Just a quick short for Halloween.
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Lighting the Way
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There were quite a few things that Vincent wasn't sure he understood and a handful that he simply didn't even bothering trying to. Usually, whenever Cid and Reeve started on about mechanics and their theories, he fell into the latter category. For most other things, he usually ended up in the first.
This evening fell into the 'most other things' column.
"What are you doing to that pumpkin?" he asked.
The four men at the table looked up and he merely shifted, remaining silent.
Genesis was the first to speak up, as usual. "We're carving it."
From the other side, Cid snorted. "I think he can see that, ya brat."
Sighing, Vincent felt his lips twitch behind the cover of his cloak. Reeve's soft chuckle was infectious; a sound he thoroughly enjoyed hearing and never failed to spark at least a small smile in himself. "Yes, I can see that," he agreed, pushing off the wall and clearing the distance between them.
To his left, Cloud pulled his hand from the inside of the pumpkin, dropping a mountain of seeds and orange muck in a pan. "Denzel suggested we should carve pumpkins for the Holiday," he said with a shrug. "He's staying with Tifa to go Trick-or-Treating with Marlene though, so we only got one."
"Mm." Nodding, Vincent moved to the doorway to hang his cloak and glove. He set the gauntlet on the table there and flexed his fingers, stretching them. The warm air of the house felt a little odd against his skin but he was getting used to it. "Do you know why you carve pumpkins?"
"Because it's fun?" Genesis suggested.
"Other than that." When the group shook their heads, Vincent came to sit at the table. "There was an old story about a turnip farmer-"
"A turnip is the purple one...right?"
Laughing, Genesis set his hand on Cloud's shoulder and shook his head. "A turnip is white. You're thinking of an eggplant."
"Oh."
"Anyway," Cid prompted, settling back in his chair.
Nodding, Vincent continued. "The turnip farmer was afraid of death, of hell. So, one evening, he spotted the Devil wandering his property. The man was cunning and he tricked the Devil into a tree where he quickly carved a cross, making his escape impossible. In return for setting the Devil free, the man wanted one thing - a guarantee that his soul wouldn't go to hell when he died. The Devil agreed and he was set free."
"What does this have to do with pumpkins?" Genesis asked, peering at the muck in the pan. Cloud's hands were tinted orange from his continued scraping on the sides and Vincent couldn't resist a small smile when he wiggled his fingers at Genesis's face. The man wrinkled his nose, pulling away from him quickly. "Get your hands away from me until you wash them."
"Well," he said, shifting in his chair. "When the man eventually died, he'd done too many sinful things to be granted admittance into Heaven. Instead, he found himself wandering the dark. Alone and scared he did the only thing he could think of: he called upon the Devil. 'This is not what I wanted' he told him. Laughing, the Devil did nothing more than shrug but, upon further pleading, the Devil granted him one favor in return for the amusement he'd provided. He gave the man an ember of hell, telling him that it would never burn out. The man took it, desperate to chase the darkness away somehow. It burned his fingers, however and just before he vanished, the Devil tossed a turnip at him, one that had come from his patch and told him to carve himself a lantern out of the only thing he'd ever known."
"I still don't see-"
"Hush up, ya brat. Let 'im finish and you'll find out," Cid snapped. "Impatient pest."
Soft laughter came from the table and Vincent waited patiently for it to pass. "On All Hallow's Eve, when the rift between the living realm and those that do not fully fade into the Lifestream is smallest, the locals from the village where the man had lived started seeing his ghost, carrying the lantern and holding the darkness at bay. His name had been Jack and, hoping to keep the dead and all manner of horrifying creatures at bay, they too started carving things to hold a candle in his stead. They called it a 'Jack-o-lantern'. "He gestured to the pumpkin. "As the story spread, reaching further across the continents, some people didn't have turnips and instead, substituted what they did. The pumpkin became popular because of how large it is."
"And why the faces?" Reeve asked.
"To scare the monsters away," Vincent replied, lips twitching.
The man smiled and sipped his drink. "I see," he muttered against the rim of the mug.
There was a moment of silence before the pumpkin carving resumed and the chatter began again. Vincent was content to sit in his chair and watch the four of them bicker about what to carve in the side of it. He didn't have a preference. He simply enjoyed the closeness and the hint of normalcy the evening provided.
He had a family now. He didn't need a pumpkin to keep the monsters at bay.
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Happy Halloween, you guys. Be safe~