Before Cinder came into my life, I honestly hadn't cared much for Reaping Day, Remnant's answer to Halloween. True, Atlas was not the most religious of nations to begin with, but they still put on one hell of a parade. Not to the scale of the one that they put on for Year's End, but entirely enjoyable enough.

Reaping Day itself was split between Daylight and Moonlight hours. Starting from sunrise, celebrants..well, celebrate. Bright colours and music and good food (including cheap alcohol) filled the streets as people let down the austere and Atlesian demeanour and just came together to party one last time before the nights grew long, and the harsh Atlesian winter set in.

The night however, is another story. Gone were the bright colours. Gone was the music. Gone was the joy. In its place, a sombre and respectful calm. Candles were placed in windows to burn throughout the night, and Mistralli style lanterns were traditionally sent up at midnight.

Children, at least in recent decades, wore costumes during the day. Not of wild animals or 'monsters', but Grimm. Admittedly I am uncertain of the reasoning, but if I understand things correctly, it was in the belief that it made the Grimm 'less scary' to children.

Which was why Cinder was currently sitting on our couch in a Beowolf onesie, with a thoroughly confused look on her face.

"Mister Casper?" She questioned curiously. "Why am I…?"

"It's for Reaping Day, Little Cinder." I told her with a smile, and held out a hand to her. Predictably, she jumped to her feet and trotted over to me, slipping her hand into mine and giving me a small smile. Whilst I am still something of a 'security blanket' to her outside of the apartment we call home, in recent months at least, inside it she is comfortable enough to stray from my side. "A big festival. There'll be lots of people, so you'll need to stay close."

"Oh." She hummed. "Okay, Mister Casper."

Five minutes. It took us all of five minutes to travel from Epsilon Heights to the inner city. We heard the celebrations before we saw it, the wall of sound consisting of music and cheering and countless conversations mixing into one. We followed a steady stream of people heading towards the Festival, and thankfully I even spotted a few other children, dressed up as tiny Grimm.

I glanced to my side. Cinder's eyes were wide with a curious glee, although her grip on my hand had tightened. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea to bring her to a mass gathering given her skittishness. True, she had been getting better, but this was probably the largest gathering she'd ever been to.

So I led her over through the throng of people to a quieter area of the celebrations, the part with all the markets. And the food. I mentally noted. It hadn't taken long for the both of us to begin our feast of baked treats..and coffee.

I have a feeling we'd both need caffeine today. And one coffee was unlikely to hurt her.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, it was some hours later that we got home. Cinder all but collapsed onto the couch. The day of wandering aimlessly and just milling about and enjoying the atmosphere had exhausted the five year old.

I smiled fondly at the sight, and moved to go and fetch her blanket from her room. If she needed to take a nap on the couch, it might as well be in comfort.

I'd watch the lanterns on the News later, as I doubt Cinder would appreciate being woken up at midnight to see that, wondrous as the sight might be.

I would quietly light a candle, however.

I had left people behind on Earth, after all.