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The whole world had gathered three days before the new year to discuss a truce.
They’d sat in a circle at spawn, tensions high. They had all agreed that there would be no fighting, no bloodshed, during the week of Rosh Hashanah. All of them were far past the point of redemption, but Rosh Hashanah, at least, didn’t have to be bloody.
As they were all getting ready to head back to their homes, Jimmy had stopped them. He pulled out a stack of papers and handed them out. “Dark oak challah,” he explained. “Scott and I have been making it every week. I think everyone has dark oak by now, but if you don’t, there are still plenty of trees by our place that you can get bark from.”
“There are lots of apple trees in the flower forest,” Scott said, his eyes bright. “Jimmy and I already have a ton, so please come over and pick some. Oh! And we have honey, if you need that too.”
“Seriously, we have way more honey than we could ever possibly use,” Jimmy added. “We’ve also got extra wheat. You don’t have wheat fields at Dogwarts, do you? Just carrots?”
“Just carrots,” Ren confirmed. “Thank you both. For your generosity, we can all have a proper Rosh Hashanah. If anyone wants carrots for the simanim, the gates of Dogwarts are open to you.”
“I’ve got tons of cod,” Tango volunteered. “I can get to work on beheadificating them.”
“Oh! We’ve got prickly pears if you need a new fruit!” Scar said excitedly.
“There’s a pumpkin patch near the Crastle,” Cleo said. “Bdubs and I can pick those.”
“I think I still have some beetroots from the village.” Impulse drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I’ll look for those.”
“I can make copies of some of my recipes, if anyone wants them,” Bigb offered.
“Oh, yes please!”
“How about we all meet at the flower forest tomorrow?” Grian suggested. “We can have, like, a little farmer’s market.”
“That’s perfect,” Scott agreed.
“If only we had a shofar,” someone murmured. The circle went quiet, a weary sadness in their souls. What was Rosh Hashanah without a shofar?
“Actually, we do have one,” Etho said. “I, uh, made one. Come to the White Castle; I’ll blow it for everyone.”
Everyone lit up. Etho yelped as Skizz tackle-hugged him, and everyone laughed. It felt like the beginning of the world again, before everything had been stained in blood and gore.
The next day, people came to the flower forest to find a little market set up outside Scott and Jimmy’s gates.
There were several simple wooden tables set up, with cloth covers. One had bushels of wheat, so many that several had fallen off the side. Another had glass jars of honey in every size, each with wooden lids and little wooden honey dippers.
By noon, most of the tables had been filled. There was one with tons of fresh carrots, another with beheaded cod, and another with prickly pears and kiwis and strawberries (the latter two which Scott and Jimmy had been growing). There was a table with pumpkins, one with fresh beetroot, and one with stacks of papers (mostly Bigb’s recipes, but a few others had provided some). Grian and Scar had found a date tree, and nobody was sure where Skizz had found pomegranates but they were happy to have them. There was one table with baskets of apples, and one with candles and wine that Jimmy and Scott had made.
Grian and Martyn were climbing the trees to toss apples down to Etho, who was collecting them in baskets. Impulse and Jimmy were helping Skizz open the pomegranates and put all the seeds into little jars, and Scott was showing Bigb how to make a flower crown. Scar, Ren, Joel, Bdubs and Tango were playing tag, while Cleo was taking a nap in the sun.
None of them had felt like this- safe and warm, surrounded by friends- not in a long while. Maybe not ever.
On Rosh Hashanah, people wandered in and out of the White Castle, either to hear shofar or just to talk to Etho. At one point, Scar, Ren, Joel, Bdubs, and Tango were all there at once, and they restarted their game of tag.
Etho watched them run around, taking a bite of his dark oak challah. He felt like maybe, just maybe, they had a chance at a sweet new year.