Ms. Atoa looks in her element, having fun and radiating, her often time irksome, infectious happiness around her with the chimes of her laughter. She dons on the traditional attire of this village, lightweight and flowing, skirt billowing around her with each turn and sway. The girl blends into the festivities as though she were celebrating her own native traditions, clasping hands with other dances and swinging around in glee. I cannot help but find myself drawn to the festivities and slowly make my way to the end of the dancing lines and barging in.

We skip and I hook my arm into my partner’s arms for a few beats and swing and switch. Slowly my anxieties about being this close to complete strangers in public is not such a big imposition. As the steps come back to me and I relax and enjoy the atmosphere, I realized that I've not been in a community party until I realize that I am face to face with Ms. Atoa. She stops abruptly, her face coloring before I expend my hand for her to take and start to twirl her down the length of the lane.  I watch her closely, rather impressed with how quickly she learned the steps of an old traditional dance that is rather difficult to learn and find myself smiling at the joy she seems to be having taking part in these foreign festivities.  I take hold of both her hands and entwin them with my own over our heads, bringing us in close proximity and now face to face with one another, enough to stare at each others eyes.  The music cadence slows to a rest and everyone is holding their partners hands before them, waiting for the que to bow as the song ends.

We are both transfixed but I quickly recover and slowly incline my head as Ms. Atoa takes cue from my actions and dips into a curtsy and demurely bows her head as well.  Our hands are still clasp together and I find that I can’t stop looking at her as there is something very familiar about everything happening here as well as something in my dreams.  

“Amber, would you like to dance the next set with me?”  A new voice nerously intervenes and we finally break eye contact to look at the new commer.

“Oh, Dren..  I think I’ll sit this one out.”  She says offhandedly, still looking at our hands and back at me, a bit distracted.  “You go on ahead.  I think that girl over there would like a dance.”

After Ms. Atoa watches the boy disappear in the crowd and look back at us, she turns to me and says something after the long silence. “I didn’t think you would make it for the festivities tonight.”

“I had no intention of coming here but I needed a bit of fresh air.”

‘The festival is beautiful.  Have you been to one before?”

“I recall a gala like this one when I was young.”  I didn't’ mention the woman or the girl that I had seen in my vision but I didn't mention the second person to tempt me that night.  “You’ve taken to fitting in rather well.”

Ms. Atoa blushes as she realizes that she did have a bit of an overhaul makeover to be festive but chose not to elaborate. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to your festivities.  I think I may have had too much excitement for one night”

“Wait!”  The urgency at which Ms. Atoa calls out stops me.  She turns and grabs a drink from one of the main floating serves around the center of the village and takes a large gulp to down it, she wipes the remnants on the back of her hand and looks at me expectantly.

I don’t know what she is looking at me for pointedly, but I give her a look of ignorance and she just rolls her eyes before jutting out her elbow.

“Well, whadda ya say, Lucy?”  She smirks and slow.

“Pardon me…?”
“Shall we dance another set before you or I turn in.”  

“We shall.”

***

“Ugh… my head”  I groan and realize I am not in my room at home.  In fact, I have no idea where I am.  I look at the other end of the bed and see a familiar lump but that’s about where all the familiarity ends.  This room is more lavished than anything I have ever seen!  Large and open almost like one would expect, the plush bed itself is seems about the size of my own room in my loft.  Ornate wooden furniture sparsely decorated and compliments the wide space: an armoire, and comfortable looking fainting couch, a chest at the foot of the bed, etc.  

   Where the heck am I?

   I suddenly remember the events from yesterday, the festival, the dancing and then I Remember the proximity.  

     God, did I drink myself silly?

     How did we end up here? 

     After the dance, came back to the Inn and sat a the pub drinking and listening to bawdy tales of the local residents and enjoying everyone’s jovial company.  At one point a musician joins the festivities and contributed encouraged the whole bar to be loud and boisterous as he strummed on what looks like a 10 string zither or some sort.  They even play a game where the zither player strums a basic tune and he would supplement lines and various people in the crowd would complete the lines, each one getting raunchier than the previous one until the tune finished.  Apparently the countryside is known for their colorful - and that’s to put it mildly - music as there are games that inspire the musicians and if your contributions are worthy, and really rouse the crowd’s cheer, the musician would turn the raucous stories into a proper song.  We walk into the bar and listen as everyone sing ballads of mistaken identity, rendezvous’ gone wrong and plain old bad luck as the bartender keeps everyone’s glass topped up and the kitchen never slows down.  More and more people start to occupy the inn, I notice customers begin pushing tables as a long strip to accommodate for the change in space and am  astonished to see as the tables were pushed aside or around, they weren’t just shoved aside but really walked with the people that moved them.  I was utterly fascinated and squatted down to look at the design as the legs of the table crumpled and extended with various joints, cogs, dials and pinions that remind me of parts of a clock.  I sat back and watched as they gracefully moved in sync in an almost rowing motion that effortlessly glided the table and the its contents from point A to point B as though it were on wheels.

“Wow!”  I watched mesmerized by the design, “How do they move like that?”

A patron must have heard me as she chimed in, “that’s actually Pop’s design that he came up with.  He find innovative ways to furnish his inn and it’s a hobby of his to keep him busy.”
“Busier than running a bar, inn and food establishment?”

The woman just shrugged and I continued to watch in fascination as I watched multiple tables made their way to their new spots as I’ve found my newest delight of this world.

“We really should move aside and not present them with more obstacles as they move everything.”

“Whoops.”  I was so lost in my wonder of the new tables that I forgot myself but I was shocked to see that Lucy had offered his hand to help me up from my squatting position on the floor.

The once open hall of the inn is filled to the brim with people late into the night and though many people continue to drink and sing along with the musicians, the festivities came into full swing when midnight struck and everyone stopped what they were doing just to give a toast for a great quarter of trade.  The doors to the inn are thrown open and everyone parted a path leading out the doors and towards the town center where everyone from within the building can see straight through to the lone figure in the middle.  

As I drag Lucy from our stools to the door for a closer look, it seems that all the buildings within the village follows in suit, parting wide open paths from the center sweeping through the village and into each building.  I look at Lucy in question and he just raises his eyebrows in question as we look at this new tradition before us.

The figure in the middle is wearing long flowing robes and when they raise their arms up, a hush in the crowd rolls through the village and all eyes are on them.  Having everyone’s undivided attention, the figure bows reverently and while bending over starts to sing or rather chant with a deep but alto timber that is unmistakably a woman’s voice and slowly starts to bring her hands towards her bend torso and does some intricate slow movements that are almost hypnotic.  As she continues to chant, her movements become broader and more sweeping in nature as her posture straightens and the woman starts to incorporate her legs like a very expressive ballet of sorts.  

The most interesting thing happens when she starts to move her whole body; the trees that guard the buildings around us start to sway and move in time with her chanting and rock to her movements.  I watch agape as her body twirls and leaps into the air, I can physically see the trees grow and broaden their reach around them, intertwining with the tree closest to them and interlocking in a network of latticed branches and leaves and the crowd having seen this year after year join in the chanting.  Her dancing and chanting accelerates as her movements becomes more precise with each spin and each jump, twirling and twirling continuously and the crowds’ own involvement adding to the growth of the branches as they create a stronger net of branches until there is a continuous network from one tree to the next.  The mass hysteria of chanting from the crowd fuels the dancer as she spins faster and faster until a drum in the background booms loudly three time.  This soundly stops the chanting and the dancer where she raises her arms once again as though reaching out to the very trees itself and with a resounding clap overhead echoes around the entwined trees and off the valley walls.  This was almost a signal for the flowers in the glowing trees to dislodge and all at once disperse into the nights sky, serving as a closer set of stars above us, effectively breaking the spell over everyone and as they rained back down, everyone watches in awe while the flowers land and almost instantly set out glowing roots to their new home.