Tamah, practically crawling over several other people, seemed to perch on Diego and Ka'lani's shoulders, covering them both in smears of recently carved charcoal. There were a few excited yelps and "Hey!"s, along with some disapproving stares from a couple of the village elders, but that didn't seem to slow the excited girl at all.
"Sorry I'm late." she added quickly and started to try and push Ka'lani to the side.
"Sit down." her mother in a quiet, yet firm.
"I'm trying!" Tamah commented between grunts. "Ka'lani won't move."
Ka'lani, inspired by her sister's desires, anchored herself in place. Diego received a well place elbow and a hip in the face for Tamah's efforts though.
"I'm already sitting here." Ka'lani shot at her little sister. "Find another spot."
"Friends! Family!" the Eldest called out from in front of the fire.
"Move Kay!" Tamah tried again.
"You move."
"Sit. Down." Samaria said one more time, the warning in her voice palpable.
"Fine! Finefinefine." Tamah remarked and quickly carved out a spot between Diego and his mother.
There were a few excited whispers here and there, primarily for similar reasons as the final people found their spots and settled in as Tamah had. Diego, for the most part, ignored Ka'lani's little sister as she nestled into the sand next to him. Tula gave her a reassuring pat on the head.
"Friends." the Eldest again called out, this time louder and with more expectation for their attention. "Family."
This time, everyone listened, and quieted.
Asim Walker was the oldest man in the village and colloquially referred to as 'The Eldest'. The title meant little with regards to actual decision making for the village other than a recognition of having ticked off the most years, yet there was still honor to it. While the Elders acted as a group to make help lead and govern, the four other elders, including Koula, Thomas, Jidalgo, and Hecate, had a tradition of allowing The Eldest to lead in the ceremonies. It was a matter of respect after all; anyone who managed to survive to such a ripe old age was clearly doing something right.
Diego couldn't help but think that the man's stature helped a little as well when it came to commanding respect. Powerfully built despite his age, Asim had once been one of the most well-known and decorated warriors in the village and bore the scars to prove it. While his skin was a deep charcoal color and his hair was shock white, the man bore two, ragged claw marks that tore across his torso in bright red, swollen lines.
"A parting gift from an aka-akua." he once told the children. "A way to remind me what hides in the dark."
"Friends." the Eldest called in his deep, booming voice. "Let us bow our heads in prayer...and begin."
One hundred and nine heads bowed deep til foreheads met sand. The action was smooth, practiced, and simultaneous between the young and the old, the wise and the stupid, women and men alike. They were one in their purpose and in their solidarity.
"In the dark of the night..." Asim began.
"The shadows wait." the village answered in one, tremulous tone.
"And in the shadows..."
"The aka-akua feed."
"So may we never falter..."
"And may the Pyre burn."
"For we are the chosen of the Gods..."
"And we will outlast the night."
"Until the world stops turning..."
"We shall outlast."
"May the sun never set..."
"And the light shine eternal."
One by one, the villagers lifted their head from the sand.
Despite having done this ceremony the same way every month, the initial prayer always had the same result. Sobriety. Sorrow. Frustration. Sadness. Determination. And many, many more emotions that couldn't be so simply calculated. Jaws were hard clenched, tears occasionally ran freely, some even shook, but all stared at the Pyre in quiet reverence as they mulled over the words they had just repeated.
The ever burning flame was their single, stalwart defense. Even as the fog and the darkness threatened to choke out the torches that burned along the fireline, it was the Pyre that was their only true defense. No matter if anyone took their safety for granted throughout the month, laughed and played in the sunlight or even challenged death and walked freely in the moon-filled nights with a torch in hand, the prayer always reminded everyone exactly where they stood when darkness fell.
While they may live on an island, the time they felt the most isolated was in that deep, darkness of the moonless night.
"Rise, my friends." Asim said softly, though his voice carried across the crowd.
It was not a command, but a request. A call to pull themselves from their stupor and rejoin the living as their minds drifted to the dead that wandered the black beaches of night.
"As always," Koula began, speaking just as loud as Asim so all could hear, "we will start with the avatars."
While their was no preset order, no decided upon way or enforced means of distribution, the village always followed the same path. Like a corkscrew working its way out, the innermost villagers stood and walked to the Pyre with their charcoal avatars in hand. The elders, who were standing in a star formation around the flames, passed their hands over the avatars and offered a blessing, or perhaps a spell of some kind, Diego had never known, before the villager tossed the avatar into the fire. This continued until the very last avatar at the very edge of the village center had been burned.
Next, those with the with the name markers stood up. And then the smudge sticks after that. Each one was solemnly taken to the blaze, blessed, and then thrown into the roaring inferno. Every villager only carried one of the different tokens and, by the time the last smudge was burning, every single person had walked by the warm, searing light of the ever-burning fire.
When the last person sat, the charcoal avatars were already smouldering and the recently tossed smudge sticks produced a thick, fog-like smoke that drifted up and out in every direction. The smoke seemed to try, and succeed, to fill every hole, to touch every pocket of air, and to expand like a slowly-inflating bubble that worked its way out to the fireline of the village.
The incense burned their eyes and dulled their noses and senses, but no one would ever complain. While Diego had never dared watch it, he knew that once the smoke reached the fireline and the fog beyond, both clouds would stop; neither daring to move past the other. It would form a blockade against the evil that lay beyond.
At least, that's what they hoped.
The villagers seemed to hold their collective breath as a moment past.
Then another.
The fire burned and the smoke billowed and all around, the world was still.
Until.
SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
The enraged cry of defiance was the signal they had waited for. The warriors who had been waiting at the edges of the group relaxed their tensed muscles, knowing that there would be no battle tonight. No fleeing into the dark to take the fight to the monsters the hid in the fog and the shadows.
The spells had worked.
The beasts could not get in.
And so the village stood and they cheered. As long and as loud as each of them could.
They were safe for another month.
