2024 Anniversary Celebration

Silas could feel something in the breeze. A faint cheerful atmosphere coupled with a warm sensation of the change of seasons. The spirits were bustling about with things, more so than usual. He wasn’t fully aware as to what had them all in a tizzy, but he let them be. If they were behaving, there was no reason to stop them. He sat on the balcony, high above on the rooftop, watching the sun from over the treetops. It was evening, but the sun was still quite bright. There was a faint sound carried from just beyond the reach of the forest. A cheerful happy song, that weaved its way to the mansion. Looking down to the courtyard, Silas could see that the spirits had put up some decorations in bright reds and golds. Closing his book, he decided to investigate. The spiral stairs that led down to the third floor were cramped and the only light was that of his wisp leading the way. The chain on his tail clinked with each descending step, alerting those below of his presence. A passing spirit came to a stop in front of Silas. It had the vague form of a fetter, ears and horns visible, yet was all white. Body faded to the floor, and seemed to dissipate near the waistline. This was one of the residents of the mansion prior to Silas moving in. His own ghostly followers had no full forms like this. They only looked like small blobs, with faces that seemed to always be in torment. The apparition motioned for Silas to follow, gliding towards the courtyard. It signed to him, explaining that today was the celebration of the day Fetters came to Earth. They had celebrated it when they were alive, but they weren’t sure if anyone did so anymore. The decorations represented the golden light of a bright future ahead of them; the red, the blood of those who gave their lives to make the crossing a reality. Many of the spirits of the mansion, and even those of the surrounding forest, had joined in the celebration. Dancing to music that was so faint you would think you were imagining it, and coming together to communicate in their own ways. The apparition continued on, explaining that some would be leaving tonight at the height of the moon, when magic was strongest. It was the time of the spirits’ passing, but not all would go. Some still had ties to this world and would stay, continuing the tradition of this sacred celebration for the next generation. Silas was asked one thing then; to ring the bell atop the tower to call those who were lost to them. Silent as ever, Silas nodded. He turned to leave without uttering a sound, heading back the way he came to reach the staircase once more. The climb was a long one, winding further than the balcony before, and crossing the roof to the other side of the building. The walkway across the roof was narrow, lined on either side with knee high metal fencing. A large wooden door led into a small tower room, a rope dangling far down from the bell’s location above. Silas gave the rope a few tugs, sending the bell’s chime throughout the forest. Birds burst from the trees into the sunset, peacocks in the garden called out, and souls within earshot turned their way towards the library. Silas returned to the balcony once more, looking down upon the joyous celebration happening between all the souls who cane to the call, many seeing each other for the first time since passing. The spirits held elaborate dances and jumped about in play amongst themselves. The day turned to night slowly, the courtyard slowing coming to light as the decorations began to glow with ethereal light. The light grew and grew, bathing the whole yard in bright gold, and then it was gone. Faint lights spattered the sky as they moved on. Those left behind smiled and cried, everyone having been touched by the reunion. The apparition from before came to Silas’s side once more. Signing, “They have successfully moved on. Hopefully more will join next year.” Giving Silas a last smile and ‘thank you’ motion, it disappeared. Hopefully by next year, he thought, he would have harnessed his magic enough to communicate with his guests properly. He returned to his seat, book in hand. A few hours had passed, but he wanted to finish the chapter before he retired for the night. The air still felt warm, but it also carried a bit of sadness of those who were left behind. The celebrations continued for a few more hours, but Silas decided he was done for the day. Marking his book, he turned towards his room, new spirits taking tours around the building as they grew accustomed to their new residence. Many spirits were drawn to stay at the library, most tying to find answers as to why they were still here. The saddest residents stayed in what most referred to as the “forbidden wing”, but unlike the namesake, any and all were welcome there. These were those who had been touched and scarred by the plague. In an act of kindness, a few of the spirits had followed the apparition to this wing to bring gifts to those left behind. Silas turned away, not in the mood to see the horrors that were within those doors. His own room was lonely, none were welcome here typically, though there was a small treat and note left by his bed. The apparition had given him a small pice of the festivities. He set it aside, chain bumping the tail legs of his bed as he passed. Sighing heavily, he collapsed into his sheets. Would he find out why he was here too? Thoughts like this always grew louder after celebrations. While the spirits here were free to do as they please, Silas tended to stick to himself, searching for answers as so many before him had done. Sleep came for him quickly, allowing him a small escape from his troubles.