Submission (#2006) Approved

Word count should be 1,260! I think that should qualify for the extra 2 EC? (I added it below under rewards,

I'd like to attach the 1 AP for Bellmoril to ELN1398 (Haneul), if that's all right!

There’s many differences between each region, as it turns out. Different customs, different chores contributing to different methods of daily living, different professions to suit different needs. But… In many ways, every city and every town is also very much a part of the same whole -- of Eyre.

Haneul had initially come to Bellmoril to learn about magic. Celestial dominion was something he was interested in, even if he had no idea what it was really supposed to mean, and he was curious about the elements -- his time in Silveil was beautiful, surrounded constantly by the glittering stars set against the deep blue of the night sky, but it grew dull and he wanted to see what else nature had to offer. And okay, sure, maybe he’d gotten a discount on his ticket to Il'durahn. Either way, the change of scenery hadn’t been disappointing.

Actually, Haneul loved it. Aforementioned blues replaced with bright oranges and brilliant yellows, the sun warm on his back, tall castle spires to look upon the forests for miles. Following Silveil City, Il'durahn was like taking three large steps into a magical medieval past. The cobbled streets under the bright sky felt so alive, the crowds mingling between boldly trimmed shoes and homes offering a lively atmosphere. And the Elnin wearing robes, carrying textbooks and disappearing behind the brick castle walls, they were the liveliest of all.

It was there, across the tall bridges and beneath the windows of academic classrooms, that Haneul spent his afternoons. He had no means upon which to be considered entry to schools of magic, but just outside them he could eavesdrop on the lectures and let his mind soak up all that it heard. Some things made sense, others sounded like fantastical nonsense -- he assumed that, for now, it didn’t matter. Perhaps as he grew older more would make sense, or if he just sat beneath the sills long enough with the cool brick against his side. It occurred to him just as well that he might understand a tad more if he didn’t catch himself napping quite so often.

It was here, ears to one of the many classrooms, which reminded him that despite the vast differences between places like Silveil and Bellmoril, or anywhere else he had been, he was not so far from home after all. Pomu lanterns. The thought was more than enough to thoroughly distract him from his eavesdropping and send him bounding away from the castle spires and down toward the humbles markets spanning the hill below. He’d all but forgotten about the lanterns.

It was a welcome distraction. The shops sold little pamphlets on the basics of lantern-building and he found it difficult to sift through the pages without his Pomu’s little hands to hold the parchment steady, but he managed -- he was bigger now, nearly an adult (so he told himself), and absolutely capable. For the most part. It wasn’t as though he had the slightest idea what he wanted to do for his own design, but he assumed he’d know when the inspiration struck. Some twine, a little bell in the shape of the leaves of the region’s eldertree, and a bit of white parchment to match it’s bark. Haneul supposed that was enough to build the base; tools in hand and a satchel secured around his torso, he ventured beyond the city walls to do his work.

It’d been mid-afternoon by the time he’d gotten to the vast forests, and in a moment of doubt he wondered if such foraging would be best done with a full day of time. But at this point, the excitement had taken over and he couldn’t bring himself to care much about the time of day. He climbed halfway to the treetops in search of the largest and most symmetrical leaves, scoured the grass beneath his paws for sprouts of little wildflowers. Near a stream he tucked away a couple branches for the lantern’s skeleton; if took a break to splash through the babbling waters, well, there was nobody to catch him in the childish act.

The sun had well since dropped by the time Haneul carried his paws back into the city, satchel full and eyes heavy. He made it back to the little room he’d been renting, and carefully fanned out the treasures of his hunt. What had meant to be a moment of admiration for his own hard work was interrupted by a rumbling yawn, and despite every effort to start on his work, he had little choice but to resign himself to sleep first.

The next morning came quickly enough, at least. It was difficult enough to drag himself through breakfast before finally  setting himself to his task: the Pomu Lantern. He did his best to follow the pamphlet’s instructions, follow each step meticulously. It… may have taken a couple of tries, a couple of undos and redos, before he was satisfied with the shape he’d made tying the small branches together with twine. The parchment, made from white bark to bear a resemblance to Bellmoril’s eldertree, was laid out next. Haneul found himself, again, missing his Pomu ridiculously -- the little guy’s thumbs were much better equipped for this sort of detail work. It was difficult to lay the paper over the branches evenly enough to be satisfactory. Still, he managed it. The shape may have been a bit off, what was meant to resemble the massive trunk of a great tree more resembling a misshapen sort of rectangle, but it was close enough. It’d be all in the details, anyway.

The leaves came next. Haneul was ecstatic to find that there had been minimal damage from their time within the satchel, and he went to work with the twine attaching them around the top of the lantern. After some trial and error they managed to fan out in a vague, tree-like sort of silhouette, and he was only relieved he’d purchased more of the thread than he’d thought he’d needed. 

Left before him on the wooden floor were little flowers of varying colors -- a small number of reds and oranges, a couple blues and one purples to match his own anima. These he threaded carefully between the structure of the twine on that would tether the lantern to his tail; they sat loosely, likely to fall out over time, but it was difficult for Haneul to care in the moment. There were three bits of green fern that he’d found beneath a tree, and these he was able to attach much more sturdily than the small flowers near the base of the twine, near where he would tie it to himself.

The very last thing he did, with great pride, was gently tuck his Pomu crystal into the lantern. With that secured the entire thing began to float with a soft dual-tone glow, and it was completed.

Haneul flew down the stairs and out the door of the little hotel he’d been staying in, lantern bouncing from the twine secured between his teeth, and asked -- nearly begged -- the first Elnin he encountered outside to tie it to his tail. There aren’t many out and about with their lanterns yet, you know. They noted as they began to secure it for him. You must be very proud of yours! It’s a fine eldertree you’ve made. He tried not to flush too noticeably as they finished off with a knot. And with a warm thanks for the assistance, he set himself free upon the streets of Il'durahn, beloved Pomu in tow.