The Aristes

By E A (Edward) St Amant

The Great Betrayer strikes to enslave the Proudhon on Troan. The Soul Slayer will try to seduce the Proudhon with pleasure and gifts, including a celestial virgin and a masterful slave. In the third book, the Proudhon surrenders to the Heart Harrower’s forces on Nuway, a planet with a punishing gravity to the Races. In the fourth, the Proudhon is taken to the secret society of Burydane on Edede, a planet in the Purze Sun System far from the Circle Cluster. In the fifth, the Proudhon acquires work in the Ministry of Essential Duty on Centre planet in the CentreRule administration. The decisive struggle takes place in the sixth and final book on Centre, in Photon Rain Forest, under the Huntuu Gilian Tree.

A stunning and gripping epic. By book three, I was so enthralled, I couldn’t wait to finish reading to the end of book six to follow the future of the characters and the outcome of the story. Strongly built characters with whom the reader will interact; there are some you cheer for and some you want to see get their comeuppance. I purchased this rather intimidating looking six book series with a healthy dose of skepticism. Since then I’ve been converted. Beautiful. It starts as a chase story and like a snowball rolling downhill gathers everything into itself faster and faster until it crashes into the Beginning One himself. A masterpiece a great epic with good characterization, a well developed universe and lots of action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E A (Edward) St Amant
• Release date: Jun 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452382890

E A (Edward) St Amant

E A St Amant is the author of How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water, Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain and Stealing Flowers.https://www.minds.com/edwardatedstamant/https://tededwardstamant.substack.com/

Book preview

Book IV

The Aristes

Published by E A St Amant at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition August 2011

Verses and poems within, by author

Web and Cover design by: Edward Oliver Zucca

Web Developed by: Adam D’Alessandro

eimpressions Toronto Canada

Copyrighted by E A St Amant May 2006

Author Contact: [e-mail]

E A St Amant.com Publishers

www.eastamant.com

All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, emailing, ebooking, by voice recordings, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or his agent. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, companies, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances whatsoever to any real actual events or locales in persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Circle Cluster, Book IV, The Aristes = ISBN -13: 978-0-9780119-3-2; Digital ISBN: 978-1-4523-8289-0. Thanks to the many people who did editorial work on this project and offered their many kind suggestions, including Dr. Phil Miller, T R St Amant and Susan Alsbury. This series would not have been possible without all the long hours of work by Val Gee.

By Edward A St Amant

How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water

Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain

Stealing Flowers

Spiritual Apathy

Restrictions

Book of Mirrors

Perfect Zen

Five Days of Eternity

Five Years After

Five Hundred Years Without Faith

Fog Walker

Murder at Summerset

This Is Not a Reflection of You

The Theory of Black Holes (Collected Poems)

The Circle Cluster, Book I, The Great Betrayer

The Circle Cluster, Book II, The Soul Slayer

The Circle Cluster, Book III, The Heart Harrower

The Circle Cluster, Book V, CentreRule

The Circle Cluster, Book VI, The Beginning One

Non- Fiction

Atheism, Scepticism and Philosophy

Articles in Dissident Philosophy

The New Ancien Régime

By E O Zucca and E A St Amant

Molecular Structures of Jade

Instant Sober

Living Animal

Chapter 1

Arck and Grey made their way to the ceptor-bays on board LotusEater, and when they arrived, giant brettiscreens taking up whole walls, showed both the Purze Solar System and the planet of Edede. Arck could tell that Grey was filled with anticipation, and the planet was a swirl of white, and like Troan, it looked cold. Arck looked over at Tilly Croft and strapped himself in between Sevinn and Kryce. In five months since the destruction of Authority, Arck had read everything he could find about Edede. There were no Lethewood trees on the planet, so important to the Ariste’s society on Stolern, and there was no great variety of life–no tropical areas. However, the gravity and atmosphere came close to the Centrite standard.

When they landed, Arck and Sevinn walked out into the bright crisp day. They were off from the ceptorpads, directly on the Estragate Glacial Flow. It was quite cold, but not enough to take your breath away. Their position was south of Burydane and northwest of Hynhanti Mountains and the Laccmere Keeps where a small population of Mauller Druids lived.

Don’t be disappointed already, Sevinn, he whispered, noticing her somber expression. It should be warmer than this in Burydane. At least the gravity is light.

He knew she hadn’t been happy to come and the presciental had something to do with it. Presages had started to play a large part in his destiny. They walked hand in hand up an incline behind Grey. It felt about ten degrees below standard. Before them, stood a golden monolithic superstructure, which they had seen from the onboard brettiscreens. It rose high into the sky, built, it seemed, of ice, metal, and other materials. With samascience, it acted as a dome, a border, and a gate. It was enormous and also housed apartments, homes, and businesses. He knew it also protected Burydane from the cold glacial winds from the North, and acted as an over-dome to Burydane. From the brettiscreen, it had seemed like a see-thru dune of white-purple swirls of ice and snow, but up closer, he could see it was like a gigantic golden-empurpled sphere of interconnected-blocks which housed many of the citizens of Burydane, but one so enormous that it dwarfed the Slayers’ Castle at Fallow Lake.

It’s so amazing, he said. Sevinn seemed less impressed, but he could see hundreds of Ariste-onlookers on the tiers, ledges, and balconies which overlooked lush courtyards as they passed through it. They’ve come out to meet Grey.

The high icy structure was highest and most impressive where Arck and his company had entered from the south. They stopped to study it. The surface of the structure from the inside was made of glowing light purple and crimson translucent shades, and it was sheer, and fresh silver streams of water flowed from the superstructure or fell in some places in cascades into ponds, or in other places into gigantic icicles which became the center of huge rinks of ice. Arck undid his top buttons. The temperature inside was warmer, at least twenty degrees more than on the plain. He saw that the massive flowering-bushes and woodlands were wonderfully landscaped. Many of them grew abundantly on small or larger ledges and even on crannies in the sheer walls of ice.

How do they do that? Sevinn asked.

It is the use of a verdi-device which directs the water at a sub-molecular level.

He glanced over at Tilly and Kryce but they were lost in the wonder of it. Tilly’s pale stern face reminded Arck of an aesthetic-warrior and Kryce’s incongruent eyes and hooked nose prompting the image in his mind of an undefeated alien creature. Another thing great about Burydane was that for a thriving city, it was quiet. He also had the impression that mind-melding was a way of life. It was as though an arcane or psychic-world surrounded him. Grey came up.

I wish to show them FlowerWorld, she said.

Arck nodded. Using the Tajacoupler, his mind floated lightly into DreamWorld. The flowers came to life above him, below him, and all around. It was like being mentally naked in public and the Druids were able to see his power. However, he felt exposed, as though Dread were among them. He panicked and used the TajaCoupler to disengage from Grey.

That is enough for now, he said. Something feels wrong about it.

He went to his living-quarters with Sevinn. A large blue bed sat in the corner of the room which was a light shade of argent and held his bags. Blue blooms grew from red vases by a large planted pot in a brightly light corner, yet no light seemed to shine there, yet nonetheless, there was brightness. He rose and approached it and it disappeared. It was an illusion and he thought it clever. Sevinn unpacked and left to see more of Burydane. He opened the back door and stepped out into a low hall to a wide gateway which ended in a covered bridge which in turn led, he could see, back to the greater courtyard of The Golden Burydane Dome.

From here, he had a perfect view of the gigantic metal and ice works he had first seen on arriving. Two of the walls of ice ran a distance of three hundred paces. Essentially, it rose straight up in a vertical cliff of colorful rock. The two joined walls abutting it were lower and less inclined. In one area to his right, there stood a hundred golden globes which were half of his height and had a scattered arrangement in a small depression of ground-ice. The ground held an arrangement of bricked pathways and perfectly trimmed trees. This close, he could see that they were huts, huts which at least on the outside, glowed. The effect of the entire depression or miniature valley gave an optical illusion of a flowing effect of golden peaceful sunlight. Staring up from this angle, he saw the far hazy reaches of the roof of the Palace of Burydane. The enormous skylights and the gigantic rafters, all hidden before, could now be made out in a dome-shape.

Outside in the golden light, it was cooler than in the halls, but he detoured off the main walkway and jumped over a small fence with runes which he didn’t bother to read. He strove through the chips of stone of the pathways which seemed soft and golden beneath his shoes and soon he was among the huts. Everything he could see was shockingly clean. He approached a hut, and even though in the distance they had appeared transparent, he could not see inside. He touched the small structure and the glow increased. He did not know what he would do if an Ariste family was inside, but he knew how to speak Tore and Pallish, their difficult languages. He figured he would somehow manage.

He tried to stare inside and was abruptly struck from the side by a large Ariste male who drove him unceremoniously to the ground from a running jump. They tumbled for several rolls. Arck jumped out of the male grip and threw himself back stumbling to the ground. A short groan of fear escaped his lips. He feared he was being attacked by Dread. However, it wasn’t Blacleft, that was obvious. This male had a grossly-protruded jaw exaggerated by his abnormally oblong head. Arck was bleeding from the forehead and prepared to burst into blue actiniform.

From a good distance away, he felt Grey rushing toward him. He looked at his hand. It was covered in blood. The mad Ariste had hesitated for a second, but now leapt at him again, his agape jaws ready to clamp. Arck sprang back, but wasn’t quick enough, the razor incisor-teeth cut into his neck and Arck exploded into blue smalt electricity. The mad Ariste shrieked with horrible mewls and was thrown back. A great tidal wave of elemental force grew on Arck’s horizons. The Overseer was now ever vigilant. The thinking-cosmic-tidal-wave came from a great distance, but it moved swiftly toward him. He withdrew from the disc and the wave disappeared, and before him, stood Grey at the fenced-border. Arck felt Aristes coming from every hue and cry of Burydane, as though to see a scandal.

Step back at once, Arck, Grey ordered, you are in the graveyard of Burydane. To come inside the fence without sanction is profane. This you know! What is wrong with you? How could you forget?

As he backed out to the fenced-border, the veil of ignorance in his mind lifted and he remembered. Good God! he said to himself, feeling the repugnance of his own act.

To step a foot on this spot was an insult to the Aristes. He’d completely forgotten. For a moment he wondered if the Burydane Aristes might seek retribution.

What will they do, Grey? he whispered. Tell them that I think someone tampered with my volscyl-memory.

You were forbidden to use the Taja.

I can no longer safely use it anyway, the Overseer zoomed in on me as fast as I could withdraw. I was afraid that the mad Ariste was using wulterkyl or some assassin’s trick or that he was even Dread himself.

He isn’t mad. He’s an Emmerguard. Didn’t you see the symbol?

Arck nodded. He saw that no other Ariste yet approached.

Did I hurt him?

Grey drew closer, licking Arck’s cuts so that they stopped bleeding.

I’ll merit that he is short a few whiskers, she mindsaid. Arck smiled sadly. If the Beginning One ever learns of Burydane, she continued, mindspeaking still, all my brethren will turn against you, and me. Under no circumstance use it again!

I could give it to you to keep.

I think that would be unwise, and besides, I have faith in you.

I really thought he was trying to kill me.

He is a ceremonial Emmerguard. Burydane’s Aristes know little of violence, but you can’t show them any disrespect, from the smallest to the largest, from the youngest to the oldest, they will thrash you without aforethought of the consequences. Aristes are proud, and all other vices before that one sole thing, are like virtue in comparison. Walk then in Burydane as you would over a lake in late winter.

I’m sorry, Grey.

A long silence followed and Arck looked out at the golden huts. He genuinely wondered what had tricked his mind and why. They walked together away from the graveyard. On the other side of the Burydane Dome, he saw that a group of young male Aristes were pacing in a particular way in a wide circle. Three individual Aristes raced around the circle with great speed. For some reason a hole was suddenly created by a single Ariste who darted into the race around the circle, then, it would be filled by one of the three.

What is it?

Esteral-costelle Grey mindsaid. It’s a Hunter game. There’s three-teams, and it is, like many Ariste games, a race. There’s a system of signaling, of tagging by touch and decoying.

The Ariste who had attacked him stepped forward from behind, and came around to face them. Arck now noticed two symbols on him. One showed that he was a single Hunter male, a Black, and the other that he was a high-ranking Emmerguard. He truly had a protruded jaw exaggerated by his oblong head.

No Freeguard has ever before set a foot on Edede before today, he said in a dialect of Tore called Ice-Pallish. Some Druids say, ‘They are, each one in their hearts, a spy for Authority.’ But alas, Authority is no more. I am Broadfoot of the Emmerguard who works for the High Ariste Druids. Accept my deepest apology, Milord.

At this, many of Broadfoot’s compatriots stepped up. Arck noticed that many nodded or bowed with deference in Grey’s direction as they approached.

They do not call me Lord, Broadfoot, he said softly. It is a bad augur. I am just Arck.

Never did we hope to host you and your friends, Broadfoot said. One day, when I tell the cubs about it, they will laugh and say under their breaths, ‘The mad old dot, too long he chased the females across Knitfur Plain, and too many times they took him up the Hipparch Tree.'

Arck laughed. Where is Knitfur Plain?

Not far north of the city.

Will you tell all your friends, Broadfoot, that I am a distracted person? He spoke so that all in the immediate vicinity could hear him. I would never knowingly show disrespect for the Aristes or anything which is cherished by them. Tell them that my mind played a funny trick on me today and that I apologize to each and every one of them.

That night, in the large Dule’s Hall inside the Dome of Burydane, Arck was presented along with his Company, to the Grand Dule, Gryt Haath, the elected leader of Burydane, and many claimed, of all Aristes. She was small for an Ariste Druid, only slightly larger than a male. Like Grey she had unrestrained black eyes but had reddish-brown fur instead of gray. She reminded Arck more of a younger version of Ripen Myrh, the captain of LotusEater. She stood on a landing which was the fulcrum of the whole enterprise. She bowed in an Ariste-fashion, and with some formality toward Arck, Grey, and their entourage of Tutans and Hittiteans when they arrived. Arck could see that Tilly showed some aloofness toward them and was reminded of the tribal animosity between Tutan and Ariste. The Freeguard warriors showed wonder at it all, well, maybe not Deng, but certainly Kryce’s stō. Griss Gra ’s sere facial features for a moment alighted, making her look almost normal, although her tall striking presence, especially with her long green hair pulled tightly back and almost glowing, made this nearly impossible.

The hall’s most impressive attribute was the cliff-high ceiling made of some substance which looked like ice and white quartz. The hall had many levels to hold its onlookers, and in each landing there were hepplechairs and sofas gathered around low-lying tables.

Fountains, tint-mists, water flows, and silver streams collected in spots and fell to the next level. The high ceiling was obscured by spray and fog, but downward through successive terraces and landings, everything was hooked in a circuit of polished stairways. Myriad plants as though poured out from clay pots hanging on walls like it was the rich black earth itself. All points, pillars, plants, and plateaus did their best to defy a sense of gravity.

That was its point, Arck realized. It was supposed to give a sense of defiance. He realized that he was expected to say something and he did indeed have a message to give to the assemblage. He stepped to the dais at the foot of the stage and simply bowed. He noticed to the sides that many female Aristes who were without druid symbols or signets had gathered in good numbers. Like the general population, they far outnumbered the males.

He could see that some were weighted down with large marsupial pouches, and dressed with a single robe of felt. These were Deccacats or professional cub carriers. Most of the Aristes in the hall were unseated, except the largest Deccacats. They had special places below the dais and their robes were clasped with a golden chain with a buckle of pure vermeil in the shape of the Dome. He could see that some Deccacats were heavy with pregnancy and had full breasts of milk, but he saw no cubs anywhere.

Welcome to Burydane, came a voice from behind him. It was the Grand Dule. You are now the leader of all the established rebel groups, she said in her fine soft voice. I’m one of few surviving founding members of life on Edede. I led the fight against a Hunter’s plebiscite to deny you and Grey access to Purze. The Greyrune Druid, and the High Maullers at the Laccmere Keep of Hynhanti Mountain, south of us, plan for you to remain many years on Edede.

She stepped over to Arck and gave him several verdi-plate books, then, Grey joined him on the dais and sang aloud with words,

"I stand before you charged and unafraid,

Not the future nor past years,

Neither by its wrath nor its fears,

Has conquered my soul, nor myself, remade.

It matters, not the horrors of chance,

Nor of the gods who harvest with hate.

Neither would detour a delicate dance with its oncoming fate!

Not punishment, nor either, shades of circumstance.

But, I stand with him who also stands,

Unconquered from bone to bone,

From blackest dangers in land after land.

I stand before you, but, not alone!"

Grey bowed her head and there followed a certain high-pitched mewling-buzz around the hall, which was a particular kind of respect and applause. Arck could see the Aristes were impressed, but he realized that for his Company, who would never understand this complicated and difficult language, all was lost. Little interpreting equipment was available and what there was, he had been told, was quite inadequate. How he felt himself about the dirge, or whatever it was that Grey had recited, he couldn’t have said. If Arck was a supreme ruler of his own soul, then certainly Grey was at least the master of his destiny.

Arck, Grey mindsaid, It is your turn to speak now.

He looked out on the Aristes and smiled. I left all my friends behind to come here, he said. Of those I miss, I especially miss my brother Tob, who is with Taff Hart. At the mention of Taff’s name, there were some unfriendly murmurs, a sort of low-auditory booing. My family was destroyed by Dread, he continued. I guess you know that. Here again he was interrupted, but this time by howls and roars of displeasure at the name of Dread. I let him slip through my fingers at Barkel Mountain. The next time I meet Dread, he must die, but that isn’t what I was going to say. I miss my brother, Tob, and I hope that the Aristes at Burydane will become like a brother to me.

He bowed slightly, and left the dais. For the second time that day, he saw the fierce-looking Deng Frest, the Freeguard who seemed from the first day of his escape off Troan to be always close by, staring at him, following him, and guarding him. In this pleasant light, her blond hair was like gold.

Arck, Kryce called, taking his attention from Deng and calling him to the back of the hall. Kryce was eating supper with his green-haired stō, Griss Gra. They were talking about a CentreRule decision to increase the levies on its member-planets. Grab some food from Jissy and join us, Kryce added and nodded to Griss in such a manner as to end the conversation.

I’m not hungry, he said and sat across from the Wizard and looked across the hall at Jissy whom everyone in Kryce’s train now called the Matron – she behaved as a mother to so many.

Griss rose, gave Arck a Menatt-styled lightening-quick bow, and left with one of Kryce’s long serving staff and top administrators. Arck could see Griss’ samawyre clearly in this light–she wore it intertwined with her long hair, a weapon for hand-to-hand fighting. Though she was almost as ferocious-looking as Ruby Obiss, she was much younger and minus the facial scars, but like Taff’s stō, her partner was also female, or at least Arck had heard that her lover was Solleen Laper, a pretty Freeguard warrior here on Edede with them. Solleen was to Arck’s eyes, gorgeous looking, and it wasn’t just Arck who thought so either; he often saw the other Freeguard warriors eyeing her. In that regard Griss and Solleen were like Ruby and Adolphine, the rough and the smooth, but if this were just coincidence or meant something more, volscyl knowledge didn’t give him the answer, however, he’d heard from Grey that the stōs traded training in war of younger men or woman for an intimate relationship.

Grey’s poem was beautiful, the Wizard said.

Not many of the Freeguard understood it.

I will have it translated and passed among us, Arck.

He smiled, but said nothing further on the poem, or whatever it was. How is Maye?

Fine.

Do you want to know what Grey said of her? Kryce nodded. Maye hears a ditty now instead of a symphony.

She is recovering. What does Grey expect? Anyway, what do you think of Burydane so far?

The Dome puts even the Slayer’s Palace City in the Black Desert at Airange to shame.

Together, they rose and walked over to Jissy who was busy with serving food to the Freeguard with Dol’s help. Dol Dell, who everyone called the Chef, was Jissy’s longtime mate, yet both were now also Arck’s personal SelmaKeatra bodyguards.

An especially short Freeguard, and one who could almost pass for a young Tutan and often mimicked them, making fun of their dour mannerisms, gave Arck a Menatt-style lightening quick bow and left with his plate of hot food. Arck saw that it was catching on fast. A ground-operations officer from Taff’s crew did likewise. Arck wondered if Kryce had ordered the Freeguard to give this bow and wondered further if he should object to it. However, if he stopped the bow, wouldn’t it manifest itself in another gesture?

You haven’t eaten a thing yet, Jissy said crossly to Arck and passed him a plate with hot food on it. He took it and the wizard and he stepped out of everyone’s earshot.

On the Harrower’s pulsar ship, Arck said, I spent a great many hours with a beautiful Chriso Warrior, Baltily. She was a skilled Grey-Spurl and a hard-nosed teacher, and with me, she was demanding. In months I was able to put the Chrisarmain war tactics I have from volscyl into action. I used the baliwax sword, the Ninjus hand-to-hand, and soke firearms. I learned the noloyd and annujet from you, Kryce so, I learned quickly from her. Tell me, if you would. Is this Freeguard Warrior, Deng Frest, as good a fighter as they claim?

Kryce laughed. She pesters you for romance, Arck, not to fight.

After eating little, Arck rose with Kryce and walked into a short hallway which led into the open interior of Burydane. Kryce was obviously considering Arck’s request and what it meant. Before they hit the exit, they turned again passing through a narrow exit which went to the common-rooms beside the kitchens of the Dome.

I can see no trouble with it, if she’ll behave, Kryce said. We will let Tilly stand in on the lessons? Arck nodded. Well then, he said, get your wrent sword charged. I will arrange for it. Maybe tomorrow.

Good.

She will try to take a few notches off your belt. She’s a fierce stunning-looking one, and of course she is one of Taff’s Wild Ones, so she’ll want to bed with you, but be careful on that score. You don’t dare do it or she will tear you and Sevinn apart. Taff’s savages boast openly about their conquests. I never understood why Taff, Tilly, and Ruby tolerate it. In Syte’s camp, it might get you the public whip, and in mine and Cler’s, it would get you tossed out on your ear.

Arck wondered if Taff had slept with Deng Frest. They allow it so that there isn’t so much attachment in the younger warriors.

Perhaps you don’t know that Deng has hidden Bewa techniques, he said, ignoring Arck’s defense of Taff’s regime, She’s one of Taff’s most undisciplined but accomplished warriors, maybe she is even a Bewa-Witch.

That would be just like Taff.

I’m only saying. She’ll try to bewitch you.

She already has.

Chapter 2

Nothing moves with aimless motion. One life ended is another yet arisen. All forgotten faces smile with the worms, not quite fruitless, not quite great. Naked and alone, we stand before our doom, but Tob did not know this. Coldfire’s sudden flight from Turkle, Cyno, while exchanging the Heart Harrower for Tilly Croft and Maye Stynn was a feint. Tob had watched from a midway brettiscreen-portal and when he realized they were leaving the Proudhon and the others, he went sadly to Taff, but the Wizard had soon shown him that this was wizard and druid intrigue and that his brother was quite safe. That was some months ago. Tob knew sometime within the year, he might change names and become an official Freeguard trooper under Taff’s Command, and in this, the fulfillment of one of his dreams was unfolding.

He had read Zora Wing’s, In a Free Rule, and The Silver Sky Sweeps By, and the words were clear and concise. No convoluted logic undermined Tob’s wrangling love of life nor his beautiful and simple picture of romance. He was an ideal in youth who needed only ideas to sustain its image. In this, although he did not know it, Taff placed him securely in his influence and overthrew what could have been a flaw: Tob’s inability to understand how a dream of youth is sustained through life by a philosophy of motivation.

As for Taff, they say that no tear falls in vain, though one shouldn’t often cry. From time to time, Taff thought that Tob’s abilities were not large enough for his ambitions and loneliness did plague him, although there were three Kiji Wizards with him, and the Wizard Fain Back, as well as the powerful Ariste Druid, Saand Greyrune, the two stōs, the frightful-looking Ruby Obiss and the rake-thin freakishly-tall Holin Able, thirteen Flowerholders, three Mij Maullers, remnants of Kryce’s army, which with his own, numbered almost two hundred thousand fighters, assorted Grey and Black Guild Warriors, and his two powerful friends, Coldfire and Lord Hornblende. So though, perhaps not happy, then Tob was at least busy, which by all Ariste’s accounts, is the same thing. Taff looked up with a warm smile when one day Tob appeared unannounced at his office. He could see that he was alert and dressed impeccably in his Freeguard-uniform of gold and black with Taff’s two insignias: a naked female and male Hittitean, facing each other with their arms reaching upward into the air, and the sunny