[SWE] The Festival of Lights

Asavvi My mind, my body, my soul Only feels good standing out in the cold When Asavvi had been a girl, she’d often had a dream where she could make stars. Not the cold, distant pinpricks, but warm, fist-sized balls of light that would dance and spin around her and she’d treated them like friends. She hadn’t had that dream in years but every once in a great while she thought of it and it warmed her from the inside out. She thought of it now, standing on the edge of a gathering and watching as lanterns were hung. Not everyone, it seemed, was as new to this land as she, and from the talk she’d picked up on it seemed like this was more than a celebration but a longstanding tradition. She watched with curious eyes those that moved to hang their own little lights, some with handmade creations, some calling on magicks to set their glowing beacons. No matter how they were made, each lantern seemed like it was hung with care, almost with reverence, and often with murmured words that she’d been unable to hear. A man caught her eye as he returned to the gathering and she moved closer to the fire herself to stand near him. Desmond had an approachable countenance and so she didn’t feel so intrusive for asking a few questions. "I hope you don’t mind me asking, I’ve not been here long, but-" She glanced outward at the hanging lights and back "What are they for? "