All Hallows' Eve (2013 Halloween Writing Contest Entry)

[SeaCrest]

Maeve clutched her books tight as she trudged through the glistening snow. Why on earth had winter come so fast this year? Barely time for All Hallows’ Eve, and there was already snow on the ground. Her breath was visible in the air as she hurried towards the warmth of the Keep. Of course, no matter what the weather was like, magi-in-training were supposed to be in class. Sun, snow, sleet, or rain. It did help that most students had or knew someone who had a companion who could help with horrible weather like this. For example, those magi who were lucky enough to have fire companions were probably laughing at her and those like her at this very moment. She loved snow as much as the next teenager, but when she had to go to school with absolutely no magic, well. It was one of those times when she wished she was a fire mage and not a shadow mage.

That’s right. Shadow mage. She didn’t like calling herself a dark mage, even though technically that was what she was, because of the connotations of ‘dark magic.’ Not only that, but she fight the stereotype of a dark mage; ebony hair and ghostly skin, with large, dark eyes that seemed to suck you into their depths. When she was a child, her mother had often called her Snow White, after that charming fairytale, despite Maeve’s protests. She had always had a fascination with the shadows of the night, and being cast as a princess, a ‘goody-two-shoes,’ did not sit well with her.

As she got closer to the Keep, she could see numerous paths of half-melted snow, evidently created by anaugis and dragons, perhaps even a karanthras. Thankful for the reprieve from the knee-high snow, Maeve stepped onto one of the paths, peering at the slushy snow and attempting to identify the footprints, to no avail.

“Oh look. It’s the necromancer! Everybody run!” A derisive voice, high and beautiful, if it weren’t for the cruel, mocking words it uttered, cut through the cold air.

“Amusing, Kenna. So very original,” Maeve responded, her voice carefully neutral. Kenna, fire-born and fire-raised, was one of the most powerful fire mages at the Keep at the moment. Her ambitious mother had searched for a suitably powerful and awe-inspiring companion for her baby princess, and Kenna had grown up with a soulflame Cerberus by her side. Admittedly, said Cerberus did not appear to enjoy its mistresses company, and was often ‘missing,’ or as Kenna put it, ‘free to do what it wants.’ The fire mage was tall, tanned, and temperamental, with a crown of golden hair that she spent most of her class time tending. Maeve despised her. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Kirby isn’t back from his latest adventure yet,” Kenna explained slowly, as if to a four-year-old.

“You mean he’s run off again,” Maeve taunted, attempting to walk by the other girl and reach the promise of warmth inside.

Kenna’s famous temper flared up. “Oh you’re so funny, deathgirl,” she snarled, sweeping her hand around and raising a circle of fire.

“I’m sooooo scared,” Maeve deadpanned, inwardly sighing and settling her feet more firmly in the slush.

“Let’s see how brave you are when you’re burning alive. We should have burned you the very first day!” Kenna hissed, the ring of fire roaring higher with her temper. Ropes of fire began lashing out around Maeve, who retaliated with a wave of shadow magic aimed directly for Kenna, bypassing the other girl’s attacks with ease and blinding her to Maeve’s next move.

Which was to kick snow at the fire mage and walk inside. Her magic wasn’t for harmless dueling. It lent itself naturally to doing real harm, and she had no desire to spend another two weeks in the Library for fighting again. That had been mind-numbing enough, although she had gleaned some useful spells from cataloguing all those books.

-----

“All Hallows’ Eve is almost upon us. Who can tell me the origins of this festival? Maeve?”

“All Hallows’ Eve is the night before All Saints’. It is a celebration of the dead, including great leaders, martyrs, and others who have died. It was believed that spirits – good and bad – returned to the earthly plane on this night, and people wore costumes that mimicked the bad spirits so that they wouldn’t be targeted by these mischief-makers.”

“Of course she’d know,” Kenna muttered to her groupies, but Maeve and the professor ignored her.

“Very good, Maeve. It’s a false impression that All Hallows’ Eve is evil, just like it is a false idea that shadow magic is inherently evil—yes, Kenna?”

“But dark magic is just creepy. I mean, look at viyasants, or those creepy owls that bring back the dead. What are they, if not evil?” the blonde finished triumphantly.

Maeve rounded on her. “Who owns a Cerberus? Cerberus was a three-headed dog who guarded the Underworld in legend! Doesn’t that make a Cerberus evil? And who would own an evil creature but a mage who was evil themselves? Does death make something evil? Is anything inherently evil by nature? Being evil is intentionally hurting someone or something for no purpose other than entertainment – what creature in nature does so except for humans? It is the way that they are made. Cruel, yes, but an integral part of their character. They would not be the same – torveus dragons, for example, might not be one of the single most powerful creatures we have encountered if it weren’t for their ruthlessness. Adapting to your environment does not make you evil.”

“Thank you, Maeve,” the professor said, attempting to redirect the conversation, but Kenna wasn’t having it.

“Of course you’d think so,” she sneered. “You’re steeped in dark magic, so you obviously aren’t going to call yourself evil, but why else would you always be surrounded by dark creatures, slinking around in the shadows? Why don’t you have friends?”

“Girls—”

“Would you say you’re evil?”

“What? Of course not, I’m—”

“Fire is far more destructive than any other element. It is volatile, powerful, and irreversible. It consumes anything in its path. Is it evil? Or is it natural?”

“Fire is normal—”

“Without shadow we could not have light. Without shadow we could not have day and night. Without shadow we would be dust on a barren globe. Shadow is as natural as air, earth, fire, and water. Just because it scares you doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Just because you can’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t real.” Maeve was fuming. Always. She always lost her temper when it came to defending the shadows that gave her her magic.

“But dark magic is inherently evil – look at Namista’s spiders—”

“So you won’t admit that there are other creatures created by magi? You won’t admit that you’ve thought about using your power to create a perfect companion? You won’t admit that the War was caused by a clashing of all magi? That magi of ALL affiliations have turned ‘evil?’ Because they have, Kenna, and that’s where you don’t understand that one, two, three, a fraction of a whole population does NOT characterize the WHOLE population. Remember the Cerberus savaging last year? How would you feel if we judged you for having a Cerberus? If we demanded that you killed your precious Kirby, even though he didn’t do anything wrong? If we argued that you should be ostracized from society because Flaming Calida tried to burn down the Keep and everything that lived in it? You’d say it was unjust wouldn’t you? So why is it okay for you to do the same to me? To other shadow magi? There are plenty of shadow magi in the world who aren’t ‘evil.’ They act the same way that all other magi do, with one exception; there is a stigma against the dark in this society, and people like you are just so stubborn that you believe you are always right and can’t even try to understand someone else’s argument!”

“If you’d just listen, deathgirl, you’d understand that dark. Magic. Is. EVIL. You can raise the dead – isn’t that evil? Against nature? Dark magic isn’t natural, it’s evil and shady and just wrong—”

“You didn’t listen to a single word I said, did you? And raising the dead is impossible. We can create shades, facsimiles of the dead, we can reanimate corpses and skeletons, but we cannot restore life to something that is already dead. Only Thane and Tristan can, and you don’t go around calling them evil, do you?” Maeve stood up. “I’m done. If I’m going to be picked on for something that I don’t have any control over every day, I’m going to do something drastic. Maybe make a puppet of your dead body, if you push me to it.” She grabbed her books and stormed past the other students, who were staring at her with a mixture of awe, revulsion, and shock. She ignored the professor calling her back, ignored Kenna’s screeching laugh and boasts of triumph in ‘getting rid of the deathgirl.’ She ignored it when the professor told Kenna to shut up or spend a month cleaning the stables. When she made it outside, the icy air calmed her down a little. There was a reason she was one of the first shadow magi to be admitted to the Keep. Not because Thane thought they weren’t fit to learn, but because he was afraid that this would happen.

“You’re right.” A voice behind her made Maeve spin around, a sneer forming on her face as she recognized the poster boy of light magic. Zane was tall and well built, with tanned skin and sandy blond hair that was always slightly messy. Most girls fawned over him.

“About what?” Maeve asked suspiciously.

“About judging people based on one or two incidents. I mean, look at torveus dragons. By Kenna’s reasoning they should have been exterminated long ago for their viciousness.”

Maeve narrowed her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Has she jaded you so much that you honestly don’t believe someone could agree with you?” Zane asked, one eyebrow raised.

“No, but of all people you’re the most stereotypical enemy I have.”

He snorted. “Eh. I don’t have a problem with shadow magic. My mum’s one, did you know? I grew up with it as a normal part of life. Death’s natural too. And whatever Kenna says, we can do some pretty unnatural stuff with magic – what’s a little reanimation?”

Maeve chuckled. “Heh. Aren’t you going to get in trouble for cutting class?”

“Class is dismissed. Kenna’s in a ton of trouble for attacking you like that, and someone said she saw you two fighting before class and that Kenna attacked first, so yeah. You’re safe.”

“Good to know.” Maeve began to walk away. “Hey. Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone in thinking that I’m not evil.”

“No problem,” he called after her, turning to talk to the other students who began trickling out of the Keep in search of food.

-----

All Hallows’ Eve. Maeve was wearing a black dress and cloak, with soft-soled boots on her feet. A ruby hung from a long gold chain around her neck, but other than that, she was almost totally monochrome. On her shoulder was a silky black viyasant, its many tails wriggling like worms as it vftfsniffed the cold air. In her hands she held a large column candle, pure white wax that was smooth and new. Kneeling down by the fallen tree, she anchored the candle in the snow and lit a smaller taper candle, letting the black wax of the taper drip down onto the white candle.

“Mother, Father, Sister, Brother. Remember me? Tonight you might walk this realm. Be careful. As always, there are those who do not understand. There are those who dismiss the darkness as unnecessary, but we know better. It is who we are.” Maeve lit the white candle, now streaked with black wax, and in that moment, she disappeared. In her place was a tenabre fox, its skull reflecting the candle’s flame and its ghostly form blending in with the shadows.

A long, eerie howl split the night.

In his room, Zane felt that howl to his very bones. And he knew. He knew that Maeve was not who she seemed to be. He knew now why she was so passionate about defending her magic. Because it wasn’t just her magic or her character – it was her very being. She was the darkness. It didn’t scare him, didn’t his opinion of her any less. Who was he to judge, a mere mortal in a world of magic and immortality? Who was to say that there weren’t spirits who roamed the earth, unseen and unheard, but still there?

He lit a candle and placed it on his windowsill, looking out into the starry sky. On impulse, he threw open the window, letting the frosty air permeate the room. Below, he could see the partygoers, like Kenna and her friends, milling around before departing in groups, like a handful of fireflies flitting away in the dark. He was supposed to be going too, but right now he felt the need for some quiet reflection.

A bitingly cold gust of wind swept through the open window and around the room. When he turned around, he was greeted by the eerie smile of a tenabre fox. “Hullo, Maeve.”

The tenabre approached him and stared at him with dark eyes. “Yes, I’m going out. Do you want to come?”

With a shimmer, the tenabre fox became human once more. “You’re crazy,” she said softly. “You know what I am, and you’re not afraid of me? I’ve never revealed myself to anyone, and yet here you stand, perfectly calm.”

Zane shrugged. “So are you coming or not?”

A smile lit Maeve’s face, a foreign sight to most. “I would love to.”

In the woods, a lone candle flickered softly, drawing the attention of both mortals and spirits. Four people stepped out of the shadows; pale, dark-haired, and translucent. Each wore a ruby, and each had the dark, penetrating eyes that Maeve had. Two women and two men who kneeled down in the snow next to the candle and left their mark in the soft wax of the candle. They did not speak; they didn’t make any sound at all. Once the candle was marked with a band of characters only they understood, they rose and disappeared into the night once more. They left behind a burning candle – and four sets of pawprints.

The wind whispered in the trees, seeming to speak a language long forgotten, but the candle continued to burn until dawn, when Maeve blew it out and pried it from the bark of the fallen tree. She ran her finger across the marks, and then sliced the candle open.

Inside was an egg, dark and smooth. Even as she watched, a small plume of shadowy fur emerged, escaping the confines of a shell not yet ready to break. A new sibling, to be raised and set free. Not all of them were like her. Not all of them were burdened with bridging two worlds. But such was fate.

[Feuerfresser]

I love that one