The East PacificBoard

Although the residents of Penelope's Paradise are known to have a blasé attitude towards such displays, even they are unable to resist the Krionik's attraction. The crowd, originally only twenty five tourists, swells to one hundred and twenty five people within minutes. It continues to expand as the performance continues. After the second bow, the Kriosavak and Belskans receive a round of applause and cheers. The crowd parts to let the National Air Corps Honor Band step foot on the boardwalk. They follow the band and the signs to their next destination.

The now-empty pier bobbed with the waves, its aerogel interior unaffected by the sudden change in load. Like the vast majority of structures in Evrigenis, it was designed with durability and flexibility in mind. The venue, a wonder of the Daedalus' master engineering, is comprised of three tori of varying radii arranged to form Borromean rings. Their translucent green, red, and blue exteriors seem ethereal in the late afternoon sun. However, the building was real. It housed 50,000 square kilometers of offices, three restaurants and—most importantly—the nation's largest concert hall. Armonia Hall, located at the base of the Green Ring, was capable of seating over 2,000. And it would be host to the Krioniki musicians.

Inside the Green Ring, ushers welcome the musicians and show them backstage. They also shepherd the playgoers to to their respective seats. About 15 minutes later, the lights go down. The show is about to begin in earnest.

The first group to come out are the Belskans who pair off and spread to cover the stage equally. Behind them, the Air Corps band marches out onto the back of the stage, turning as one to face the crowd. As they do so, they give a quick bow to the crowd, which is then mirrored as each Belskan gives their partner a bow. With that, a single member of the Air Corps band steps forward as his comrades remain still and silent. Moving to a stool at the front edge of the stage, he gives the crowd another deep bow before taking a seat. With that, he pulls out his balalaika and begins strumming, the microphone broadcasting the music out over the crowd. The song starts out slow, and as he begins playing the Belskans begin moving, just as slowly as the music.

As the music slowly begins, the pairs give each other a final bow, and begin to circle around each other, pounding the bottoms of the spears upon the stage every third step. Then suddenly, the Belskans thrust their spears out towards their partners, missing the sides of their faces by barely an inch. Immediately thereafter, they slam their spears down again and kick their feet to the side, all the while continuing to strafe around a common center, directly opposite from their partners. As they finish their spin, they immediately thrust their spears out towards their partners again, once again barely avoiding impaling them. Spinning around in a circle again, albeit without the kicks this time, the member on the right side of each pair uses their momentum to swing the bladed end of the spear at their comrade, leaving it to rest on their shoulder, right next to the exposed throat.

Strafing in a complete circle, the right members remove their spear from their partners’ throats, and barely a second later the left members spin in their own circle, swinging the blade of the spear directly at the legs of the other member, which is deftly avoided as the right members leap back, all the while continuing to strafe and kick out their legs in the dance.

As this continues, the music slowly begins to pick up in speed, growing ever faster. As the music picks up, so to do the Belskans, their spears flying through the air ever faster. Continuing their dance, occasionally tossing their spears through the air to exchange with their partners, they continue to dance. As the music reaches a crescendo, the rest of the Air Corps Band joins in, their brass and percussion drowning out the lonely balalaika. By now, the Belskans are near constantly spinning, narrowly missing each other with their blades as their dance continues. Kicking out their legs and slamming their spears to the ground, they have established a mesmerizing rhythm. Finally, as the music reaches its fastest point, the Belskans Take a step back from each other, spinning their spears around as if they were mere batons in the hands of a marching band. Then, just as the music seems to reach a peak, the band slowly fades out, leaving just the balalaika strumming a constantly building string, until that too cuts out. As soon as it does, the Belskans toss their spears towards their partners, before catching them, thrusting them out one last time, and turning to face the audience, bowing for the final time.

SONG: https://youtu.be/qn06W-iBfkQ

This isn’t the dance, but it kinda shows what I meant by the foot movements just imagine this, but the two women are in armor, stabbing at each other with spears, and constantly strafing around a common center: https://youtu.be/PwS50EDcMGE