Siyyon Hallow's Eve: Homaruside Pt 1

There were lanterns, costumes, candy, prayers, and visits with families both living and deceased over in Viridis. Children went door to door and knocked enthusiastically, reciting the joyous little mantra of the celebration, “trick or treeeeaaat!” Lazuli thought it was cute, seeing all of the costumes on man and taur alike as they ran from one house to another with flour sacks and pillow cases- some had buckets, which was rather creative given some candies tended to leak or make a mess.

The faevyn didn’t have a house for children to stop by, nor did he have candy to give out, and that was okay; he was used to the nomadic life, and would have rather watched the surprisingly large populace have their fun than stay inside all night making treats. He was too old to go door-to-door too, but a few children just entering their teenage years argued that nobody could tell as long as the lobster kept his mouth shut and traveled in a group. “You’re short enough, and you gotta good costume! Why not?” They insisted. He let the costume comment slide and simply declined, and they went on their way.

Lazuli was more familiar with the other side of the Hallows Eve coin though; having had grown up with a human mother in a human town, everyone was more or less on guard against the spirits of the dead, be it native ghosts or familiar spectres who came and died there. His mother always told him stories at night of the shipwrecked dead coming for revenge, and it was enough to keep him indoors till the sun came up. He never was sure if she was telling the truth, but if the whole town was on watch with bows and spears and surrounded themselves with walls, then it had to have some merit, right? His mother never lied to him, except for the whole ‘shell fairy’ thing; he caught her one night when she tripped on one of his toys. The memory made Lazuli chuckle as he got up and headed down the road.

Dodging an enthusiastic group of children running ahead of their worried parents, the faevyn passed by stores lit by jack-o-lanterns of all sizes and shapes, some with taur-kin on them, others with animals. One had a particularly ugly face, and he saw a young girl return the ugly look back at it as her mother bargained with the store-keep for her costume. Pumpkin carving wasn’t something he’d ever tried before, but there weren’t exactly any classes or public events to teach him, so the lobster didn’t see it worth wasting his time trying; he’d leave it to the little professionals.

The ringing of a bell startled everyone; the hour had turned, and a group of taur-kin left a tall building that housed the bell. Lazuli glanced inside from the road; he could see candles, mats, and what looked to be low tables, but couldn’t discern what was going on, precisely. He tried to get a cow-taur’s attention to ask her, but she pointedly ignored him, uncomfortable with the faevyn’s presence much in the same way the average citizen was with beggars. With a shrug, he headed back to the building, hoping he didn’t receive the same treatment inside, likely as it was.

The lobster slowly peeked into the door; there were several seating arrangements around what appeared to be shrines, each adorned with flowers of all kinds around vague figures with minimally obscured features. At the base of each, there were small cards, ink, and quills, and a back wall covered in cards of various colors, all with writing on them. As he walked around, a kangaroo-taur patron spotted the confused faevyn and approached him.
“I take it this is your first time in a shrine, traveler?” The man asked calmly, nearly scaring the wits out of Lazuli. “Terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

“S’fine! Fine,” the faevyn took a moment to regain composure and looked around. “Uh, yeah. Mom never was the religious type, and we didn’t go out much.”

“Oh, it’s not as religious as people might lead you to believe, sir.” The patron replied, keeping his voice down so as not to interrupt the other visitors, “Some families pray to their dead, asking for protection, bidding un-given farewells, or seeking closure not found in life. Through these shrines, they aim to pay their respects through prayer and gifts, though there have been instances where the very spirit they seek to reach will respond in more direct ways!”

“Such as… Appearing as the undead outside your house?” Lazuli asked skeptically.

The patron simply gave him a smile and half-nod. “Human culture sees them that way, but spirits have never meant true harm. It all ultimately depends upon the individual- some like to have a little bit of fun with those in the land of the living, and there are people who aren’t fond of tricks in their treats. If you wish to pray as well, you’re welcome to.” He motioned to an empty shrine nearby, one with a pair of carnations: one striped, one white. “Though if you would wish that others remember the spirits so important to you, you are free to write their names upon a card and add it to the wall. Many people choose to add what made them memorable, but don’t feel any obligation.”
Lazuli looked down at the shrine; as far as he knew, there were only a small number of people in his life that actually made an impact; those that did were either alive and well, or their fates were unknown. He didn’t even know if his own mother was among the living, and the idea of praying to someone who could still be alive seemed rather ridiculous to him. “What if we can’t be sure if we have any dead to remember?” He asked softly, more out of curiosity than disheartened attitude.

“Deceased or not, there is always someone to remember, is there not?” the patron asked, “And you can’t know for certain unless you pray- that’s what my mother always told me growing up, anyway.” With that, the kangaroo-taur hopped around him and out the door with his family, leaving the faevyn to dwell on his words.

Lazuli could think of perhaps one person , but a small bell tower wasn’t the place to pay respects in his opinion.