R
It wasn’t the right season for remembering the dead. There was no snow on the ground, nor ice hanging from the branches, dry leaves still clinging in their place. It’s the season of endings, of gathering life close and tucking it away before the enforced sleep of the cold months. Harvests are being brought in, barns prepared for the long housing and feeding of beasts, wood and supplies being stock-piled so that people could survive without having to track outdoors too often.
Of course, like everything else on Caido, the preparations often came with twists Rance wouldn’t have anticipated. Walls of houses weren’t just patched to keep out the chill, they were re-enforced to keep out something much stronger than a stiff breeze. And while he hasn’t seen anyone boarding up windows, yet, as the Festival of Lights approached, whispers were becoming action. Snow and ice weren’t the only concerns come winter – come Deepfrost.
As some began to prepare for the physical dangers ahead, many more were preparing for the time of remembrance and celebration that truly marked the season still in progress. Even from his outside perspective, it was hard to miss the talk of lanterns and the Festival, not only the major one being held in Torchline, but the small, personal gatherings people were holding with friends and family. As strange as it felt to be honoring the dead with no snow on the ground, Rance found himself preparing to join in as well. He made lanterns with varying success, talked about the past, about the world he’d left behind.
But, for one night… he wanted to remember in his way, too.
Sitting atop the flattest roof he’d been able to find, he wedged a stumpy candle against the chimney. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as a true memory candle would be. There were no words painted on it to honor the Ghost Queen, nor was it scented with traditional spices, but it was bright blue. His sister’s favorite color.
He lit the candle with flint from the small pouch he’d been able to carry in raven form and sat properly beside the candle, arms wrapped around his knees. Leaning back against the chimney, he looked up at unfamiliar stars. May the Queen keep you, little sister. I hope you’ll find only joy in her kingdom.
“At least one of us should,” he murmured into the night, voice rough. His chest ached and he knew, this time, it wasn’t just for Morgana. It was for himself, for what he’d lost by falling through a portal. His friends, family, gods, traditions….
He tried to keep his thoughts on his sister, to remember her, but it was hard when he was alone. He hugged his knees a little tighter and breathed.
Of course, like everything else on Caido, the preparations often came with twists Rance wouldn’t have anticipated. Walls of houses weren’t just patched to keep out the chill, they were re-enforced to keep out something much stronger than a stiff breeze. And while he hasn’t seen anyone boarding up windows, yet, as the Festival of Lights approached, whispers were becoming action. Snow and ice weren’t the only concerns come winter – come Deepfrost.
As some began to prepare for the physical dangers ahead, many more were preparing for the time of remembrance and celebration that truly marked the season still in progress. Even from his outside perspective, it was hard to miss the talk of lanterns and the Festival, not only the major one being held in Torchline, but the small, personal gatherings people were holding with friends and family. As strange as it felt to be honoring the dead with no snow on the ground, Rance found himself preparing to join in as well. He made lanterns with varying success, talked about the past, about the world he’d left behind.
But, for one night… he wanted to remember in his way, too.
Sitting atop the flattest roof he’d been able to find, he wedged a stumpy candle against the chimney. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as a true memory candle would be. There were no words painted on it to honor the Ghost Queen, nor was it scented with traditional spices, but it was bright blue. His sister’s favorite color.
He lit the candle with flint from the small pouch he’d been able to carry in raven form and sat properly beside the candle, arms wrapped around his knees. Leaning back against the chimney, he looked up at unfamiliar stars. May the Queen keep you, little sister. I hope you’ll find only joy in her kingdom.
“At least one of us should,” he murmured into the night, voice rough. His chest ached and he knew, this time, it wasn’t just for Morgana. It was for himself, for what he’d lost by falling through a portal. His friends, family, gods, traditions….
He tried to keep his thoughts on his sister, to remember her, but it was hard when he was alone. He hugged his knees a little tighter and breathed.
