Day Twenty-Two: Pledge

My sword's in the ground when I'm welcomed into the circle. A nice groove in the ground, perfect to slip it into and suggesting this isn't the first time such a stunt had happened. It's almost entertaining, glancing round. Seven cloaked figures, cloaks dark blue and with embroidered patterns. They're all hooded, faces shaded by the thick material of the hood, even if the occasional glimpse of a flashing white smile can be seen.

Each of the cloaked figures speaks in turn. I know who's beneath them, each of the jewels One was allowed back, the pretty girls who could flirt and kill easy enough and then had to readapt to regular life. The first is the shortest. as if they're going in height order.

"Amber Rosehip. First Victor of your name, first of your family. Do you swear to uphold the values by which this Society lives our lives?" "I so swear." My response is quick. Light enough, as the next figure steps forward, and I swivel myself the 40 degrees necessary to face her. "Amber Rosehip. Victor. Do you swear to devote yourself to the honour of the Society of the Songbird?" The sigil is displayed prominently, a songbird and an apple, on each of the cloaks. I'm not quite sure what it means, and nobody's been willing to tell me.

It continues in this vein for some time. One hooded figure at a time stepping forward, glancing at me and speaking a question, to which I assent. It's almost reflex by the end, fun reflex but a little jarring to follow statements after the freedom I've had recently.

With that done, the figure before me draws her swords, flicking them in her hands before placing one curving blade flat on each of my shoulders, tone entirely formal in line with the aesthetic. "Then, Amber Erendira. Victor. Arise, as the newest member of the Society of the Songbird." I do arise, and the room erupts into excited giggles with this. Clarity, once my mentor, throws back her hood and the rest of them do the same. The lights are turned on. The table along the wall is still covered in various drinks, and there's enough pillows and blankets strewn across the floor for a small army to rest and recuperate. Citrine speaks, at 44 the oldest among us. "Well then, girls. I believe this week's party is in order. Anybody's anything less than completely done before we put something stupid on the screen and I'll blame myself for being a bad influence and making you boring." The pause after Clarity speaks is enough for me to get a word in.

"Why the songbird?" I have to ask the question, and Demure throws back a giggle before responding. "Because of that incident. The one where songbirds in One got absolutely piss-drunk and flew into walls. We need our fun, and while unfortunately we can't fly, I can confirm we're all very good at getting piss drunk."

Citrine steps forward, nodding. "Plus, after Everdeen. Well, it was deemed a name that could get us investigated and that'd be damned funny if it did happen. So welcome to the Society, Miss Rosehip. I trust you'll be joining us, then? We're always welcoming new members, and you are the only One under 45 not to be in on the fun."

"Joining you for..?" "Well, fun of course! We're Victors, we need some coping mechanism, and getting pissed with friends is better than trying it alone. So we do this every Tuesday night, thank Midas for that one day off we get." "Only thing we can thank him for." That's , and the rest giggle at the mention of the former head of the Spire.

"Yes." My response is final. After all, these are my peers. My friends, I'd say, even if I'm sure they'd complain. Cashmere claps her hands in delight, and I can hear Sable from behind me. "Then what are we waiting for? Lets get this party started!"

The rest of the night is a blur. Drinking, a lot of it. There's various shows blaring on the TV, everything from romances to dramas about the Dark Days. The only pause is when Laurel wheels out a karaoke machine with an excited bounce, and in an instant the festivities kick up a notch. It seems there's another reason for the name Songbird, one provided when a chirping Demure starts. Her singing's not half bad, and after her is Citrine, Clarity, Sable.

I think I get a go, but memory's fickle at the best of times and the alcohol, the bouncing lights, the continual blur of motion and fun and everything that I wanted from Victory all mean that in general I'm supremely uncoordinated at the end of the night. By eleven Citrine and Opal are twirling like they haven't drunk enough to kill a pony or three, Laurel, Sable and Cashmere are in the corner spinning a bottle and giggling at the secrets flowing out about Capitolites, and Demure is with Crystal throwing up in the bathroom. All in all, a chaotic scene, but familial.

Clarity sidles up to me, looking decidedly less drunk than I am, and receives my hand on her shoulder and a giggle. "Cl, Cl, Clar... Why aren't you having fun! Trust me, you can't be so... boring all the time. You need to loosen up." She shakes her head, and I head mirth in her tone. "Amber, I'm staying sober. Someone has to, we take turns." "B-but you're not having fun?" "You have fun, Amber. You made the pledge, you earnt it. i'll be the one supervising you all home safely. Next time, though, you're the boring one."

Author's note

Is this blatant self-service? Yes, but I felt this needed an injection of levity, so here's the pledge ^^ We are back to dark and deep tomorrow!