A letter from a loving mother to her child. Based on its content, it appears to contain records of the family's past.
A Letter Home
My dear child,
When you once asked how our ancestors lived in the sky, I always told you that their stories were too long to be told in one sitting. But today, as I find myself with a rare moment of leisure, I want to capture those stories passed down through our family, leaving them as a keepsake for you.
Did you know? Our ancestors also had places much like the Okhema market. In the twilight corridors where day and night met, people from different tribes gathered to exchange goods. The Sunfolk brought sun-dried cloud wool, the finest material for weaving fabric; the Rainfolk sold condensed thunder dew, which, when applied to the skin, was said to make it glow; and the Winterfolk traded their special ice crystal candies, which dissolved slowly on the tongue, with a sweetness that lingered all day long.
As a child, I was most captivated by the tales of these markets. Your grandmother often spoke of them, not only for the trade but for the spontaneous performances on the cloud platforms. The most popular were the Winter Tribe singers, who could make the falling snowflakes dance in time with their songs. The Rainfolk, too, were experts at using the rhythm of thunder to accompany their melodies, perfectly in tune with the storm.
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Our traditional meals were far more exciting than those of Okhema. Each tribe had its own unique customs: the Sunfolk held midday Sun Feasts, where they used specially crafted crystal vessels to refract the sunlight, roasting food to a golden perfection; the Rainfolk, on the other hand, only ate when the thunderstorm arrived, believing that the air was freshest then, and even the simplest cloudsheep milk tasted heavenly.
But the most distinctive was the Winterfolk's Coldwoods Tea Party. They set long tables beneath trees covered in icy flowers, sipping tea brewed from starlight. The liquid was clear when poured, but as the temperature shifted, the tea would change colors. Our family has a favorite joke: Once, a Rainfolk got so excited at a tea party that one sneeze turned all the tea into frozen columns.
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Like you, the children loved to play. But their games were very different from those on the ground. The most beloved game was Lightchasing, where children divided into teams and chased each other through the dancing shadows and beams of sunlight between the clouds. The children of Sunfolk were the fastest runners, but the Rainfolk kids excelled at finding shortcuts, while the Winterfolk children were known for their unexpected, strategic moves.
Another game was called Kite Dancing, where participants glided through the clouds with the wind. It was not only fun but an essential training to master the art of controlling air. Your grandfather used to say he was quite skilled at this game when he was young. He once flew across three layers of clouds in a single breath, winning admiration from all.
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Whenever Aquila's light shone brightest, our ancestors would celebrate with a grand Sky Light Festival. All the tribes would lay aside their differences and gather together in joyous union. The Sunfolk would weave ribbons of radiant light, the Rainfolk would fashion beautiful, rainbow-colored cloud bridges, and the Winterfolk would let shimmering snowflakes fall from the heights. The entire mural would be bathed in a dazzling array of colors, a sight so breathtaking it could leave you speechless.
But the most exciting event is the annual Dawn and Dusk Festival. It's a celebration dedicated to the rising sun and setting moon, and an important occasion for different peoples to gather together. Everyone brings their favorite foods, shares funny stories from the previous year, and puts on performances. The Sunfolk often showcase their light-weaving skills, making sunlight dance between their fingers; the Rainfolk perform the Thunder Dance, moving in sync with the rhythm of thunder; and finally, the Winterfolk bring up the rear, playing their ice crystal instruments, the sound of which is said to resonate throughout the entire sky.
As I write this, I can't help but recall what your grandmother always said: Though we now live on the ground, if you just look up at the sky, you can still feel the blessings of our ancestors.
Maybe one day, when Aquila's scars are healed, we'll return to our home among the clouds. But until then, let us cherish the life we have now and remember these stories — they're our treasured heritage.