Annalisa touched a taper to her twin brother Aaronolis' lit candle. The twilled wick sputtered for a moment as its wax sheath melted before catching the flame. Then they placed their candles before the statue of Erollisi Marr and prayed.
"It is our pleasure to keep the rituals of the past," Annalisa explained to their friend Messira. "Many have forgotten the lore of the ancient gods, but Aaronolis and I will never do so."
"Yes, but what good are prayers since they believe the gods have abandoned us?" Messira shook her head. "I respect that you honor the old ways, Anna, but what about the ways of today? When it is unsafe for us to walk alone, when shadows draw closer and friend turns on friend? They say if the gods existed, none of these things would happen."
Aaronolis spread a clean cloth over the rough-hewn table that served as a place to dine as well as to worship in the Swornlove household. He laughed and winked at Messira.
"Now, now, Messy," he said, calling their friend by her childhood nickname, "Times are never as dark as 'they' paint them."
After a moment of stubborn silence, Messira said, "Perhaps. I only know that it seems the world is filled with more of 'them' than of good-hearted folks like you."
Over supper, the friends shared tales of times past. All their lives they had lived in their little village, no more than a collection of four or five old stone cottages near a sheltered mountain pass. Messira, a cloth merchant, traveled beyond the village's holdings several times a year. Most of her journeys were uneventful. Others gave her many misgivings about what lay beyond the borders of their childhood world.
Shifting in his seat after their meal, Aaronolis said, "Messy, the stories you tell are sometimes painful to hear. How can it be that everyone has forgotten the old ways? It's not possible that we are the only folk who remember the festivals and holidays from the ancient days."
"It is true," Messira replied. "I do not make up tales of wayfarers being slain for simply giving someone the day's blessing for my own amusement."
"Aaronolis, we must do something," Annalisa said urgently. "In a few days' time we celebrate Erollisi's Day. It's time we went out to the people of the cities, to share our knowledge and invite them to celebrate the day with us."
"They would mock us, maybe even kill us," Aaronolis said, shaking his head. "They are not ready to reap the benefits of the goddess's Day."
"Now who is concerned about what 'they' would do?" said Messira. "Your sister is right, Aaronolis. You can sit here and celebrate with only our village, or you can help others remember the old ways."
Aaronolis leaned back in his chair, balancing himself on its hind legs as he considered the idea. Messira and Annalisa exchanged glances but said nothing; this was how Aaronolis had always sat when deep in thought, to the ruin of many a chair.
Looking around the plainly furnished room, Aaronolis said, "I cherish our home and a quiet celebration in Erollisi's honor with my dearest friends. And yet, you are right. If we celebrate here, no one else would learn the meaning of her Day."
Annalisa clapped her hands joyfully. "I agree! Messira will take me with her to Freeport if you would go to Qeynos."
"I…" Aaronolis' words were cut off as the chair's legs suddenly collapsed beneath him. Tangled in its splintered remains, Aaronolis gazed at the destruction ruefully before the girls' chuckles made him grin. The friends laughed until tears came, a good omen for setting forth to help others rediscover the bonds of friendship and love that come with honoring Erollisi's Day.
You too can help Aaronolis and Annalisa celebrate Erollisi Day by completing a special task for them. Qeynosians should seek out Aaronolis, standing outside the North Qeynos gates on the bridge in Antonica. Freeportians should seek out Annalisa, who is outside the West Freeport gates near the towers.