Behind the Idris household, flanked by looming group homes and other structures, was their courtyard. It didn’t belong to any family in particular, rather, it was a common area for the neighborhood. All would do their part in maintaining it: trimming the weeds, removing pests and unwanted wildlife, and fixing up the ground when it was uneven or perturbed. The yard was coveted by the neighbors of the Idrises as a place for gathering and celebration, where all could come around and rejoice in the ongoings of their modest lives. As expected, in anticipation of Elara’s birthday, Mr. Idris had proposed a gathering to celebrate his daughter in said courtyard, a proposal that was soundly accepted by their community. And thus, as the morning crept to noon, and noon crept into the afternoon, Ander found himself busy with work in the yard, preparing it to host his sister’s celebration.

His objective was to hang streamers along the entirety of the fence around the courtyard. The yard was gated by three fences, all of which had gates allowing access to the nearby homes and buildings. The side that lacked a fence was adjacent to a gravel road, the very same one he had taken to fetch water earlier that day. In fact, it was the same road he had used just a little while ago to fetch another lot of water since they had already depleted what he had brought home that morning. It was around four in the afternoon when he started hanging the decorations. Various other amenities had been placed in the yard, such as seats and tables, as well as a circle of rocks to guard the fire they would soon light. 

The whole household was at work preparing for the gathering. As his mother prepared the meat and meals, his father was off picking up a delivery of mead from a local brewery. Whilst it was, in fact, a celebration for a young girl, who was still too young to drink heavily, the adults were more than certain to partake in drinking their fill of beer and mead. Such was the way gatherings were held in Sylrel. Thinking back on his birthday just a few months ago, vivid images of the drunken Alchovs and Willards came to him, as well as their lively conversations long into the night. The thought that he, in just a few short years, would engage in such activities was a little disconcerting.

The more he thought of it, the more his attention on the streamers slipped away. Unfocused, he accidentally shifted his weight off the stool and came crashing down onto his back, hitting the patchy dirt of the courtyard. A long groan escaped his mouth as he rubbed the back of his head, not yet finding the courage to get back up.

“You ok, Andy?”

A gentle voice called out to him from behind. Seeing as he was still lying flat on his back, he picked his head up to glance around at his surroundings. Before him, eyeing him up with a concerned gaze, was his sister, Elara. Having disappeared to go aloof with her friends in the morning, he was just seeing her now for the first time today. It was a miracle that her birthday attire, being mostly white save for her shoes, hadn’t been soiled by her escapades. She had on a plain, yet elegant dress, the only one she owned, reserved for special occasions such as tonight. Just like her brother, she had a mane of blonde hair, although hers was a significant length longer than his. Brushing himself off, he rose to his feet and addressed her.

“Yeah, I’m quite alright,” he spoke, whipping dirt off his gray shirt. “Of course,you’d find me like this - flat on my rear.”

“Hmm, you are quite clumsy,” she admonished him. “To be honest, I’d be concerned if you hadn't fallen while setting all this up.”

“Always the charmer, you are,” he smiled, feeling the pain of his fall slip away. Elara always brought with her a sense of joy whenever she was around, which was quite often, seeing as she was his sister. A bright girl who had not a wicked bone in her body, the thirteen years he had spent with her was nothing short of perfectly pleasant.

“Well, I do try,” she waved away his faux-compliment. She followed up this action with a statement of sheer sincerity, “Thank you, Ander, really, I mean it. This place looks wonderful, really, it does!”

“Oh, enough of that,” Ander had no appetite for praise. It was her day, not his. “Where've you been off to anyway? It's been pretty lonely over here.”

“With friends, running around. Doing nothing all that special,” she paced back and forth, kicking the small sprouts of tall grass as she did. “We actually nicked some fruit from the northern produce stalls. We kind of ate them all, so I’m sorry I didn’t save any to share.”

“Pft, it’s no problem, I’ll have my fill of stolen food later.” With all the anguish of his fall killed off by Elara’s presence, he remounted the old wooden stool to pick up where he left off. There wasn’t a half hour left until the guests would begin to arrive. Fortunately, the streamers were the last of Ander’s work in relation to the party preparations. All he had was the remaining portion of the final side of the courtyard, and he was free to enjoy the evening.

“Ander, should I feel older?”

“Should you feel older?” He repeated her question, fiddling with the colorful fabrics as he wrapped them around a fencepost. “Ahh, I don’t follow.”

“Well, when you turned thirteen, did you feel like you were, I suppose, more adultish?”

“More adultish, let me think,” the young man stroked his chin with his free hand. He found the way she generated new words to be quite amusing, but the message was received on his end. “Nope, not entirely. To be frank, I don’t feel all that ‘adultish’ even now.”

“Really, not even a little older?”

“Well, maybe a tad,” he regressed off the stool to move it to the right, repeating the same process as he had done during the duration of his work in the yard. “But I think I know what you’re getting at.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to become an adult, Ela. More time than I have, which is a little scary on my part, but that’s none the matter. You shouldn’t be focusing on the harder parts of your future, especially at thirteen.”

“Then what should I be focused on?” She dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt, twisting slightly in place as she listened for his response. 

“Enjoying what you have now, I suppose. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow? Maybe we’ll wake up rich, or homeless, or whatever oddity may hit us. Not that I’m the best person to be giving you life advice, seeing as I’m only a grand two years older than you, but you’ll have so much time to worry about the nitty-gritty of being an adult in your future.” Having finished the final stretch of the fence, Ander landed on the ground with a gentle hop and turned to face Elara. He could see in her eyes that she was honestly listening to what he had to say. He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“So how about you ditch that silly little worry about ‘being adultish’ and enjoy the day. The party’s for you, after all.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile before leaning in to hug her older brother. He reciprocated the gesture, in spite of the fact that he found these familial hugs quite awkward at times. Not this one, however. She had asked a genuine question, and he had given a heartfelt and honest response. He could put up with her affection, especially on a day as special to her, and him, as today.

“Ela! Where have you been, you slippery girl, you!” From the fence leading to their home came their mother, waving a hand in the air as she addressed Elara with a grin. Elara rushed to their mother, hugging her with the same vigor she had just shown to Ander. “No trouble today, I presume.”

“None that I got caught doing.”

Mrs. Idris deadpanned before looking over at Ander, who couldn’t help but crack a smile at his mother’s reaction. “What am I going to do with this one, Andy?”

“It’ll be fine, mother. She’ll land a month or two in jail; it outta straighten her up.”

The three laughed as the conversation went on, viewing the real potential of Elara ending up imprisoned for stealing exotic southern fruits as a joke. The sun above, ever creeping closer to the west, nearly marked the time for the guests to start filing in. As far as the Idris’ were concerned, the party preparations had been completed. The meat and entrees were prepared, and the drinks, both alcoholic and not, were on tap. The courtyard had been set up with furniture and decorations, and the entirety of the premises looked spotless. The hearty work they had put in had paid off and now would come an evening of great enjoyment for all in attendance.

As the time struck six o’clock, Mr. Idris took to the front door to greet their guests. He held open the inner wooden door as everyone poured in, opting to lock the exterior grate in its open position. Every home had this double-door system, as whenever storms would come through Sylrel, the exterior iron grate door would bar the less durable interior one from being blown off its hinges. It had in its center the crest of Sylrel, which was nothing more than a circle, a line, and two arrows pointed at the interior of the crest.

“Mr and Mrs. Alchov, thank you for coming. Ian Willard, Sara Willard, always a pleasure. You two keep your cool with our drinks, now.”

Lively talk and laughter rose from the older Idris and the greeted guests, who sorted through the house to enter into the courtyard. Ander, along with his mother, took to the crowd with dishes and mugs filled with various palettes, all of which were heartily taken by those in attendance. Even without a formal announcement or commencement, the celebration had kicked off just like that. Such was the way things were done in Sylrel, and not a soul had a complaint.

As he moved about the crowd, Ander took pride in his work in the courtyard. The fire pit, which he had set up, was alight and roaring with flames as folks crowded around and chatted with one another, wearing delightful smiles as they spoke and ate. The younger folk, varying between the ages of five and eleven, were off playing in a corner of the yard with a small leather ball. They would often kick the ball a little too hard, sending it flying into a nearby adult, who would laugh at the reckless behavior.

“Andy, young Andy, come here!” Came the ancient voice of Beatrice Willard, the mother of Sara Willard. The Idrises had a great deal of families they were close with, but none were closer to them than the Willards and the Alchovs. With this being said, the young man viewed Beatrice almost as one would view their aunt, or grandmother. A caring elderly woman, who had the bad habit of spoiling her kin. “Over here, I have something for you.”

He showed the old woman a grin, which warped away immediately as she pressed a mug into his chest. For an elder, she still had her fair share of strength. “Here, drink! You’re old enough now, aren’t you?”

“Mother, he’s fifteen!” Came the startled Sara, who hadn’t expected Beatrice to offer the boy a cup of mead. Ian, Sara’s husband and son-in-law to Beatrice, gave no response other than the shaking of his head.

“Oh, and who gives a rat’s rear end? I was drinking at that age, and so were you. Take it, boy, it’ll make you grow up good and strong.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Ander said, his thoughts begging to differ. “Maybe I should ask my mo-”

“Nonsense,” Beatrice whisked away that silly notion. “Go on, drink it!”

“Essa be with me,” he said under his breath as he tilted the mug back. The liquid was rather sweet, coating his tongue with a pleasant,  albeit mildly stinging taste. All in all, it was quite delightful. He had imagined that, for a party, his father would have dabbled in quality liquor for the guests. Not that he had a great knowledge of what was quality and what wasn’t. It tasted good, and thus he assumed it was.

“Wow, yeah, thank you, Mrs. Willard.”

“Ah-ah-ah, boy. Don’t thank me. Thank the mead!”

The whole interaction left him torn. He had no desire to begin drinking, especially at the age he currently was. With that being said, he didn’t dare deny Beatrice’s will, especially when it came to food and drink. The last time he had visited the Willards, he had barely made it out alive on account of the piles of food Beatrice had sent his way. 

One drink won’t kill me, he thought as he took another sip. As it turned out, he was correct. He continued to chat with the Willards as he finished his drink, picking up a plate of ham and greens to satiate his hunger. His mother had prepared what was essentially an entire boar to feed their guests, who all responded with jovial cheers of praise and delight at its taste. 

“You won’t believe what this one got for little Ela,” Mr. Alchov pointed a finger at Ander, who perked up at the mention of his present. Fearing the old man would reveal what he had in store for Elara, he was quick to try and silence him.

“Really? Let’s hear it!”

“A gift? Tell us!”

The members of their circle turned to Ander, ears perked to hear about the gift he had purchased.

“You’ll all see soon enough,” he claimed, deflecting the cries for him to go into detail. “All that needs saying is that I wouldn’t have been able to get my hands on it if it weren’t for Mr. Alchov.”

“The boy’s right, I must say,” Mr. Alchov grinned while taking a swig of mead. “He had me reach out to an associate in the capital. The capital! Not just that, but where’d you find the money for it, lad?”

“Is that why you were working lumber for me?” Mr. Adrisaal, owner of a local lumber mill, and good friend of the Idrises, spoke up. “What a tenacious boy.”

“You’re always welcome back, you hear!” Mrs. Adrisaal, who ran the books and side aspects of the Adrisaal mill, chimed in alongside her husband. “Whenever you need work, we’ll always have some to do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mrs. Adrisaal,” he replied, soliciting a warm smile from the woman. He was blessed to be acquainted with such fine people, but it was somewhat odd to him just how chummy he was with people easily three decades older than him.

“Andy, Andy!”