☆ M A Y A ☆

There wasn’t much else he could do without the boar that was to be the heart of the evening meal so now he and Mokona were draping tinsel all over the house. Soon they would have to start lighting the candles. Honestly, what Fai wasn’t sure about was the sheer amount of candles and tinsel they had bought at the urging of the sales clerk. The local had been so eager to explain that today was Candlenight, which meant all houses needed to have candles in each window and all around the house with lots of colorful, shiny tinsel to greet in Aya—the locals god of light. If a house was not bright enough, the sales clerk had warned them, then misfortune would fall upon the house’s inhabitants for the next year or if there were no light at all then Raan, the god of night, would swallow them whole.

Syaoran’s eyes had lit up with interest and before Fai had blinked they had at least fifty candles and several pounds of neon blue, red, and silver tinsel. Kurogane had just sighed and paid the sales clerk.

That was a few hours ago and while the two had set off to do more research and find a traditional boar (the idea of which had made Kurogane less grumpy), Fai had been left in charge of decorations. So here he was, Mokona babbling on his shoulder, and a couple dozen candles in need of a careful eye and to be lit. While Fai was glad for Mokona’s company, she wasn’t as helpful with hanging tinsel or lighting candles as someone with opposable thumbs would be.

The spectacle of this Candlenights affair reminded Fai distantly of winter celebrations in his own homeland. They too had welcomed the end of winter on the year’s longest night. But there had been no great god of light to put an end to the ceaseless nights. It had been a different story, one now lost to his own memory. It was hard to put to words a concept that he hadn’t dared consider, or think about in the years since then.

He had fallen silent, just watching Mokona fail to layer tinsel over the top of the window when he started to whistle. A slight breeze lifted her up and she was able to happily, giggly spread the tinsel around.

“Maybe we should make a game of it, hm?” he suggested. Mokona readily agreed and he was able to banish thoughts of a long, lost home from mind as he whistled and directed Mokona’s flight around the small house.

 “In a lot of cultures they all tend to have something about the end of the colder months. Do you guys have any traditions like this back in Nihon?” Syaoran and Kurogane were about a mile out now from the center of town, deep into the snow coated forests, supposedly boar hunting. Syaoran had stopped expressing doubts they’d find any that were active and instead was quietly studying the ground as they walked.

Kurogane just sighed at Syaoran’s question, but he didn’t dismiss it out of hand. Did they have any traditions like this weird holiday back home in Nihon? There were several around the beginning and end of the year. Many of them he hadn’t personally paid much attention to while he’d been busy protecting the country (there was no use for parties with constant warfare) but…

Kurogane looked at the still fresh tracks, adjusted the borrowed and worn hunting bow on his shoulder, and said, “I never was a fan of celebrating but we have a decent amount of traditions.” A pause as he took a slow step forward in the snow and looked around the high arching pines and other evergreens around them before he asked, “There’s no colder months in a desert. What did you all do to mark the end of one year and start of another?”

Syaoran looked back at him and huffed out a big sigh. The air hung heavy for a moment before he spoke. “Oh, well… you know. We threw parties.” He smiled fondly and shoved his hands into his coat and then started stepping carefully around the tracks. “Everyone would dance and have fun. It was magical. But seeing all this… I wonder what it would’ve been like to see snow back when I lived in Clow?”

“Would’ve been a bad sign.”

“You’re not wrong.” Syaoran laughed. “Snow in the desert wouldn’t have been good. You don’t seem like you enjoy snow that much.”

“That obvious?” Kurogane shrugged, adjusting the hunting gear and then stepped quietly but quickly past Syaoran. “You hear that?” he asked in a low voice. Syaoran didn’t reply but stepped with him until they were both kneeling just behind a bush. Kurogane let the bow fall into his hands, pulling out two arrows as if on second thought.

Prowling lazily (drunkenly?) was a wild boar. Its fur was pitch black, faded slightly by the snow dusting it. It was sniffing and pawing at the ground as if searching for something.

Kurogane allowed himself a brief moment to say a prayer to the gods before sending his arrow straight through its eye and then as it turned to find them—sending his last through its heart.

“I have to say,” Kurogane said as he put another arrow through the boar, “that this holiday might be one I could do in the future.”

 Fai wasn’t sure which was more interesting. The black boar slung across Kurogane’s back, the blood streaks on Syaoran’s face, or the pleased grin on Kurogane’s face as he carefully settled the boar in the spot Fai had left cleared for this very reason. It was a interesting holiday all in service of a god of light. Sacrifice and light.

“Well, looks like you all had fun!” Fai clapped his hands and in unison with Mokona added, “Go wash up for dinner! Especially you, Kuro-hunter, you’re all grisly now!”

“Are you going to be able to really good the meat before midnight?” Syaoran asked as he stepped out of his boots and hung up his bloodied coat. (Really what had they done to this poor boar?)

Fai attempted to help Kurogane pull off his cloak as he waved a hand at Syaoran. “Of course, of course. I am a wizard. If I couldn’t do this much what good am I?”

“That implies you were ever any good,” Kurogane muttered. Kurogane failed to help Fai in his struggle to remove his cloak, choosing to stay still and unmoving. Very helpful, like.

“Hey, play nice, Kuro-daddy!” Fai placed a hand on on Kurogane’s hip and gave him a small pinch. “I’m so good, I’m the best you’ve ever had!”

“Uh, yeah, okay, no.” Kurogane shrugged off his hand and let the cloak fall to the floor. “I’m going to go bath.”

“I’ll go next then,” Syaoran said. That sorted, and without a backward glance at Fai, Kurogane walked away. Fai rolled his eyes and left the cloak where it had fallen.

“Well, if you’re going to stay messy you can help me with this, Syaoran.” Fai pointed at the boar and then at Syaoran. “What magic do you think I’m going to use?”

“We don’t need to do magic lessons today.” Syaoran pointed out. It wasn’t so much as a protest though as he quickly added, “Transfiguration.”

Fai bowed nice and low and then popped back up with a loud cry of, “My music, Mokona!”

“On it, Fai!”

With a pop beat playing, Fai let out a high whistle and then spread his hands out and got to work. A simple fire in the fireplace; a stick that as perfectly placed from one end of the boar to the other end (they would be eating boar in various ways for the next week, wouldn’t they?); and a brief pause to naturally season the meat, was all it took before Fai shook out his hair and said, “Okay, Kuro-papa should be done. Why don’t you go take your bath now?”

Syaoran cast a doubtful eye on the boar slowly, magically turning over the fire and then shrugged. “Sure.”

Mokona hopped down from the table and then up on Syaoran’s shoulder saying, “Me too! Me too!”

“Okay, sure.”

After they went up, as predicted, Kurogane came down. Gone was all the blood and gore of the hunt, and his black hair had lost most of its spikes. He looked softer for a moment as he walked down and then he saw the boar over the fire.

“Are you using magic to cook that?” Kurogane asked. He went to their fridge and pulled out one of his preferred beers. It was one of the few types he liked and any world they could find it in was one they would tend to linger in for a while. “That didn’t go so well last—”

“Oh, shush,” Fai said. “You know that was just because I was getting used to using magic again. Why don’t we let that one go, Kuro-puu, hmmm? I promise that this is only been made with enough magic to clean it and encourage it to cook a little faster and tastier.”

“That’s what you said the last time,” Kurogane said. He settled down on one of the borrowed chairs and took a nice, deep sip. Fai came over and took a seat on the table in front of him.

“Hey, last time went alright!”

“It tasted like ass.”

“Because it was an ass!” Donkey meat hadn’t been something he thought they would need to eat but when times were hard and you were in a desert a long way from the nearest town… needs must.

Kurogane grumbled some more so Fai just brushed a hand over his hair until it was completely dry and all spiked back up. Kurogane just silently drank his beer, letting Fai do what he wanted.

“What do you think of Candlenight?” Fai asked.

“Interesting.”

“Would you like to celebrate it again?”

“Told the kid I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Figured as much. It seems like it’s right up your alley. What with all the hunting and gathering and whatnot.”

“The lights seem like they’re up yours.” Kurogane picked up a piece of tinsel from the tabletop and then tied it around Fai’s wrist as Fai laughed.

“Why do you say that?”

Kurogane just let out a deep sigh. “Why do you think?”

“Hmm… is it because of how brightly I shine?”