Quiet, now, and listen. We do not often think of it, but there is a very real history to the festivities that we are soon to hold – a dark history, that many would like to forget.
Our story begins on a crisp Autumn evening quite like this one, when the first hints of Winter’s chill begin to slip into the air. A promising student in his last year of tutelage, Jacque by name, was searching for a certain magical fungus at the edge of Silva Forest, accompanied by his Quetzalcoatl. As the sun began to set, he came upon a place where the trees grew thick together, unbroken except by a sort of tunnel. It was just big enough for him to fit. Intrigued, Jacque entered the forest.
He came out in a dim clearing, lit only by a small opening in between the treetops. In the middle of the clearing stood a remarkable sight – an empty stone doorframe covered in ivy. With great caution, he gathered what courage he could—there really was something disturbing about the doorway—and carefully inched his way through. At first, it seemed as though nothing had happened. However, the forest had taken on a darker air, and the light that filtered down through the hole in the branches was not that of the sun but the moon. Several thin, dark animals watched him from between the trees, eyes gleaming and teeth bared.
He jumped as a voice gusted through the branches.
“What business have you on my Threshold?” it growled.
“Pardon me, sir,” Jacque stammered, “I do not know. I came upon this clearing quite by accident.”
The voice boomed around him; he realized that it was laughing. “’Pardon me, sir’?” it chortled. “If you knew who I am you might not be so amiable.”
A black flame burst to life in front of the mage, and it began to climb—which is not to say it grew higher; it climbed—up what first seemed to be a pillar but soon proved to be a gaunt old man in a tattered gray cloak. His eyes burned soulless in his skull, and his skin clung tight to his body, giving him the appearance of a skeleton. Jacque gasped – here was a true personification of death; no, it was death – Death himself in bodily form.
“You have amused me, so I will leave you where you stand for now,” he rasped. “Most mortals can only quake in their boots when I speak to them. But back to the matter at hand: you have violated the Threshold, and that cannot go unnoticed. This door is not meant for the living. Even now your presence disturbs the spirits.”
“Well… I apologize, I suppose,” Jacque said, briefly glancing down at the Quetzalcoatl, which was now curled about his legs for solace.
The apparition deliberated for a moment. “I understand that mortals make such things – mistakes, yes? – but that does not bring much comfort to me, and even less to the spirits. I’m afraid something must be done.” He took a step forward, sparks of magic playing through his fingers.
Jacque stiffened. “You’re going to kill me?”
“That is the standard resolution of these things. Why do you fear it?”
“I only worry for my friends and charges. They will not know where I have gone.”
Death considered. “You also have the common wish to continue to experience life. But your concern is enough; you have once again proved different from the others.”
The specter began to mold something out of magic as a potter molds a vase out of clay. A lantern abruptly appeared in Death’s skeletal hands, a dim purple flame wavering inside.
“This will show that you have my authority in the task you are about to undertake. What you must do is this: collect a platypus’ weight in vegetables, meat or grain before the lantern turns black.”
Before the mage could inquire how long that would be, he and his companion found themselves on the road back to the Keep and the town below. Even though it seemed he had spent half an hour at least in the clearing, no visible change had been made to the position of the sun. Focusing his magic, Jacque called for his Kirin, and once it arrived he rode down to the town below.
His first stop was Remy’s Inn. Remy was annoyed, at first; it was a busy night, and he wasn’t accustomed to giving things away. As Jacque soon found out, however, a glimpse of the lantern was enough to persuade most people. It seemed to radiate an aura of horror that only he did not feel. He left the inn with a cut of meat and several loaves of bread. Soon he had a few heads of lettuce courtesy of a young woman running a stall in the market. Then there were carrots from a gardener on his way home.
Thus Jacque hurriedly made his way through the town, begging food from all he met. Often, out of the corner of his eye, he would see purple eyes watching him or glimpse a waving tail.
As he weighed a friend’s platypus against his supplies for the third time, he saw that the sun was almost below the mountainous horizon; he knew he must hurry. So he called for his gryphon, which took him to the Keep. He hurried through the halls until he reached the kitchens and the garden. He had just been granted the last portion when a chill crept up his arm. He looked down to see the lantern glowing black, and suddenly he found himself in the clearing again, the parcels of food sitting around his feet.
“I see you have succeeded,” said his antagonist. “Very well. I suppose this will calm the dead somewhat – they like things from the other side. However, I have a second proposition. I will give you a reward,” he rasped, cackling as he finished. “Give me a riddle I cannot answer, and I will give you a creature none have seen before.”
Jacque thought on this. Could anything good come of it? And what would Death never be able to guess?
Suddenly, an idea came to him. He was certain it would work, and a new companion was not an opportunity to dismiss lightly. He carefully organized his words and began.
“What can stand for all time
But seems greatest when just begun,
What conquers all things
Yet can submit to every one?”
The shade thought… and thought… and thought. But no matter how hard he tried, how cleverly he examined the lines, he could not discern the answer.
Sensing his opponent’s resolve waning, Jacque triumphantly shouted the answer: “Love!”
Death chuckled. “Ah, but of course. One of your kind tried to describe it to me once, after he’d joined us. Well, I suppose you’re expecting your… reward.”
Suddenly, what seemed to be an ordinary raccoon appeared in the clearing. However, it held a lantern in its paw, a lantern just like that which Jacque had been given before.
“This little creature is quite useful, quite useful indeed… But whether or not you can keep him in line remains to be seen. Farewell—for now, at least. I’m afraid we must meet again soon.”
With a chuckle the shade disappeared, and Jacque found himself at the edge of Silva Forest. The tunnel, however, had disappeared.
So you see, in one night’s adventures lie the beginnings of a festival’s customs, a name for a carved pumpkin, and a new kind of companion – the Arathkon. Now remember: when next you take up a lantern and mask to collect sweets from your fellow magi, it is a grim tradition you continue, and you would do well not to let it soften your guard. Some things are not to be taken lightly. As our studies of magic have shown, there is often a reason that we fear the dark.
