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“Are you ready, Varian? You don’t want to be late for your first viewing of the lanterns.” Quirin stuck his head into his young son’s room, which currently resembled more of a laboratory than a child’s sleeping chamber. Squatting on the middle of the floor was a small seven-year-old boy, freckled face scrunched in determination as he fiddled with some scraps of metal. His shaggy black hair kept getting in his eyes, and he had resorted to pinning the long forelock back with pins Quirin suspected had been pilfered from his late wife’s old dresser.
“Yeah, Dad, I just wanted to finish these.” Varian held up the pieces of metal for inspection, and pulled two long wooden poles from under his bed, (where did the boy find this stuff?) fastening the pieces onto the beams.
“And what are those?” Quirin asked, eyeing the invention skeptically.
“They’re leg-extenders! To help us see the lanterns better above the crowds!” Varian explained enthusiastically. “Here, watch.” To demonstrate, he set the poles vertically, swaying and wobbling as he stepped onto the metal platforms. The four-foot, five-inch boy was now close to seven feet tall.
Quirin’s lips thinned. “Varian, that doesn’t look safe.”
“Sure it is, just wat-“ Varian’s self-assured statement was cut short as he attempted to walk on his leg-extenders, and promptly crashed in a tangle of arms and wood.
Quirin rushed to his son’s side, who brushed off the experiment’s failure with a shaky laugh and a shrug. “That’s alright, Dad, the density of the wood clearly couldn’t stand the pressure curvature anyways. I’ll make another one later.” He hopped off the floor, pulling a mildly amused and confused Quirin to his feet.
“C’mon, Dad, we don’t want to be late for the lanterns!”
While visits to the Island by the people of Old Corona were infrequent affairs, there was one day of the year that every villager traveled the many miles to be at the royal palace.
“Tell me again about the Lost Princess, Dad.” Varian begged from his spot on Quirin’s shoulders, where he’d been seated some miles back, Quirin’s fatherly concern overriding Varian’s protests that he was old enough to walk all the way to the Island. Varian secretly didn’t mind, it reminded him of the days when he was a little kid of four years old. Quirin would race around the cottage with him on his back, making horse noises while he’d happily bounce along.
“You’ve heard the tale many times, Varian.” Quirin hummed, the stern words betrayed by the warmth in his voice.
“I know, but can you tell it again?” Varian loved hearing about the Lost Princess, he would spend hours wondering how he might someday help find her, where she might be, and what she was like. He had pleaded for Quirin to take him to see the lanterns years ago, but his father had thought the trip too strenuous, promising to take him when he turned seven.
Varian leaned over Quirin’s head, attempting to look his father in the eyes without falling off. “Pleeeaaase?”
Quirin chuckled despite himself, adjusting his grip on Varian’s legs as the shining towers of the palace came into view. “Very well.”
Varian could hardly contain his excitement. Everything was bright and colorful, the streets full of vendors hawking souvenirs, and the bustling crowds were everywhere! Purple streamers crisscrossed the streets, and he heard lively fiddle music nearby. He stared in wide-eyed curiosity and fascination as he watched a small girl and her mother buy a paper lantern from a shop across the street. He longed to have one himself, and carefully dismantle it so as to figure out its scientific workings, but he knew better than to ask. It didn’t take a prodigy to realize money was not an abundant resource in Old Corona. So he turned from the lantern shop with a slight sigh and followed Quirin up the cobbled lane.
The day flew by in a happy blur of colors and sounds. Dusk was rapidly falling, and Varian’s feet were starting to ache a bit, but he refused to complain, slipping his hand into Quirin’s giant one as they headed to the higher levels of the city. Even though he had reached the ripe age of seven, he still wasn’t quite ready to let go of childish habits like hand-holding.
Quirin glanced down at the touch of the small hand, concern starting to form between his eyebrows, but the expression quickly vanished at the loving and contented look in the bright blue eyes gazing up at him. A lump rose unbidden in his throat, and he managed a small smile at his son. Those eyes, so like another pair he would spend hours gazing into…
The press of the crowd before him restored him to reality, and Quirin blinked a little as he surveyed the area around them. They were in front of the palace gates, and with a little maneuvering, one could just barely view the balcony from where the King and Queen released the royal lantern. “We’re here.” He remarked, bending down so Varian could climb on his shoulders again.
Varian sucked in an breath, anticipation and adrenaline flooding his veins. He gawked at the richness of the palace before him, and stared at the uniformed guards, wondering if their armor was made with a gold and iron alloy or a gold and brass one. Brass is the better choice, yes it doesn’t look as nice, but its tensile strength is substantially more significant. Maybe I could show them a sample of my magnesium and aluminum alloy…
He felt a tapping on his leg as Quirin endeavored to regain his attention, holding aloft a small paper lantern. “I thought you might want to send off your own lantern for your first time.” He explained, craning his head to see Varian’s face.
“Really? Dad… Thank you!” Varian gasped in delight, giving Quirin’s neck a vigorous hug before carefully taking the delicate paper creation. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank y-“
“Save your breath, son.” The man laughed. “They’ll be releasing the lanterns shortly.”
Varian closed his mouth, but his mind raced with elation. Simple really, but quite ingenious, using a small flame to heat the surrounding air and create lift, until the lift exceeds the weight of the wood frame.
“Of course,” he mumbled to himself, lifting the lantern and examining its underside in the faint lighting. “Warmer air has a lower density, causing the air flow to be ideal for creating upward momentum.” He would have continued in his monologue, but the swell of excited whispers as the King and Queen appeared drew him from his scientific musings.
Quietly, reverently, the sovereign rulers of Corona lighted the large lantern that bore the royal sigil, and together they lifted the light into the air. The lantern rapidly climbed, shining like a proud beacon amidst the inky night sky.
At the signal, the thousands of people spread throughout the city and docks began to light their own lanterns, and soon flocks of glowing lights rose to join the royal one. Quirin handed Varian a match, and the budding scientist expertly struck it against his pant leg, lighting the small candle before gently pushing the lantern into the air. Father and son watched the magnificent display together, each suffused with a quiet happiness as the clouds of light cast a soft glow on the city.
Varian was completely enraptured, wanting to take in every second, every sight and every sound, and lock the precious memories away for eternity. The minutes passed, and the still the swarm of lanterns bobbed and twinkled in the sky.
Varian rested his cheek on his dad’s thick hair, eyes fixated on their little lantern that still bravely climbed upwards. Naturally, with the smaller diameter and lighter wood, the required pressure needed to overcome weight in order to obtain lift would be less, causing higher elevation. He thought drowsily, the warmth of Quirin’s body and the muted lighting acting like a lullaby to his senses. He stirred, giving Quirin’s neck a slight squeeze.
“Dad?” He asked, voice slurring with sleepiness.
“Yes, Varian?”
“I love you.”
Quirin felt Varian’s head droop again, and presently noises that sounded suspiciously like snoring began to issue forth from the esteemed young scientist. Quirin chuckled quietly, gingerly shifting the small boy from his shoulders into his arms. “I love you too, Varian,” He whispered, tracing the boy’s innocent and blissful expression with his eyes, and burning the memory into his brain. “More than you will ever know.”