Lozerief

Eheste Lozerief was no stranger to failure, but her successes outnumbered her failures 10:1. And, right now, she was inclined to believe that. She rarely basked in her successes–she usually hated the thought–but the organization and success of this Axotafase celebration helped her step back and realize her successes.

Looking around, she caught a glance of a blonde haired woman in a sea of black hair. There was, of course, only one person this could be: Pægjom Az, Hero of Language and Hope.

Lozerief approached, eyes glancing quickly at a couple of pretty women in corsets and dresses. She'd have to go visit them later.

Hiding below her black umbrella, she approached and greeted the Hero of Hope quietly. 

"Hey 'Zef!" Pægjom greeted. "So good to see you!" She wrapped Lozerief up in a hug before letting her go. In her teal dress, Pægjom looked quite attractive to Lozerief, who sported a warm blush across her cheeks. 

"Also unto you," Lozerief responded, wiping the blush off her cheeks. She took glances left and right before asking, "where's Céi? Did she come?"

"Of course!" Gjom nodded. "I wouldn't go anywhere without my Guardian." The reality of i was that Céi was not Gjom's parent, but rather a part of Gjom's role as a Hero: The protector.

"Good..." Lozerief paused. "I'll need you to do the talking."

"Cool!" Gjom smiled. "Of course I'll do it!" Before Lozerief left, though, Gjom added, "Any luck on finding your Guardian?"

Lozerief huffed. Finding her Guardian was a touchy subject–she was the only Hero without one. "None. No progress."

Gjom frowned. 'Well, at least you'll find them eventually, right?"

Lozerief sighed. "Yeah, we'll see." She paused and looked away glumly. "Any word from Dolgof?" The Hero of Life (Dolgof) had disappeared just two hundred years ago. Lozerief had cared so much for her, and she'd later realized she'd ben in love with Dolgof. It broke Lozerief's heart when she could no longer find Dolgof. Sadder still, that pain never really did pass.

"None," Lozerief said glumly, hanging her head. "I miss her. I wish she would've stuck around..." Lozerief huffed. The only way to get over herself was to focus on her work. "I'll be back. I gotta go organize." She waved to Gjom and strutted away, heels clacking against the concrete sidewalk. 

She pushed her way through the crowd while various men attempted to court her–all of whom were pushed away by Lozerief. She thought nothing of those men, for they all had the same hopes in mind: a family.

The very idea of birthing children startled Lozerief, no matter how immortal she was. It wasn't like she had to worry about it either way–she wasn't into men.

With a final stomp, she arrived behind a giant cross and met the leader of ceremonies: Head General Xåjas.

The Head General stroked his gray beard and looked around anxiously before latching onto Lozerief in a hug.

"Lozreief!" He cried. "Thanks for getting this together!"

Starved for air and squeezed tightly, Lozerief squeaked out a "no problem". When she was let go, she brushed off her dress. "Your speech is on the podium."

"Thanks again." Xåjas smiled. "You always do well with this." His old, comforting smile warmed Lozerief's heart, and she smiled.

"No prob'." Lozerief beamed. "Any word from Dolgof?"

"No, sadly." Xåjas sighed. "I miss her."

"Me, too," Lozerief agreed. "Let's focus on the now, though. See you up there in fifteen?"

Xåjas nodded. "Of course!"

Lozerief nodded. "Take care. I'll be back." 

She strutted back the way she had come previously, looking around for the women she'd seen in neat dresses earlier. It was only now that she realized just how short she was. Nearly everybody  was taller than her in some fashion, and the few that weren't were spread few and far between. She'd never been self-conscious about her height before, but it was almost like humans had been growing taller since she'd been alive. 

Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when she fell flat on her rear after hitting another person, soiling her dress and covering her in mud. She groaned, rubbing her forehead while a woman in front of her started apologizing profusely. Curiously, Lozerief looked up to see a woman in a pretty, yellow dress waving her arms and apologizing. Before she could  offer her hand, though, the woman had already started to pull Lozerief up. 

Lozerief huffed, muttering about her dress while the woman beside her bit her lip. "Ma'am, are you ok?" The woman asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a dress," Lozerief muttered, wiping away the mud as much as she could. "Thanks for asking, though." When she looked up, she found the woman's blue eyes staring down into her green, which prompted a warm blush again. "What is your name, madam?"

"Oodefyztoo Shiit." Oode blushed with embarrassment. "I'm from Ytos."

"And you came all this way for Axotafase, Ms. Shiit?" Lozerief tilted her head curiously, now thoroughly interested in this woman. The dual republics of Ytos and Itaush had their own Axotafase celebration: Ametafaz. Why would she have come so far for this celebration?

"I feel called to be here," Oode responded. "I feel as though the wind itself has brought me here to celebrate in this foreign land that I may become a more cultured person and expand my horizons." Oode looked so genuine in her facial expressions and the way she described everything that it couldn't help but make Lozerief warm up a little on the inside. 

"Would you like to stick with me, then?" Lozerief asked. "I'm planning to be up in the front row."

"Would you mind?" Oode asked, looking around. "I'd like that."

"Excellent." Lozerief grabbed Oode's hand, dragging her up to the front right before the celebration began.

Head General Xåjas led the first speech and an initial prayer before Pægjom led the crowd in a call-and-response. All the while, Lozerief's hand sat in Oode's happily. Oode looked at peace, as well, which made Lozerief happy, too. 

And then, it came time for the ceremonial burning of the cross that had held Lozerief, Dolgof, and Pægjom. With one snap of her hand, the cross went up in flames, and the crowd cheered for the freedom it represented. 

Oode, unused to the imagery, squeezed Lozerief's hand, but Lozerief sighed and relaxed, bringing her in for a hug. And, when the cross was burned, the crowd solemnly moved over and smeared the ashes across their forehead. 

Lozerief, too, moved with Oode, but before she could smear the the charcoal across her forehead, Oode did it for her. The intimacy it presented made Lozerief heat up awkwardly. Hesitantly, Lozerief returned the gesture to Oode, who then kneeled.

"Thank you, miss." Oode smiled.

"You, too,"  Lozerief replied, biting her lip while she squeezed Oode's hand. "I'll see you around, I suppose..."

"And unto you." Oode bowed before dropping Lozerief's hand, and turning to leave.

It was the same every year for Lozerief, and this one was no different. she wasn't interested in love, anyways–not now, at least, and maybe not ever. She had bigger things to focus on. But, little moments like that were always welcome for her. They helped keep her in check.