Chapter 403: Reunions and the Refusal of Pettiness
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The not-so-little crocodile had obviously taken well to Kybas’ concoctions. The last time Alex saw him he’d actually grown quite a bit, but now, he was at least another foot longer than at the summer games, and he was thick like a log, sleek and powerful. His scales were shiny and clean, and his gait was steady and strong as he strode along beside his goblin master.
A huge basket was strapped to his back with the scent of a buffet of mushroom dishes wafting from it.
“Hello!” Kybas carried a pot of what smelled like mushroom soup. “It’s been a while!”
“Yeah, man, how’ve you been?” Alex asked, looking up at the scaled, monstrous mask he had sitting on his forehead.
“Oh, I’ve been good! Very good!” the goblin grinned, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “Harmless has grown so much!It’s all been very good! He’ll be the biggest and strongest, in no time.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “I can see that. Is Salinger working you hard?”
“Nope.” Kybas nodded to Theresa and the others, then lifted his soup pot onto the table. He began untying the basket from Harmless’ back. “I mean, he does work me very hard, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
He leaned toward Alex and whispered. “Beats growing mushrooms by myself in a cave wondering when I’ll get caught.” He gave a little giggle.
“Yeah, no doubt.”
“Kybas!” Grimloch flashed his many-fanged grin at the goblin. “How’s hunting been?”
“Good!” He grinned back wickedly. “Harmless is learning well. If he keeps it up, he’ll be killing sea serpents soon!”
“Oh, sea serpents are the best eating! You’ve gotta try some,” Grimloch growled. “I’ll take you hunting and we can boil up whatever we catch together. But Harmless can have his raw if he’d like it better that way.”
“Ooo! Ooo! That sounds fun and delicious!” the goblin’s voice rose. “Maybe I’ll take you to my home one day: there’s big lizards there, and their meat’s tough, but so, so juicy! Can’t get any of that here.”
Grimloch laughed. “Yeah, they got everything here except the best meats.”
“I know!”
Alex—and the rest of the group—gaped at Grimloch. He’d only seen the shark man that animated once before...and that was also when he’d been with Kybas. Was the world ending? Was the sky about to drop on them?
“He gets like that around Kybas,” Nua-Oge confirmed quietly from somewhere behind Alex. “It’s great. So glad my baby brother made such a good friend. They really seem to understand each other!”
“Y-es…” Prince Khalik muttered somewhat awkwardly. “It’s uncanny. They…most definitely seem to understand each other.”
‘A match made in the hells themselves,’ Alex thought. ‘I don’t want to be anywhere near either of those guys when they go hunting together. Maybe—’
“Shiani!” Selina suddenly cried. “Hey! Heeeeey!”
Alex looked up to see Shiani, Malcolm, Eyvinder and Rhea coming toward them along the beach. Caramiyus and Angelar were just behind, their doberman-like faces covered by werewolf masks.
Shiani was wearing a phoenix mask, but he could see her body language open up as soon as she saw Selina. “Hi Selina, it’s been awhile,” she called excitedly. “You’re so much taller than last time we saw each other!”
“It’s been way too long,” the young girl smiled, taking one of Shiani’s fish dishes from her. A very spicy scent drifted from it. “I had this idea I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Alex said. “Let’s let them get settled first before we start an inquisition here.”
“Oh, it’s alright, I haven’t seen Selina for a long time!” Shiani laughed. “You need to lighten up, Alex.”
“Yeah, what she said, don’t be so grumpy and mean, ugh.” Selina put her hands on her hips.
“What?” Alex cried incredulously, spreading his hands. “I’m just trying to make sure my little sister isn’t rude! How does that make me the bad guy?”
But Selina had already turned back to Shiani and was chatting away like Alex wasn’t there. “I wanted to talk to you about heat, and how it moves—” She started.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Rhea said, the tall elf putting her dish down and smiling warmly. “Shiani was pretty excited about catching up with her.”
“And the rest of you were a good consolation prize,” Malcolm added, sliding a tray of layered sandwiches and frozen juice cubes onto the table.
“Judging by how excited she is, it would seem that the rest of us are a consolation prize for Selina as well,” Isolde smiled.
Alex sighed, staring up at the heavens. “You hear that, mother and father? Your daughter thinks her own brother and all her friends are consolation prizes.” He laughed as Selina guided Shiani to her seat, shaking his head. “Well I guess that’s only natural, eh?” he whispered.
He watched his friends settling at the table and an old memory came back to him.
It would be a shame if the next Festival of Ghosts were to come around next year, where he would be one of the dead being honoured by his friends and family.
He remembered thinking along those lines just before the festival when he and Baelin talked about the hunt for the demon summoner. He’d sworn not to get involved in finding the dangerous maniac back then.
In the end, though, Leopold had pulled him—and everyone here—into it.
‘That’s the trouble with dangerous maniacs, demons and—’ He looked at Roal’s statue. ‘—they get others involved in their bullshit.’
Putting the thought away, he turned to take a seat but found Isolde staring at a table nearby. Well, she was trying to be discreet and make it look like she wasn’t staring but—even while she helped unpack Rhea’s incredibly aromatic curry—her eyes were focused on the other table. At first, Alex didn’t recognize its occupants—considering they weren’t wearing their characteristic [coloured] shirts—but he soon realised she was eyeing the Hydra Companions.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to any of them since the Games, and—
Wait.
His eyes searched beyond the Hydra Companions and rested on the true recipients of Isolde’s covert attention. There, in all of their glory, sat the Ursa-Lupine Brotherhood, and among them, the familiar redheaded figure of Derek. The young man looked…different.
Older, with a leaner, harder physique and more grace to his movements. His long red hair had been cut low and his eyes hung lower; he actually looked exhausted.
“Damn,” Alex whispered. “That’s quite the change. What happened to him?”
“Well,” Isolde said. “I have not thought much about Derek since the summer—”
A single glance at her body language revealed this as a lie. The young noblewoman’s face always went slightly blank when she lied.
“—and I do not really care much what happens to him—”
Another lie.
“—however, my friends have informed me that the demonic attack seemed to shake him.” Her lip twitched. “He entered third year trying even less than in our first year. But such behaviour does not lead to success in one’s third year. Not that I celebrate his inconvenience or anything like that.”
Another lie.
“So, he found himself on academic probation. Again. I understand he has to apply himself now…though he is rather bitter about the situation. In the end, I suppose the shaking from the summer did him some good.” She looked at Alex. “Not that it is any of my business, of course.”
“Of course,” Alex said, fighting to keep his face straight. He was the very last person who could criticise someone for taking joy in petty revenge.
There was the tinkle of a spoon ringing against a cup.
“Alright, everyone, it’s time to honour the departed,” Thundar said, looking around the table. He was wearing the mask of an antlered fae this year.
All things considered, his demon mask from last year’s festival would have been…in poor taste.
“I know I led things last Festival, but does anyone mind if I go again?” the minotaur asked. “Kinda feels like we started a tradition.”
There was a chorus of approval from the group.
“Alright, then,” he cleared his throat, falling into words similar to those he’d spoken at their first Festival of Ghosts. “With our masks on to frighten away ghosts of evil folk who might be called by our words, we keep those we’re honouring in our minds, and dedicate the food we eat to them. We take our masks off to finish our feasting by sunset. Then we’ll all go out together as a group so the dead don’t follow any of us ‘cos we’re alone. Everyone ready?”
Some nodded, some spoke up, and all sat taller and straighter in their seats. Alex noticed that the other tables were also preparing for their own ceremonies.
“Alright, bow your heads everyone,” the minotaur said. “Close your eyes and think about who you’re honouring with this meal.”
Alex bowed his head, closing his eyes beneath the same dragon mask he’d worn last year. He waited for Selina’s hand to slide into his like it did at last year’s ceremony…but it never came.
‘Guess they do grow up fast,’ he thought.
“Oh, honoured ancestors.” Thundar’s deep voice began. “Lost friends and family, fallen members of the herd: we think about you through the year, but during this feast, we bring you into the centre of our thoughts and dedicate this food to you. We eat for you so that—through us—you can taste mortal sustenance again. Please watch over us throughout the year, and please keep those on death’s plane who might harm us, away.”
He paused. “Please bring forward whoever you’re dedicating this feast to in your thoughts.”
Images of Alex’s mother and father came to his mind as they had last year. But now, they were joined by those who had fallen in the battle on Oreca’s Fall, and those who’d lost their lives during the fight in Crymlyn Swamp.
He shuddered.
‘How many more faces will join these next year?’
“Now, say aloud who you want to honour,” Thundar instructed.
“Mother and father,” Alex said quietly. “Those who fell in the Crymlyn. Those who died here.”
Murmuring spread around the table, but he only focused on Selina’s words:
“Father and mother,” his little sister said quietly. “Those who lost their lives against the demons. Those who lost their lives against the Ravener.”
“Let the dead from beyond join with the living in this feast,” Thundar pronounced. “And let our memories of them grow happier and stronger. Alright, let’s begin. All of you can open your eyes and take off your masks. And-Oh holy shit!”
Alex’s eyes opened and his gaze drifted skyward.
This year, he wasn’t surprised at what was coming, but he was amazed nonetheless.
Like last year, the early evening sky was filled with hundreds of glowing beings shining with silver light, drifting like scores of autumn leaves. Ghosts of the fallen: mortals, beasts and monsters. He heard a sigh of relief escape his own mouth: thankful that there were no demonic shapes floating above.
A choked cry reached him from a nearby table.
“Ed…ward!” a doe beast-woman pointed to the sky. “It’s my Edward!”
A wave of gasps travelled between tables as folk pointed, calling out the names of loved ones floating within the stream of spirits passing by. Alex watched the ghostly throng, then exhaled deep and low. He too was finding familiar forms within the multitude of spirits. They weren’t folks he knew by name, but he remembered them as opponents from the Grand Battle.
He also recognized those he’d seen lying broken and unmoving on the sand.
Slowly, he bent his head to pray for their safe passage…but realised he no longer knew who to pray to. Calling on Uldar seemed hollow, and the Traveller was the patron saint of his hometown, she wasn’t a goddess who could guide these souls who’d fallen in battle in a foreign land.
In the end, he offered his silent prayer to any god who would listen:
‘To any merciful deity who hears me, I ask you to guide these souls into their reward in the afterworld, as you see fit. May they rest in peace, and may their sacrifice in life give them what they need in death.’
As he listened to the whispered prayers of his friends and those at tables close by, a disturbing thought struck him.
‘Mourning mortals who’ve fallen is one thing,’ he thought. ‘But how do you mourn the loss of a god? Of a church? Of one’s entire faith?’
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The not-so-little crocodile had obviously taken well to Kybas’ concoctions. The last time Alex saw him he’d actually grown quite a bit, but now, he was at least another foot longer than at the summer games, and he was thick like a log, sleek and powerful. His scales were shiny and clean, and his gait was steady and strong as he strode along beside his goblin master.
A huge basket was strapped to his back with the scent of a buffet of mushroom dishes wafting from it.
“Hello!” Kybas carried a pot of what smelled like mushroom soup. “It’s been a while!”
“Yeah, man, how’ve you been?” Alex asked, looking up at the scaled, monstrous mask he had sitting on his forehead.
“Oh, I’ve been good! Very good!” the goblin grinned, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “Harmless has grown so much!It’s all been very good! He’ll be the biggest and strongest, in no time.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “I can see that. Is Salinger working you hard?”
“Nope.” Kybas nodded to Theresa and the others, then lifted his soup pot onto the table. He began untying the basket from Harmless’ back. “I mean, he does work me very hard, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
He leaned toward Alex and whispered. “Beats growing mushrooms by myself in a cave wondering when I’ll get caught.” He gave a little giggle.
“Yeah, no doubt.”
“Kybas!” Grimloch flashed his many-fanged grin at the goblin. “How’s hunting been?”
“Good!” He grinned back wickedly. “Harmless is learning well. If he keeps it up, he’ll be killing sea serpents soon!”
“Oh, sea serpents are the best eating! You’ve gotta try some,” Grimloch growled. “I’ll take you hunting and we can boil up whatever we catch together. But Harmless can have his raw if he’d like it better that way.”
“Ooo! Ooo! That sounds fun and delicious!” the goblin’s voice rose. “Maybe I’ll take you to my home one day: there’s big lizards there, and their meat’s tough, but so, so juicy! Can’t get any of that here.”
Grimloch laughed. “Yeah, they got everything here except the best meats.”
“I know!”
Alex—and the rest of the group—gaped at Grimloch. He’d only seen the shark man that animated once before...and that was also when he’d been with Kybas. Was the world ending? Was the sky about to drop on them?
“He gets like that around Kybas,” Nua-Oge confirmed quietly from somewhere behind Alex. “It’s great. So glad my baby brother made such a good friend. They really seem to understand each other!”
“Y-es…” Prince Khalik muttered somewhat awkwardly. “It’s uncanny. They…most definitely seem to understand each other.”
‘A match made in the hells themselves,’ Alex thought. ‘I don’t want to be anywhere near either of those guys when they go hunting together. Maybe—’
“Shiani!” Selina suddenly cried. “Hey! Heeeeey!”
Alex looked up to see Shiani, Malcolm, Eyvinder and Rhea coming toward them along the beach. Caramiyus and Angelar were just behind, their doberman-like faces covered by werewolf masks.
Shiani was wearing a phoenix mask, but he could see her body language open up as soon as she saw Selina. “Hi Selina, it’s been awhile,” she called excitedly. “You’re so much taller than last time we saw each other!”
“It’s been way too long,” the young girl smiled, taking one of Shiani’s fish dishes from her. A very spicy scent drifted from it. “I had this idea I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Alex said. “Let’s let them get settled first before we start an inquisition here.”
“Oh, it’s alright, I haven’t seen Selina for a long time!” Shiani laughed. “You need to lighten up, Alex.”
“Yeah, what she said, don’t be so grumpy and mean, ugh.” Selina put her hands on her hips.
“What?” Alex cried incredulously, spreading his hands. “I’m just trying to make sure my little sister isn’t rude! How does that make me the bad guy?”
But Selina had already turned back to Shiani and was chatting away like Alex wasn’t there. “I wanted to talk to you about heat, and how it moves—” She started.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Rhea said, the tall elf putting her dish down and smiling warmly. “Shiani was pretty excited about catching up with her.”
“And the rest of you were a good consolation prize,” Malcolm added, sliding a tray of layered sandwiches and frozen juice cubes onto the table.
“Judging by how excited she is, it would seem that the rest of us are a consolation prize for Selina as well,” Isolde smiled.
Alex sighed, staring up at the heavens. “You hear that, mother and father? Your daughter thinks her own brother and all her friends are consolation prizes.” He laughed as Selina guided Shiani to her seat, shaking his head. “Well I guess that’s only natural, eh?” he whispered.
He watched his friends settling at the table and an old memory came back to him.
It would be a shame if the next Festival of Ghosts were to come around next year, where he would be one of the dead being honoured by his friends and family.
He remembered thinking along those lines just before the festival when he and Baelin talked about the hunt for the demon summoner. He’d sworn not to get involved in finding the dangerous maniac back then.
In the end, though, Leopold had pulled him—and everyone here—into it.
‘That’s the trouble with dangerous maniacs, demons and—’ He looked at Roal’s statue. ‘—they get others involved in their bullshit.’
Putting the thought away, he turned to take a seat but found Isolde staring at a table nearby. Well, she was trying to be discreet and make it look like she wasn’t staring but—even while she helped unpack Rhea’s incredibly aromatic curry—her eyes were focused on the other table. At first, Alex didn’t recognize its occupants—considering they weren’t wearing their characteristic [coloured] shirts—but he soon realised she was eyeing the Hydra Companions.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to any of them since the Games, and—
Wait.
His eyes searched beyond the Hydra Companions and rested on the true recipients of Isolde’s covert attention. There, in all of their glory, sat the Ursa-Lupine Brotherhood, and among them, the familiar redheaded figure of Derek. The young man looked…different.
Older, with a leaner, harder physique and more grace to his movements. His long red hair had been cut low and his eyes hung lower; he actually looked exhausted.
“Damn,” Alex whispered. “That’s quite the change. What happened to him?”
“Well,” Isolde said. “I have not thought much about Derek since the summer—”
A single glance at her body language revealed this as a lie. The young noblewoman’s face always went slightly blank when she lied.
“—and I do not really care much what happens to him—”
Another lie.
“—however, my friends have informed me that the demonic attack seemed to shake him.” Her lip twitched. “He entered third year trying even less than in our first year. But such behaviour does not lead to success in one’s third year. Not that I celebrate his inconvenience or anything like that.”
Another lie.
“So, he found himself on academic probation. Again. I understand he has to apply himself now…though he is rather bitter about the situation. In the end, I suppose the shaking from the summer did him some good.” She looked at Alex. “Not that it is any of my business, of course.”
“Of course,” Alex said, fighting to keep his face straight. He was the very last person who could criticise someone for taking joy in petty revenge.
There was the tinkle of a spoon ringing against a cup.
“Alright, everyone, it’s time to honour the departed,” Thundar said, looking around the table. He was wearing the mask of an antlered fae this year.
All things considered, his demon mask from last year’s festival would have been…in poor taste.
“I know I led things last Festival, but does anyone mind if I go again?” the minotaur asked. “Kinda feels like we started a tradition.”
There was a chorus of approval from the group.
“Alright, then,” he cleared his throat, falling into words similar to those he’d spoken at their first Festival of Ghosts. “With our masks on to frighten away ghosts of evil folk who might be called by our words, we keep those we’re honouring in our minds, and dedicate the food we eat to them. We take our masks off to finish our feasting by sunset. Then we’ll all go out together as a group so the dead don’t follow any of us ‘cos we’re alone. Everyone ready?”
Some nodded, some spoke up, and all sat taller and straighter in their seats. Alex noticed that the other tables were also preparing for their own ceremonies.
“Alright, bow your heads everyone,” the minotaur said. “Close your eyes and think about who you’re honouring with this meal.”
Alex bowed his head, closing his eyes beneath the same dragon mask he’d worn last year. He waited for Selina’s hand to slide into his like it did at last year’s ceremony…but it never came.
‘Guess they do grow up fast,’ he thought.
“Oh, honoured ancestors.” Thundar’s deep voice began. “Lost friends and family, fallen members of the herd: we think about you through the year, but during this feast, we bring you into the centre of our thoughts and dedicate this food to you. We eat for you so that—through us—you can taste mortal sustenance again. Please watch over us throughout the year, and please keep those on death’s plane who might harm us, away.”
He paused. “Please bring forward whoever you’re dedicating this feast to in your thoughts.”
Images of Alex’s mother and father came to his mind as they had last year. But now, they were joined by those who had fallen in the battle on Oreca’s Fall, and those who’d lost their lives during the fight in Crymlyn Swamp.
He shuddered.
‘How many more faces will join these next year?’
“Now, say aloud who you want to honour,” Thundar instructed.
“Mother and father,” Alex said quietly. “Those who fell in the Crymlyn. Those who died here.”
Murmuring spread around the table, but he only focused on Selina’s words:
“Father and mother,” his little sister said quietly. “Those who lost their lives against the demons. Those who lost their lives against the Ravener.”
“Let the dead from beyond join with the living in this feast,” Thundar pronounced. “And let our memories of them grow happier and stronger. Alright, let’s begin. All of you can open your eyes and take off your masks. And-Oh holy shit!”
Alex’s eyes opened and his gaze drifted skyward.
This year, he wasn’t surprised at what was coming, but he was amazed nonetheless.
Like last year, the early evening sky was filled with hundreds of glowing beings shining with silver light, drifting like scores of autumn leaves. Ghosts of the fallen: mortals, beasts and monsters. He heard a sigh of relief escape his own mouth: thankful that there were no demonic shapes floating above.
A choked cry reached him from a nearby table.
“Ed…ward!” a doe beast-woman pointed to the sky. “It’s my Edward!”
A wave of gasps travelled between tables as folk pointed, calling out the names of loved ones floating within the stream of spirits passing by. Alex watched the ghostly throng, then exhaled deep and low. He too was finding familiar forms within the multitude of spirits. They weren’t folks he knew by name, but he remembered them as opponents from the Grand Battle.
He also recognized those he’d seen lying broken and unmoving on the sand.
Slowly, he bent his head to pray for their safe passage…but realised he no longer knew who to pray to. Calling on Uldar seemed hollow, and the Traveller was the patron saint of his hometown, she wasn’t a goddess who could guide these souls who’d fallen in battle in a foreign land.
In the end, he offered his silent prayer to any god who would listen:
‘To any merciful deity who hears me, I ask you to guide these souls into their reward in the afterworld, as you see fit. May they rest in peace, and may their sacrifice in life give them what they need in death.’
As he listened to the whispered prayers of his friends and those at tables close by, a disturbing thought struck him.
‘Mourning mortals who’ve fallen is one thing,’ he thought. ‘But how do you mourn the loss of a god? Of a church? Of one’s entire faith?’
The not-so-little crocodile had obviously taken well to Kybas' concoctions. The last time Alex saw him he'd actually grown quite a bit, but now, he was at least another foot longer than at the summer games, and he was thick like a log, sleek and powerful. His scales were shiny and clean, and his gait was steady and strong as he strode along beside his goblin master.A huge basket was strapped to his back with the scent of a buffet of mushroom dishes wafting from it.Hello! Kybas carried a pot of what smelled like mushroom soup. It's been a while!Yeah, man, how've you been? Alex asked, looking up at the scaled, monstrous mask he had sitting on his forehead.Oh, I've been good! Very good! the goblin grinned, bobbing his head enthusiastically. Harmless has grown so much!It's all been very good! He'll be the biggest and strongest, in no time.Yeah, Alex said. I can see that. Is Salinger working you hard?Nope. Kybas nodded to Theresa and the others, then lifted his soup pot onto the table. He began untying the basket from Harmless' back. I mean, he does work me very hard, but it's nothing I can't handle.He leaned toward Alex and whispered. Beats growing mushrooms by myself in a cave wondering when I'll get caught. He gave a little giggle.Yeah, no doubt.Kybas! Grimloch flashed his many-fanged grin at the goblin. How's hunting been?Good! He grinned back wickedly. Harmless is learning well. If he keeps it up, he'll be killing sea serpents soon!Oh, sea serpents are the best eating! You've gotta try some, Grimloch growled. I'll take you hunting and we can boil up whatever we catch together. But Harmless can have his raw if he'd like it better that way.Ooo! Ooo! That sounds fun and delicious! the goblin's voice rose. Maybe I'll take you to my home one day: there's big lizards there, and their meat's tough, but so, so juicy! Can't get any of that here.Grimloch laughed. Yeah, they got everything here except the best meats.I know!Alexand the rest of the groupgaped at Grimloch. He'd only seen the shark man that animated once before...and that was also when he'd been with Kybas. Was the world ending? Was the sky about to drop on them?He gets like that around Kybas, Nua-Oge confirmed quietly from somewhere behind Alex. It's great. So glad my baby brother made such a good friend. They really seem to understand each other!Y-es Prince Khalik muttered somewhat awkwardly. It's uncanny. Theymost definitely seem to understand each other.A match made in the hells themselves,' Alex thought. I don't want to be anywhere near either of those guys when they go hunting together. Maybe'Shiani! Selina suddenly cried. Hey! Heeeeey!Alex looked up to see Shiani, Malcolm, Eyvinder and Rhea coming toward them along the beach. Caramiyus and Angelar were just behind, their doberman-like faces covered by werewolf masks.Shiani was wearing a phoenix mask, but he could see her body language open up as soon as she saw Selina. Hi Selina, it's been awhile, she called excitedly. You're so much taller than last time we saw each other!It's been way too long, the young girl smiled, taking one of Shiani's fish dishes from her. A very spicy scent drifted from it. I had this idea I wanted to talk to you aboutWhoa, whoa, Alex said. Let's let them get settled first before we start an inquisition here.Oh, it's alright, I haven't seen Selina for a long time! Shiani laughed. You need to lighten up, Alex.Yeah, what she said, don't be so grumpy and mean, ugh. Selina put her hands on her hips.What? Alex cried incredulously, spreading his hands. I'm just trying to make sure my little sister isn't rude! How does that make me the bad guy?But Selina had already turned back to Shiani and was chatting away like Alex wasn't there. I wanted to talk to you about heat, and how it moves She started.I wouldn't worry about it too much, Rhea said, the tall elf putting her dish down and smiling warmly. Shiani was pretty excited about catching up with her.And the rest of you were a good consolation prize, Malcolm added, sliding a tray of layered sandwiches and frozen juice cubes onto the table.Judging by how excited she is, it would seem that the rest of us are a consolation prize for Selina as well, Isolde smiled.Alex sighed, staring up at the heavens. You hear that, mother and father? Your daughter thinks her own brother and all her friends are consolation prizes. He laughed as Selina guided Shiani to her seat, shaking his head. Well I guess that's only natural, eh? he whispered.He watched his friends settling at the table and an old memory came back to him.It would be a shame if the next Festival of Ghosts were to come around next year, where he would be one of the dead being honoured by his friends and family.He remembered thinking along those lines just before the festival when he and Baelin talked about the hunt for the demon summoner. He'd sworn not to get involved in finding the dangerous maniac back then.In the end, though, Leopold had pulled himand everyone hereinto it.That's the trouble with dangerous maniacs, demons and' He looked at Roal's statue. they get others involved in their bullshit.'Putting the thought away, he turned to take a seat but found Isolde staring at a table nearby. Well, she was trying to be discreet and make it look like she wasn't staring buteven while she helped unpack Rhea's incredibly aromatic curryher eyes were focused on the other table. At first, Alex didn't recognize its occupantsconsidering they weren't wearing their characteristic coloured shirtsbut he soon realised she was eyeing the Hydra Companions.He hadn't seen or spoken to any of them since the Games, andWait.His eyes searched beyond the Hydra Companions and rested on the true recipients of Isolde's covert attention. There, in all of their glory, sat the Ursa-Lupine Brotherhood, and among them, the familiar redheaded figure of Derek. The young man lookeddifferent.Older, with a leaner, harder physique and more grace to his movements. His long red hair had been cut low and his eyes hung lower; he actually looked exhausted.Damn, Alex whispered. That's quite the change. What happened to him?Well, Isolde said. I have not thought much about Derek since the summerA single glance at her body language revealed this as a lie. The young noblewoman's face always went slightly blank when she lied.and I do not really care much what happens to himAnother lie.however, my friends have informed me that the demonic attack seemed to shake him. Her lip twitched. He entered third year trying even less than in our first year. But such behaviour does not lead to success in one's third year. Not that I celebrate his inconvenience or anything like that.Another lie.So, he found himself on academic probation. Again. I understand he has to apply himself nowthough he is rather bitter about the situation. In the end, I suppose the shaking from the summer did him some good. She looked at Alex. Not that it is any of my business, of course.Of course, Alex said, fighting to keep his face straight. He was the very last person who could criticise someone for taking joy in petty revenge.There was the tinkle of a spoon ringing against a cup.Alright, everyone, it's time to honour the departed, Thundar said, looking around the table. He was wearing the mask of an antlered fae this year.All things considered, his demon mask from last year's festival would have beenin poor taste.I know I led things last Festival, but does anyone mind if I go again? the minotaur asked. Kinda feels like we started a tradition.There was a chorus of approval from the group.Alright, then, he cleared his throat, falling into words similar to those he'd spoken at their first Festival of Ghosts. With our masks on to frighten away ghosts of evil folk who might be called by our words, we keep those we're honouring in our minds, and dedicate the food we eat to them. We take our masks off to finish our feasting by sunset. Then we'll all go out together as a group so the dead don't follow any of us cos we're alone. Everyone ready?Some nodded, some spoke up, and all sat taller and straighter in their seats. Alex noticed that the other tables were also preparing for their own ceremonies.Alright, bow your heads everyone, the minotaur said. Close your eyes and think about who you're honouring with this meal.Alex bowed his head, closing his eyes beneath the same dragon mask he'd worn last year. He waited for Selina's hand to slide into his like it did at last year's ceremonybut it never came.Guess they do grow up fast,' he thought.Oh, honoured ancestors. Thundar's deep voice began. Lost friends and family, fallen members of the herd: we think about you through the year, but during this feast, we bring you into the centre of our thoughts and dedicate this food to you. We eat for you so thatthrough usyou can taste mortal sustenance again. Please watch over us throughout the year, and please keep those on death's plane who might harm us, away.He paused. Please bring forward whoever you're dedicating this feast to in your thoughts.Images of Alex's mother and father came to his mind as they had last year. But now, they were joined by those who had fallen in the battle on Oreca's Fall, and those who'd lost their lives during the fight in Crymlyn Swamp.He shuddered.How many more faces will join these next year?'Now, say aloud who you want to honour, Thundar instructed.Mother and father, Alex said quietly. Those who fell in the Crymlyn. Those who died here.Murmuring spread around the table, but he only focused on Selina's words:Father and mother, his little sister said quietly. Those who lost their lives against the demons. Those who lost their lives against the Ravener.Let the dead from beyond join with the living in this feast, Thundar pronounced. And let our memories of them grow happier and stronger. Alright, let's begin. All of you can open your eyes and take off your masks. And-Oh holy shit!Alex's eyes opened and his gaze drifted skyward.This year, he wasn't surprised at what was coming, but he was amazed nonetheless.Like last year, the early evening sky was filled with hundreds of glowing beings shining with silver light, drifting like scores of autumn leaves. Ghosts of the fallen: mortals, beasts and monsters. He heard a sigh of relief escape his own mouth: thankful that there were no demonic shapes floating above.A choked cry reached him from a nearby table.Edward! a doe beast-woman pointed to the sky. It's my Edward!A wave of gasps travelled between tables as folk pointed, calling out the names of loved ones floating within the stream of spirits passing by. Alex watched the ghostly throng, then exhaled deep and low. He too was finding familiar forms within the multitude of spirits. They weren't folks he knew by name, but he remembered them as opponents from the Grand Battle.He also recognized those he'd seen lying broken and unmoving on the sand.Slowly, he bent his head to pray for their safe passagebut realised he no longer knew who to pray to. Calling on Uldar seemed hollow, and the Traveller was the patron saint of his hometown, she wasn't a goddess who could guide these souls who'd fallen in battle in a foreign land.In the end, he offered his silent prayer to any god who would listen:To any merciful deity who hears me, I ask you to guide these souls into their reward in the afterworld, as you see fit. May they rest in peace, and may their sacrifice in life give them what they need in death.'As he listened to the whispered prayers of his friends and those at tables close by, a disturbing thought struck him.Mourning mortals who've fallen is one thing,' he thought. But how do you mourn the loss of a god? Of a church? Of one's entire faith?'
