(I would like to try this again, to write for the photo!)
Tessaray let her gaze stray to the windsock flying over the hangar. The wind was out of the South. Good. So far one omen was in their favor. She carefully avoided looking across the gathering to find a thatch of yellow hair springing uncombed above a bright, friendly face. Tallow was there. She could feel his presence, even with so many between them.
Now; which balloon were they seeking? A rose the mage had told her. Look for the balloon with a black rose on a pale background. The pilot is waiting for you. But there were many balloons straining at their anchors with lines of people waiting to board each one. Her eyes roved over the bright colors; some striped, some a patchwork of colors, some even shaped into figures.
But no rose. She circled the crowd, casually closing the distance between herself and Tallow. Coming up behind him, Tessaray stood close enough to whisper, but far enough not to arouse curiosity. “Where is the rose?” She whispered.
Tallow gave no indication he had heard her. But an answer, soft as a flutter wing, teased her ear. “It hasn’t been launched yet. Work your way over to the North side of the field.”
Tessaray moved away again continuing to wander in an aimless fashion toward the far side of the field where the display was taking place. Onlookers were eager to claim a ride in the spectacular balloons, to drift over the town and country in silent wonder. One or two had already lifted off and bystanders were cheering them on while waiting for their turns.
The north side of the space was reserved for the vehicles hauling the balloons with space enough to lay out the huge swathes of fabric with their carrying baskets and burners. Tessaray spotted a patch of soft yellow with a black rose in the center. Ah, there it is. She thought as found a stump to sit on as though watching the preparations for flight.
The pilot looked her way and nodded turning quickly back to his work. She saw Tallow walking toward the balloon from the opposite side even as the balloon began to fill with hot air from the burner. Slowly it began to lose its flat, lifeless shape and took on a life of its own. Ropes tethered it to the ground and the pilot kept a secure hold on his burner so just the right amount of hot air filled the bright fabric.
Soon the balloon was hovering above the basket. The pilot motioned to Tessaray and Tallow and they ran to the balloon. Others were also running to catch a ride, but the pilot waved them away. “Private passengers!” he shouted and helped the two clamber into the basket.
Its bonds cast away the balloon rose quickly in the morning sunlight. Tessaray looked down just in time to see the red jackets hurrying into the field. “We made it, Tallow! Now duck before they see you!”!…
Anyone who likes can take this and fly with it!
Donna Swanson
