiece for their own beautiful dance and, together, we create that which this world has never known. It is just a shame there is none but us to enjoy it, but this is as it must be. I know this, and so do they.

Finally, after whirling and dancing until time held no meaning, I collapse on the ground, exhausted, spent, unable to dance any further. The pixies circle me, and I watch them with delight and contentment. A shimmering of dust falls from their wings, gently dusting me, and I yawn widely as it settles on me. Before I know it, I’m fast asleep in the little glade.

I am awoken by sunlight creeping up to my eyes and I sit up straight, the night before just a blur of music and lights in my memory. With an unsteady hand I rub my eyes and push my hair from my eyes. I pause, halfway through the act of pushing back my hair when my eyes really fix on the color. What used to be a dark blond is now streaked with colors of all sorts. Greens and blues, pinks and purples, reds and oranges.

A reminder that the night before was real. A reminder that I determine I will embrace, though the other villagers may shun me for it. No matter – they shun me already, this will be no worse.

With my head held high, I gather my discarded clothing and begin the walk home.