Families & Fireflies

The town of River's Bend wasn't large, but it was out of the ordinary for Agnes to see so many people out after nightfall nevertheless. At first she thought there must be some kind of festival, but it was normal this time of year for farmers, laborers, and youths to keep the cobblestone market square busy past midnight. Even in the village there were those who liked to sit out and chat while viewing the moon or work at crafts late into the night. But nowhere near this many.

Agnes couldn't recall how long it had been since she'd stayed up so late. Chares Tumlin, Hektor's cousin, ran a charming tavern at one corner of the square called the Pint and Plov. The latter referring to a dish the establishment was famous for borrowed from the Tumlins living around the Uzegdel Highlands.

Agnes was able to endear herself to her new friends by knowing why only one of the Tumlin Family's many establishments could bear the name. The lively Tumlin's Taphouse in a southern port where they invented the up-tempo and brassy style of music a horn trio was playing inside the building. Agnes always liked the wordly flavor you tended to see at places run by the bigger Littlefoot Clans. Doris the weaver could imitate rugs from the markets of Maazbaatar or heavy flannel the Highland Counties used to make winter wear in addition to the typical fabrics of the area.

The rest of River's Bend was more familiar to Agnes. She was used to the town square's statue of Apollo and his chariot. It was one of her husband Lysander's first major commissions, she didn't see him for five months but he was so proud of how it turned out. What Agnes had never seen was the summer spectacle in the flower bed around it. Goldenrod and Echinacea in bloom attracted hundreds of fireflies to the statue. Particularly around the chariot wheels givng them a brillant show like sparking flames.

“A real artist of a gardener came up with that one” Agnes thought as warm air of the summer night and the gentle babble of River's Bend's namesake across the square made it hard to keep her eyes open. Still, the vibrant company of a generation of young Tumlins eager to hear stories of their ancestors gave Agnes the jolt she needed to hang with her eager juniors.

“So you knew Granny Nelle?” Asked a doe-eyed young woman running a perfume shop next door.

Agnes chuckled thinking about the young woman she'd once known being called Granny, “Yes, yes and you clearly take after her. Her mother wove fine rugs. Still have one that was a wedding present in my sitting room. So heavy I have to use a spell to shake it out these days.”

“So tell me,” Chares asked as he poured another round of strawberry wine for the revellers. “Was Great Granny Demi really as tough as they say?”

“Demetria? When she had those three girls maybe, if only because she knew how wild young women could get!” Agnes's revelation had the crowd on the edges of their seats. “Of course, that was back when River's Bend was a hot gambling town. Imagine someone who could count cards that easy would be good at legitimate business when they grow up a little.”

“Definitely couldn't get anything past her!” Cried the oldest Tumlin in the group, Char's father Dorian who originally built the tavern and now spent his days drinking for free. “Explains why she always gave me a hard time about dice to boot!”

They carried on like this for a while before Agnes felt a need to stretch her legs. River's Bend maybe used to have a more active nightlife but tonight felt a lot safer for her to explore by herself. Taking in the menagerie of new sights and memories of the market town she'd made many trips to over the years.

There was a favorite spot of hers still yet to be touched by the hand of time. Follow the river north just past the edge of town, a small but well-construted stone dam and irrigation channels that would divert some of the flow to the outlying farmland. Aside from the few city laborers who might clear it of debris every other season, most don't even know such a critical piece of infrastructe even exists. Which was how the wise old mayor in those days wanted it. The stone channels diverting water towards the farmland had a tiered design that made for a nice place to soak one's feet and the layout was perfect for encouraging a beautiful flowering vine she guessed was a kind of Vinca.

The water was cool in the warm summer night as Agnes gingerly settled on one of the upper steps. Perfectly dry as always, even if it looked like they'd be slick. Agnes's mind drifted to a memory from long ago. A budding young mason led his beau to this very spot. It was a midsummer night like this one, like tonight more of the fireflies congregated here away from town than by the statue the same mason would later erect in the market square. Just two young lovers by their secret fountain, unseasoned idiots who thought those warm summer nights would last forever.

Lysander wouldn't have tried to stop her anyways, and Agnes knew it was true he would barely notice her absence so absorbed in his work. It was one of her favorite things about her husband. Even that night long ago he spent an hour telling her all the little details about the type of stone and where it was sourced from. The tools he used, the sediment in the waters. Agnes found these wild bursts of passion cute even if the subject matter was dreadfully boring.

Still, she wondered how he was doing and if he even noticed the lunch she left out for him. “He'll be alright,” Agnes murmured aloud to herself as she heard a snapping twig behind her. It was Hektor Tumlin who'd come out to see where she ran off to.

“Ah...I like this spot too.” He said as he took a seat next to her. “Fine stonework eh?”

“Yes, just like when it was installed.” Agnes responded. The two took in the quiet of the midsummer night together for a long while as she debated how much of his grandmother's raucous youth the young man should be privvy to.

“So, I've been meaning to ask...” Hektor was the first to break the silence. “What brought you all the way out here?”

“I'm going on a journey.” Agnes offered with a titter.

“That's nice,” he responded lightly. “From one of the villages up in the hills? That's a pretty good trip this time of year. Cousin Char would be happy to put you up for a night and you can hit the mark--”

“--River's Bend is only my first stop.”

Hektor was taken aback. “Oh? Going all the way to Zylpolis? I could send a message to one of us out there and have them deliv--”

“--Not that kind of trip, though your offer is kind.”

Hektor grew concerned, “Mind telling me then? Hate to pry but I'd love to return the favor for the spider and well...not telling everyone.”

Agnes placed a hand on Hektor's, he was surprised by her strong grip. “You're a sweet lad, humility is a virtue. It was your quarry, so it's your story to tell.”

Hektor couldn't figure out if she was just being nice or still didn't realize how precarious a situation she had rescued him from. He put those thoughts aside as he inquired again, “So where are you headed? If you know the Tumlins you know we're all over. Surely one of us can help.”

“Even Giant Country?”

“I'm sure there's a few,” Hektor mused before his comprehension caught up. “Wait...Giant Country!? You can't be serious.”

Agnes's tone had barely changed through the entire conversation. She relayed the story about her foolhardy grandson as easily as if she were rattling off a shopping list for an excursion to a bigger city. Hektor listened to every word patiently, growing more impressed with the elderly woman's resolve. Didn't dare suggest this trip had a high chance of being in vain. Normally he would be aghast at the idea of a helpless old woman venturing so far, but then again he saw what he did in the forest.

When Agnes finished her story Hektor stood and offered her a hand to help her back to her feet. “Well, if that's where we're headed.” He said as it turned into a handshake.

“Hehe, you Tumlins are all the same.” Agnes tittered. “There's no point telling you no when you think you're repaying a debt. Happy to have the company.”