Chapter 187 - New Year, New Me

The next day the mines buzzed with more festive energy than Sonder had ever seen before.

Lanterns lined the tunnels, but their usual glow was replaced by lanterns with multicolored hues that shone across the stone walls. 

The dwarves had adorned the halls with garlands of braided metal—thin strands of copper, silver, and gold woven together like rivers of light. 

There were small ceremonial fires scattered throughout some of the main tunnels.

And yet, amidst the revelry, the faint, rhythmic clang of hammers on anvils echoed in the distance. Even on a night of celebration, the dwarves could not completely abandon the call of their crafts. 

Sonder walked beside Vell, just taking a tour through the city, her head swiveling to take in the sights. 

"It's... very lively," she observed.

"It's New Year's Eve," Vell replied matter-of-factly. "Did you think the dwarves would let the year turn without a proper celebration?" 

"I didn't think it would look like this," she admitted, gesturing to the colorful lights and bustling crowds.

The votes for the Dwarf Lord had been cast just the day before, but the mine seemed busier than ever. 

"It's very pretty." 

Vell nodded. "The dwarves celebrate the turning of the year differently than most. Up on the surface, it's fireworks and champagne. Down here, it's about honoring the past and embracing the future—though there's no shortage of alcohol." 

Sonder's gaze lingered on a group of dwarves clustered around a large stone slab. Each dwarf held a small hammer, tapping rhythmically against the surface.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"That's the 'Echo of the Year,'" Vell explained, following her gaze. "Each tap represents a memory they want to preserve. The sound carries through the mountain. It's their way of ensuring the past isn't forgotten." He glanced at her. "Would you like to add a memory? 

Sonder hesitated, her eyes fixed on the rhythmic hammers. "No," she said softly, shaking her head. "I think I'm okay." 

"Fair enough," Vell said with a small smile. "But don't let the sentimentality fool you. The dwarves balance reflection with plenty of food, drink, and friendly competition." 

As if on cue, a cheer erupted from a nearby group of dwarves engaged in a drinking contest outside a tavern. Their stone table full of mugs as the competitors downed frothy ale from them in unison, each one looking more determined than the rest to win.

I see what you mean," Sonder said. 

Their path eventually brought them to the heart of the celebration—a massive open chamber dominated by a towering central pillar etched with glowing runes. 

At the pillar's base, a roaring fire burned, casting long shadows across the crowd. Dwarves gathered around, adding wood when needed.

"Let me guess," Sonder said, pointing toward the fire. "That has some symbolic meaning too?" 

"Of course," Vell replied, "That's the Forgefire. It represents creation and renewal—the spark that keeps the dwarves moving forward. At midnight, they'll add a special powder blessed by the priests. The fire changes color, and they take it as a sign for the coming year." 

"What kind of sign?" 

"Depends on the color," Vell said. "Gold for prosperity, green for growth, red for strength, blue for calm." 

"Is there a bad color?" 

"Dark colors," Vell admitted, his tone quieter. "Black or purple and such—those mean hard times ahead." 

What he didn't tell her was that the color was predetermined by the priests. It had been centuries since the fire burned in dark hues. 

Sonder nodded, her gaze fixed on the fire. "It does feel significant." 

"It is," Vell said. Then, with a lighter tone, he added, "But don't let it weigh you down. Tonight is for celebration. Happy New Year, my little Blackbird."

"Happy New Year, Vell," she replied, a bright smile spreading across her face.