[Virgil Marks]

A clock chimed faintly through the air as Virgil made ready. It was the first day of the Nox and a few of the shopkeepers had plans to begin making the lanterns and prayer vessels for the upcoming festivities. He’d prepared several baskets for the outing, two with food and another with building supplies, double checking said basket to make sure he’d gotten everything Katrine had asked for.

Flicking a glance out the stained-glass windows of his shop, a small smile flashed across the pale man’s face. As he caught sight of his fellow shopkeeps, he suppressed a laugh as he noticed the look of polite confusion on Sasan’s face. It was obvious the man was trying to understand another weird concept being brought to him by the ever-confusing cyborg Kaimid.

Scooping up the three laden baskets, Virgil used his hip to bump open the old oak door of his shop, listening as it jingled merrily behind him. He strolled to the approaching group, sending a smile Katrine’s way, and giving a nod to Lesallia, who was helping an excited Sebastian carry two stuffed baskets of food, most of which was probably high in sugar.

[Katrine Dmitriev]

Sniggering quietly into her hand, Katrine listened as Sasan tried to understand how Kaimid had gotten the idea of him needing to buy the planet to become more organic. It really wasn’t fair to laugh at their friend, but sometimes the guy just had the most ridiculous ideas.

Dirt and gravel scraped underfoot as they made their way toward the old willow tree near Fakir’s shop. It really wasn’t the most ideal place, but their shops were so full of new products they didn’t have much choice in the matter.

She laid the two material baskets down and took a peek at Sebby and Kaimid, both looking a bit confused. “Does everyone understand how to make these? I can help if you need some direction.”

A kind smile flitted across her face as both boys threw their hands up at her question. “Okay, now here’s how you do it, you just pop this bit in here and then fold this side here and add some glue there and you’re done!” The small boat fluttered lightly in the wind as she showed them the finished product.

“Why do we make lanterns and boats? Don’t they mean the same thing?”

[Lesallia Surish]

Blinking at the squirrel-boy’s question, which wasn’t really a strange question coming from one so young, Lesallia explained that the Vessels were used to remember the dead, to send them messages of love and to them let them know they hadn’t been forgotten, while the lanterns were for the recently passed, to help guide them to Toamna.

“What do you do if you do not have someone to send them to?”

Popping another finished lantern into the pile, she turned to the cyborg and handed him a paint set. “Well, then you send them to the ones who have no family left. It’s what I do every year. As both my parents are alive and I’ve never known the rest of my family, I decided to make sure even the smallest soul was remembered.”

A gentle wind rocked the hanging limbs of the old willow as everyone let those words sink in. It was admirable really, as the woman had forsaken her kin and moved to the small township to start anew. They knew it had been a hard transition for Lesallia, who wore vibrant clothing and walked like a dancer in dressy heels, even in the most putrid of weather.

[KAIMID 9001]

Hearing Lesallia’s explanation he inwardly smiled, knowing with every wire of his circuitry he’d give his lanterns to those that he and Fakir had toyed with when they were still Sentinels. He realized with every passing day that the mistakes they had made needed to be repented for, the wandering souls who cried for vengeance against them needed to be appeased. Perhaps he could help them on their travels to Toamna this way, guide them gently to the light of the heavenly moon.

His human eye wandered to his little companion, who was using her fat bushy tail as a paintbrush and smearing bright colors over one of the many completed vessels. He could do that, painting wasn’t hard right? Even an old Sentinel like him could paint. Maybe the bright colors would help guide those souls to the moon.

He saw Virgil give a smile as he nodded toward Furball, before speaking. “I lost three of my friends from childhood. We were... close. And I was so young. My boats are for them.”

Nodding at the sentiment, he picked up Furball’s newly painted vessel and placed a few golden star stickers on the bow, thin lips upturned in a smile as his little companion chirped in happiness at its finished product.