When Faeries Dance
One would think that a celebration with the name "Feast of the Dead" would be a mournful and unpleasant day. With a name like that, it made some foreigners believe that it involved a sacrifice and perhaps dining on the flesh of the deceased for some ungodly reason they couldn't wrap their heads around—nor did they want to try to. Many avoided the region above Figaro because of these hushed rumors and would eye travelers from there warily as if they would rear up and attack them.
But in truth, the celebration was of the autumn harvests and the ending of the seasons of plenty. It was to celebrate the last days they had left before the frost took over the land and brought with it winter storms. It was believed that in those final days, the shroud between the worlds of the living and the dead lifted due to the seasons changing, so one of the most important parts of the festival was making offerings to the dead in exchange for blessings for a safe and easy winter.
It was Locke's absolute favorite time of the year.
He was practically bouncing up and down on the deck of the Falcon as Setzer set the course to Kohlingen. It took some convincing to get everybody on board with visiting his home village to participate in the festivities, but he managed to win everybody over with different tactics.
Terra was the easiest to convince because she was eager to learn as much about the world around her as she could. Waking up from the fitful sleep or trance or whatever Ramuh did to keep her in check when she was in her esper form gave her some of her memories back along with her father's. She knew that she had never joined in such a celebration before the slave crown and was intensely interested in the offerings part.
She followed him when he set off to find the Figaro twins belowdecks to help get them to agree. Sabin was a bit skittish about the dead people part, but Locke assured him that they wouldn't be dealing with any spirits like those from the Phantom Train. Maybe an angry grandparent, but no departed Imperials looking to bring unlucky Returners with them to the spirit world. When Sabin heard about how there was going to be a massive feast, he was sold. The guy had a bottomless pit for a stomach.
Edgar had joined in the celebration years before, soon after he met Locke, and had a not too pleasant encounter with a young lady who refused his hand for the dancing. He had to put ice on the slap mark on his face. After seeing how Sabin was looking forward to the feasting Edgar decided "why not?" Maybe he wouldn't have trouble finding a dance partner this time? He could try his chances with Terra or Celes. Or both!
Like Sabin, Cyan was apprehensive about the spirits being present part and Locke had to say again and again that they weren't going to eat people at the feast. ("Think of it like a big party! No human sacrifices involved!") And when Gau heard that there was going to be tons of food and dancing, he got so excited he ran in circles around Cyan making howling cheers.
Now Celes was the most difficult to persuade. Terra whispered softly in his ear that she vaguely remembered that Celes hardly attended any of the balls Emperor Gestahl threw. Terra went to every event because Kefka wanted to show off their matching costumes, and only saw Celes at the parties thrown to honor General Leo's achievements.
The ex-general didn't seem interested in the food or dancing at all, called it pointless. They had bigger fish to fry. They needed to keep searching and preparing to take down Kefka. They hadn't visited Narshe yet to pick the locks on all the buildings to see what they could find of use.
When he said, "Oh c'mon, we all haven't had any fun in ages! I think we deserve a break from all this serious business!" her jaw clenched tightly, and her glare could've withered a tree.
And here he thought she was ecstatic to have him back in the group. She looked like she was about to burst into tears when they found him in that cave.
Terra scrambled between them and added, "I agree with Locke, Celes. What if we don't have another opportunity to enjoy spending time together after we fight Kefka?" she gently took one of Celes's hands in hers. "Who knows what might happen?"
Bingo.
Celes's glare dropped immediately, and her eyes softened at Terra's words. She looked at their joined hands and with a sigh, said, "Well, okay. I'll go too."
Terra had become way too good at manipulating people over the past year. It must be a skill she had to develop to reign in so many children.
"Great!" Locke hugged them both, "I'll go tell everybody!"
And so, after a few days of flying northwest, Locke spotted Kohlingen. Even with the facelift Kefka gave the world, Locke recognized his boyhood village easily. The sun was reaching its zenith, so they had plenty of time to prepare for the festivities that began around sundown. He hurried belowdecks to scrub up.
The forest that closed in around the old houses had grown faded and some of the trees had fallen, but it still held that certain mystical quality which drew him in when he was young. It was his favorite place to hide from his grandmother when she got angry with him for knocking over her jars of herbs or messing up her current sewing project. She always told him to never go into the forest alone, bring at least one other person, you'll get spirited away if you don't listen to me young man. She refused to let him have any pecan or apple pie for days until he finally listened and started bringing his buddy Arcell with him. Then after Rachel's family moved in, they'd invite her to play too.
As children, they avoided going into the woods at night though. Once dusk started settling in, they would hurry home. Those warnings stuck with them despite how they tried to joke about the supposed monsters lurking in the shadows.
Locke led the group to his grandmother's old house that her colleague Mr. Wicker took over after her death to pick out some traditional accessories and outfits for the festivities.
"Damn Locke, why do you have all these clothes?" Sabin asked when he opened one of the leather-covered trunks in the back corner behind the small dining table. It was stuffed full of assorted garments and accessories that spilled out as soon as the lid lifted.
"Do you really have to ask?" Celes raised her brow at the prince. She was examining a glazed clay pot filled with jewelry on a nearby shelf.
A pale orange vest flew across the room and hit Sabin in the shoulder. "Your pants will be fine, but wear that too!" Locke ignored their comments and focused on finding the proper outfits everybody would need to fit in with the rest of the attendees. He didn't want to bother explaining that many of the Returners used his house as a place to store disguises and supplies back when their enemy was the Empire instead of Kefka.
People from the whole region were visiting to join the event, and Kohlingen was bustling with activity. Tables were already being set up at the edge of the forest and families were visiting the large cemetery to place their offerings of woven autumn blooms, small fruit tarts, and other various home grown or handmade trinkets that were enjoyed during the life of their loved ones. He would gather some flowers from the overgrown garden out back for his mother and grandparents and bring Rachel a pearl necklace he had been saving for her. He was going to avoid any lingering thoughts on her that night. Just place the necklace on the carved stone surrounded by creeping violets and enjoy the thought of her being pleased with the gift wherever she was now.
The pile of cotton tunics, billowy trousers, skirts, and dresses grew next to him. Seeing his friends all dressed up for such an exciting night made a grin spread on his face.
Maybe it was the mulled cider spiked with liquor, maybe it was stuffing himself with too many pumpkin-berry tarts—he'd figure it out later—but he could've sworn he saw a faded silvery figure swaying loosely in front of Terra while she spun with the other dancers. It wasn't a coordinated dance exactly, but it was the common type of dance where everybody couldn't help but spin and twirl together in dizzying waves around the ancient tree in the middle of the festivities. People would clasp onto each other's hands while they spun and swapped partners almost immediately in a sort of vine growing around the trunk of that gnarled old oak. More of the partygoers joined in the dancing every minute.
The fiddles and guitars played a fast-paced tune while mandolins and cellos provided the sweeping lower melody. No matter how many of these festivals Locke attended over the years, he could never get enough of the swelling and overwhelming music that compelled everybody to intertwine their arms before spinning and grabbing the hands of another partner. The end of the harvest had arrived, and the aching music knew what to do: provide the means for one last hurrah, instill a burst of energy into everything within reach—person, plant, creature hiding in the forest, the soil itself—and allow them to enjoy what was left of the season so they could face the storms ahead without fear.
Not far from Terra, he spotted Celes in the crowd, her amethyst skirts ruffled and rose with the dancing. She didn't look flustered anymore but enthralled. She was no longer pulling herself away from people but allowing herself to move along in the surge of dancers.
He spotted the twins at the other end of the tree, laughing together when Sabin deftly lifted a girl high while they whirled and placed her back on the grass before she seemed to register that she had been airborne. She laughed and reddened and everybody around them all whooped and hollered.
Another silvery figured appeared close by, following dancers with a too wide smile and blank eyes. He could make out pointed ears and a foxlike tail through the bodies.
He needed a better look. Locke sat down his goblet of cider on a nearby table and rushed over to grab the nearest dancer's hands, forcing himself into the writhing chain of people. The thread he joined brought him gradually closer to where Terra was spinning, blushing, laughing with every turn and change of direction.
Now that he was in the throng, the music seemed to be amplified. The drumming kept his head from getting swimmy with the movements with its steady rhythm. As he moved closer, he finally realized what that special zing in the air that accompanied the festival truly was.
It wasn't the moonshine or the feverish joy from the crowd, but magic. His grandmother was right. Magic mingled in the forest surrounding of their sleepy farming village. Terra was practically radiating magic from her pores, and it blended into the night along with the wispy gray smoke of the bonfires. The mysterious tendrils of energy that he had always struggled with grasping from magicite before flooded everything. Was this how she and Celes always felt? And Strago and Relm too? Connected, like truly connected with the ground with every step as if roots zigzagged out of his feet and spread around before retracting and doing it all over again? Connected with the sighing branches of the trees overhead? He could almost hear the trees breathing above the flurry of noise.
More misty shapes appeared throughout the crowd, swaying and moving along in time with the music, too long arms and spidery fingers splaying in the air. How was nobody else seeing them?
He was breathing too hard to gape when he was pulled up close to one that would tower over Sabin with large bat wings flaring and what looked like the legs of an elk. Its eyes were cut outs, like the eyes on the different gourds people carved up to make silly and scary faces glow in the dark by a candle hidden inside. It grinned down at him showing wolf teeth.
The next turn, he saw Relm smiling, saying something to another of the figures which was long and slender, seeming to be wearing robes with long cuffs and a curled nose before she got whisked away.
He finally reached Terra, his part of the vine of dancers passing hers in the spiral around the tree. A wave of magic splashed in his face when she saw him and smiled, "Locke! There you are!" Her minty curls and scarlet ribbons sailed in her wake with her movements, "Isn't this so amazing? You didn't tell me the festival was this much fun!"
"You can see them too, right?" he wished the dancing would slow so they had a chance to talk longer!
"They're nice! Don't worry!" came her reply as they both got carried away in opposite directions in the curling vine of people. That didn't make him feel at all better though. The fact that nobody else besides those with magic could see them made his mind reel. Had these odd beings danced at every revel? Were these the monsters in the woods that the village elders warned children about? They didn't seem to be espers because they were silhouettes, not corporeal. They were more like shadows. People didn't seem to feel them either when they moved through them.
Turns out, dancing through one of those figures sent a shrill spike of ice straight through the gut as if he'd been shot with an arrow. Locke didn't even know he was about to pass through one of them until the cold hit and he saw the figure during the next spin. It didn't seem angry at him at least. Why did they have such huge creepy teeth?!
By the time the cold left his system, he was passing by Celes's section of the dancers. She was talking to the silhouette of a woman about her height with long wavy hair that stopped at the small of her back. She wasn't quite as see-through as the other creatures. When she spun with Celes, Locke caught a glimpse of a pearl necklace.
Magic seeped out of Celes when he got closer. Her eyes met his before looking back at the figure in front of her. With the next spin, it was Rachel who faced him. She didn't turn back around to look at Celes like before.
Her eyes were cutouts like all the other creatures dancing, but her smile was small and warm and only for him. She was wearing the same dress she died in, same bandana tying part of her hair back, and the necklace was the brightest part of her.
It took him a moment to find his voice, "Glad you like the pearls, Rach." She swayed and followed him along through the winding line of people. The scent of lavender that always accompanied her washed over him while they danced.
Rachel touched the necklace at her throat and then stepped closer to whisper, "Thanks love. I'll always love the gifts you've given me."
Instead of grief burning in his chest like every other time he's seen her in recent years, Locke's heart ached. But it was a tender, sweet sort of ache. She was finally free of that basement and now danced with him at their favorite festival of the year just like when they were children.
