Chapter 24
Balar could hardly contain his joy and pride as he led Imogen into the otherly village.
His brothers walked with them, together forming a unified pride.
Balar had suspected it for a long while, that even though he and his brothers got along just fine on their own, had made good lives for themselves, their family only felt complete with a new erēz.
Imogen still blushed and harrumphed at being seen as an erēz, but that was all right.
She would grow into the role; Balar had no doubts she would meet the challenge.
She already acted as an erēz in many ways, even if she didn’t realize her soft power.
His brothers deferred to her, and Kiri often went to her for guidance.
She provided a center for their pride, a place to call home even if their cabins still stood at the otherly village.
Despite some initial reservations, his brothers had all come to love and respect Imogen.
Akila was always looking to earn her laugh and smile with a joke, and steady Soren had become something of a confidante to her.
Balar had set Diar to follow the merchant Gilda, to find out where and to whom she sold Imogen’s goat milk and wool—so that they could undercut the woman and help Imogen profit directly.
Diar threw himself into the hunt with gusto; if he had his way, Imogen would be running a goat empire within the year.
Through many nights of discussion and planning, he and Imogen had decided that his cabin would be broken down and moved to her land. Adding it onto her cottage would provide much more room for them—and any of his brothers wishing to stay overnight.
“I suppose I’ll need to see it,” Imogen had mused, “so I can get an idea of what we’re working with.”
Balar had lit up at the idea. My brave kigara. She was suggesting coming to the village, and he knew just when to bring her.
With winter beginning to release its icy grip on the Darrowlands, the village had decided it was time to convene and take several important votes—mainly, for the village name and their new mayor. From what Balar understood, campaigning had been fierce in both races.
His last official act as mayor was to oversee the smooth conducting of the vote.
He perhaps hadn’t been the most devoted of mayors, but this at least he could do. And it was the perfect opportunity to introduce Imogen to the village, for a long evening of feasting, drinking, and dancing followed every vote.
The whole village had gathered in the central square around an already roaring bonfire. Imogen dug her fingers into his forearm, but she kept walking forward.
He’d assured her, many, many times, that she would be more than welcome.
Amongst a village of green-hued skin, blue feathers, and red scales, her birthmark would be seen as an interesting human patterning.
“You’ll be positively mundane!” Akila teased on their walk over.
Balar might have smacked him for it, if he hadn’t been so correct.
Keeping an ear out to catch if Imogen started breathing erratically, Balar lifted his free hand in greeting. The others were quick to notice their arrival, and murmurs of interest stirred through the gathered crowd.
More than a few stepped forward to meet the fabled new mate of the mayor.
First came Ema and Ulmo, the half-orc siblings, who pumped Imogen’s arm up and down in enthusiastic human handshakes. “Welcome, welcome!” Ema said. “It’s good to finally meet Balar’s mate! We’ve all been wondering about you.”
“We hope you’ll vote for Ema in the election today,” said Ulmo with a wink.
“She’s not voting!” gasped Ema. Then, with a considering look, she amended, “Well, why not. She’s with Balar.”
“Although, she did lose us the bet.”
“Hmm, there is that...”
Balar smoothly drew Imogen past the debating orcs, Diar intercepting them when they made to follow.
Next came the harpy sisters, one after the other until they were surrounded by feathers.
“Here she is, finally, Balar. We were beginning to think you were embarrassed by us,” Maritza sniffed. Extending her winged arm to Imogen, she said, “As vice-mayor, it’s my pleasure to welcome you to Feathertown.”
“You’re mayor for five more minutes,” said Nareeda, rolling her big eyes.
“And it’s not Feathertown!” Ysera fumed.
“Not yet, maybe, but I’ll win the election. Both of them!”
Pushing past her squabbling sisters, the gentlest of the harpies, Andreen, smiled sweetly at Imogen. “Hello. Welcome to the village. I’m Andreen.”
Imogen took the hand Andreen offered and squeezed. “Hello, I’m Imogen. It’s nice to meet you.”
Andreen ruffled her feathers in pleasure. “Oh, you’re as lovely as I thought you’d be. I knew whoever Balar chose would have to be lovely. Especially with him disappearing all the time.”
“He just couldn’t stay away,” Imogen teased.
It was Balar’s turn to blush.
With Akila sacrificing himself as a distraction to the harpies, they moved along through the crowd.
They eventually shed Soren and then Kiri, each offering an escape from more sets of well-wishers.
Imogen faced all the attention bravely, just as Balar knew she would.
As they reached the far side of the square, he patted her hand. Almost done.
It was with relief that they came to the last villagers, Briseis and her brother, Theron.
The dragons greeted them warmly, although Balar held his breath and winced when Theron asked Imogen, “Are you sure you haven’t any dragon ancestry?
” and touched the side of his own face, indicating her birthmark.
Imogen’s eyes rounded. “I don’t think so, but…” A small smile touched her lips. “I like the idea.”
The four of them laughed, the tension of a moment ago bleeding away.
“I hope you don’t mind, Balar, but I’ve decided to run for mayor, too,” said Briseis.
“Why would I mind? You’d make an excellent mayor! All the younglings will be so proud to have a mayor as their teacher.” To Imogen, Balar explained, “Briseis runs the new school for otherly and human children.”
“I’ve heard only good things about it; Kiri loves you,” said Imogen. “It’s wonderful what you’re doing.”
Briseis perked at the praise. “Thank you. It’s been a dream of mine to open a school. It hasn’t been easy, to be sure. But I’m pleased that in the spring, Maeve Brádaigh will join me as another instructor.”
“Oh, is she back from university?” asked Imogen.
“I believe she arrives home soon and we’ll begin planning after she’s settled.”
Imogen and Briseis chatted a little longer about the school and the half-dragon’s plans for it until a bell began to clang. They turned to find Maritza in the center of the square.
“Your attention, please! It’s time to get voting underway.” With everyone now crowded more tightly round the bonfire, Maritza motioned for Balar to take over.
Leaning down to kiss Imogen’s temple, Balar hustled to join the harpy.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming—and for being patient with me over these past months.” The crowd chuckled with good humor. “First, thank you for your warm welcome to my beautiful mate, Imogen.”
The crowd turned to look at her, still standing with the dragons. Her eyes went wide, and he could see how much she wanted to tug her hair into her face, but she stood her ground. The villagers clapped and cheered, calling more greetings and well-wishes to her.
“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to feast. So let’s get these votes out of the way. First, the official village name. Blue stones for Feathertown, red stones for Otherton, and yellow for Dannan. Pick up the stone and place it in the counting basket.”
Balar watched on as the crowd formed orderly lines to pick their stone and cast their vote. He cleared his throat when Maritza leaned a little too far over the basket, no doubt wanting to see how her contender was doing.
When the others had finished, he and Maritza both threw in their stones. Blue for Maritza, of course, but Balar chose yellow. He’d been touched to know that Soren of all people had recommended Dannan, from the mantii word for haven.
Taking up the basket, he replaced it with an empty one.
“As I count, please now cast your votes for mayor. Blue stones for Maritza, red stones for Briseis, and yellow stones for Ema. Candidates, please cast your votes and leave the square until called.” No one needed Maritza breathing down their neck as they voted.
Balar counted the first vote, the candidates voted then left, and the other villagers lined up again to cast their second vote.
By the time they were done and the candidates returned, Balar was pleased to announce, “As for the village name, I’m pleased to welcome everyone to Dannan!”
A cheer rang out from the crowd, and Balar picked up the second basket. “Let’s eat!” he declared.
As Balar counted the second vote, hot drinks were passed around. He was happy to note, from the corner of his eye, that his brothers were taking care of Imogen, bringing her a drink and staying in a loose circle around her so that others couldn’t crowd her too close.
In the end, there were almost as many yellow stones as red, but at final count—“Your attention please!” he called. “Help me congratulate and welcome our next mayor, Briseis!”
Gasps and cheers went through the crowd. All eyes searched for the dragoness, and it was Theron who, with a wing, had to usher her forwards. Briseis looked positively shocked, and as Balar congratulated her, she couldn’t seem to stop rapidly blinking.
“Congratulations, Briseis,” he said just loud enough for her to hear. “You will make a fine mayor.”
Briseis smiled, hands going to hold her cheeks. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured.
“You will take excellent care of Dannan, I know this for certain.”
There were a few papers to sign that’d be sent to Dundúran, and Balar would need to give her the village charter—now with the name filled in. But that was all for later. For now, it was time to drink and celebrate.