3. Kultaveri

The tram ride was short, and before she could even think about it, she was standing in front of Tavastia. She looked up to the old brick facade of the live club. Apparently, it was one of the oldest and also most famous clubs in Europe. Quite a thing to rent this place for a birthday party. Or in other words: Jyrki either had the connections or was richer than she thought he was. Nevertheless, she was excited to finally visit this legendary place. Trying to look confident she pushed open the door and entered the club … only to bump into a tall figure that made its way outside the building. What a great start to the evening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you”, she winced. She glanced up to his face, only to wince again. It was Jyrki. Of course, it had to be Jyrki. He really must think she was an idiot. “No worries, it is not like you could hurt me”, he said with a slight smile, eyeing the wrapped package in her hands. Calm down, she said to herself. Behave like you’re an adult and not an imbecile child.

She forced a smile onto her face. “Happy Birthday!”, she said, handing him the book-formed package she bought the day before. Jyrki visited the book-club. He had to like her present. At least that was what she hoped for. He smiled again softly, then took the present and greeted her with a short hug. “Thank you”. He placed one hand on her shoulder then. “I think you have not met my friends yet. Come on, I told them you would drop by today.” His hand still on her shoulder he guided her inside. It was pitch-black inside the club, and even though it hadn’t been exactly bright outside her eyes needed some time to adjust to the sudden darkness. “Sorry, I did not think of that beforehand”, he mumbled. “The others are in the side room, it is brighter there.” She blindly followed his guiding hand, having no idea why it was so dark inside the club and where they were heading.

Then she heard a door opening and could see at least a little bit. They were entering a small room that looked like a backstage area, where four guys and one girl where scrambled onto two small and wrecked sofas. She only had the time to shot one quick glance around the room when Jyrki started to introduce the five of them. “These are Juho and his girlfriend Suvi”, he started, pointing at a youth with a wild mop of blonde hair and a girl whose red curls where similarly tousled. “And these are Pasi,” – a young man with long black hair – “Pekka,” – also black hair, but styled into a Mohawk, “and Vilho”, a bulky youth wearing a black bandana. She knew Vilho meant something like “defender” and that guy seemed to be the defender of the group. He eyed her figure with furrowed brows, his gaze slowly wandering over her body. It was an understatement to say that she felt uneasy. Vilho’s disparaging gaze seemed to examine her whole self, she felt like he could look deep into her and under her skin. “Well”, he said, looking up to Jyrki with a slight smile. “You didn’t tell us your new mysterious friend is one of the kultaveri.”

That word – kultaveri – it had a strange ring to it. She did know what it meant, at least language wise. It translated to something like “godblood” in the English language. But she had no idea what it stood for. What she knew for sure was that she just stumbled into something she was always warned of. Why didn’t she listen to her mother, at least for one?