The Green Ceremony

FOUR POINT FIVE YEARS LATER

"This is stupid. Why do you get to do this dumb ceremony and I don't?" Arson groused, watching Odie braid their hair - long and getting longer - into an intricate plait. Their mother would pin it up properly once they donned the dress for the ceremony, but Odie was expected to take at least some care of their own presentation.

"That's something you should probably ask your mother," Odie said, shrugging. "I'm just excited for the dress. Mom got me a really pretty one that goes down to my ankles! And she said I don't have to wear shoes!"

Arson smiled at that. His friend hated shoes and it was a well-known fact throughout Alfa Alari. Odie's parents often chased them down, scolding them for running around barefoot.

"Yeah, well, she won't tell me," Arson said with a shrug. "Just like she won't tell me what my name was supposed to be. It's gotta be better than Carson!"

"Not better than Arson, though," Odie said with a grin. "That's the point of a name: to tell people about you. And now everyone knows you're a menace."

"Everyone knew that anyway."

"That's true. Now help me with this other side, and then I gotta get dressed so you better scram."

Arson smiled and began braiding the untouched hair on Odie's head, fingers nimble and quick. Despite his disappointment that he wasn't going to be permitted to take part in the ceremony - despite his birthday being two months ago - he was excited for his friend. The Green Ceremony was very important, another appeal to Hylia for guidance and for a champion to show himself. They were all given green clothing: green dresses for those who preferred them and a green tunic and brown pants for those who did not. Then there were speeches and toasts, a breaking of bread and dancing, not to mention music, and everyone who had or would turn thirteen in this calendar year would be a part of it.

Despite his complaints, Arson was honestly rather okay with the fact that he wouldn't have to sit through all the pomp and circumstance. He knew that he was thirteen without having to go through seven adults declaring him as such, and being thirteen meant that he could go on adventures and explore - dragging his friend with him, naturally. And of course he had to check in on occasion; his parents would worry otherwise! He just didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to be part of the ceremonies praising Hylia, nor why his parents didn't even have a statue of her in their house. It was silly! (He prayed to her every time he was at Odie's house, though. She seemed nice, after all.)

The best part of not taking part in the ceremony himself, however, was the fact that he would have a prime view of the dance that Odie was to do. They had been terribly secretive these past few months after the Elder had chosen them to do the dancing as the ballad was played, and he wanted to see the payoff. Odie had said it was a lot of hard work, and their feet and legs reflected it, being bruised and scuffed from practice. If he were on stage, Arson wouldn't be able to see them very well at all, but he planned on being in the front row as support - even if his parents weren't thrilled he was even attending.

As expected, the ceremony was dull except for the part where Odie danced while a young girl in white played a song on the harp. The dance (and song) consisted of wide, sweeping movements, several graceful jumps and twirls, and some intricate maneuvering that Arson wasn't sure he wanted to learn how to replicate. Odie had green and white ribbons tied on their wrists so that they would catch the air as they danced, emphasising the movements further. Arson was enraptured; Odie's practice and dedication showed through clearly in the sheer skill of the movements.

Then it got boring again with adults yammering on about how thirteen was a special age where people would begin to find their chosen calling or some such nonsense. This was, after all, the point of the ceremony, the dance, the song, the prayers: to help all of the younglings find their calling, what Hylia had chosen them to do, as well as to pray again for the chosen hero.

"Thirteen is much too young," Arson heard his mother, Cira, whispering to his father. "So much can happen between now and adulthood. Why must the children be chosen now?"

"It is as it always has been," Lati, his father, said. "And thirteen is a perfectly good age to begin to travel and learn the world. It's not as if we are asking these children to go off and die in a war! Merely to begin thinking of their futures."

"Still don't see why she has to be brought into it," Cira grumbled, still wounded by the goddess's words all these years later. "What would she know? We know our kids best, after all."

Lati, wisely, just shrugged. There was no need to blaspheme at a ceremony dedicated to the goddess they were talking about. It was just disrespectful of the others who did believe.

Once it was finally over, Odie was quick to find their way to the small family and was immediately engulfed in three hugs.

"You did very well," Cira said, placing her hand on Odie's head. "I could see how hard you worked on that routine."

"Right? It was tough, too. I'm glad they let me dance barefoot, though. I know it's not safe, but I can't see anything without my glasses. At least I can tell where I am if I'm barefoot." Odie beamed in pride, not terribly bothered by the fact that they had what they claimed was the world's worst eyesight - or at least the village's worst.

"I am proud of you, Odalia," a woman said. Her white hair was braided and piled on top of her head and her eyes shone with pride. She handed her child their glasses, which Odie snatched up and jammed on their face unceremoniously. "To be chosen to take part in the Ballad as the dancer or the harpist is a very high honor, and I am glad you chose to bear it with the dignity and pride deemed proper."

"I wouldn't disappoint you, Mama." But Odie's attention could only hold for so long when in the presence of their best friend. "So now that we're old enough, where do you want to go? I want to go to the Keshi Forest. I heard it's haunted."

"How about we start with a short trip to Cafa Dorei," Lati interjected, putting his hand on Arson's shoulder. "I need supplies for the shop, and you two are just the perfect pair to retrieve them."

"Cafa Dorei? That's just a couple hours down the road. That's not an adventure," Arson protested. "That's just an errand."

"And an errand is a good first adventure," Rove - Odie's mother - stated. "You shouldn't be too desperate for adventure and turmoil. You might just get what you ask for."

"Well, duh," Arson said, rolling his eyes and receiving a slap to the back of his head for his disrespect, but he kept on going. "That's what we want. Fun! Adventure! And a little light burning." He shrugged casually.

"Asking for such things often brings on worse than what you desire. Be careful what you wish for, Arson," Rove said, her voice smooth and thoughtful, a small smile on her face. "Bad things can happen when one seeks out trouble."

"Mama, with all due respect, trouble usually finds us," Odie said, cocking their head.

"Even more reason to start with a short trip to Cafa Dorei," Lati interjected. "And I'll even let you come back the next day so that you can get your fill of exploring that town and learning what is necessary for longer trips."

"Alright!" both children cheered, giving each other a high five and grinning broadly. Adventure was out there! And they'd just been given permission to seek it. Kind of.