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Cold wind blew across the path, sending orange and brown leaves swirling around the statues of the Seven. Voices mingled with the howl of the wind, students running past, no few of them in colorful costumes. Skully smiled.
It had been a long time since he had managed to visit Night Raven. He hadn’t meant for it to be likely the last thing he would do, but in a way, it also felt fitting. This was the place he had found his passion, after all. And clearly, the traditions he had helped put in place had remained.
“Hey, it’s him!” a voice made him turn. He expected to see the Headmaster, who would likely be one of the few still remaining who would remember him. He envied the fae their long lives. But instead, he spotted a pair of beastmen, one of whom ran up to him holding a Jack-O-Lantern, it’s face carved in a crooked grin.
“I saw your picture in the library! The King of Halloween! Can you show us your unique magic?” the bright-eyed student asked. “You’re the one who first invented these, right?” The fox beastman held up the Jack-O-Lantern for inspection. Next to him, his dog beastman friend wagged his tail.
Skully frowned at the sight of the Royal Sword Academy uniform the dog beastman wore. Night Raven opened to up to all sorts of potential visitors on Halloween, a tradition begun a few short years ago. When Skully had been a student—by the Seven, had it really been nearly 70 years ago?-- having an RSA student here would be unthinkable. Then again, the open campus policy on Halloween was how he was able to visit tonight. It wouldn’t do to be too fussy about tradition.
“Well, yes, I suppose I can show you,” he said, shifting his weight on his cane. His leg hurt all the time now, but he hid the wince of discomfort. “But there wouldn’t be much point in turning something that’s already a Jack-O-Lantern into a Jack-O-Lantern, would it?”
The fox beastman flicked his ears. The dog beastman tilted his head in confusion.
“Light the lanterns,” Skully intoned, and then in the place of the dog beastman sat a new Jack-O-Lantern.
“Ah! Cooper!” The fox beastman yelled, then laughed. “You still have floppy carved ears!”
Skully chuckled, then it shortly turned into a cough, and he stifled it with a hand. With a flick of magic, he turned the student back, and the dog beastman shook his head. “Hey!” he said, his voice a growl.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Cooper,” the fox beastman said. “It’s Halloween!”
“My RSA friends warned me you NRC guys were crazy,” Cooper said with a shake of his head, his long ears swaying.
“Come on! Let’s go check out the party by the gym!” the fox beastman said. “It’s only one night, and I hear they have a huge bonfire!” With a wag of his tail, he waved to Skully. “See you around, old man!”
“Tod, you shouldn’t say that about your elders—wait up!” Cooper yelled at Tod ran off.
Skully sighed. The youth today were certainly disrespectful. When he had been a youth, he had been prone to giving respectful kisses on the hand, but that had fallen out of style too. Kids today were much more keen on things like shaking hands instead. How dreary.
Or maybe that opinion was just his age showing. Skully limped along the path, taking in the sights. Candles burned along the pathway, the flickering firelight illuminating the statues. Jack-O-Lanterns were placed along it too, their glow strangely cheery with their grinning mouths. As he passed by, a student waved his hand, and an illusion of spiderwebs decorated the trees nearby.
No, not his hand. A magestone glowed in a pen he held.
Magestone pens. A new invention, Skully supposed, but it somehow seemed familiar. He watched as the student, dressed in the finery of Pomefiere, moved on to decorate another tree.
“Ah, I should have known,” a familiar voice said, and Skully turned. “Some students were saying an…elderly gentlemen was exploring the campus.”
“I’m sure those weren’t the words they used,” Skully said with a wry smile. Once, the Headmaster appearing out of nowhere would have startled him, but years of putting on Halloween festivities had made Skully quite immune to scares. “I wasn’t sure I would run into you.”
“Here to see the fruits of your once-labor?” the Headmaster said. He stretched out an arm, indicating the cheerily lit pathway. “It is quite beautiful, isn’t it? Though I do fret about the sheer number of candles. Such a fire risk! Perhaps one day we’ll have a better solution for light than flame.”
“The risk is part of the fun,” Skully said. “And the fun is what’s important, isn’t it?” More students ran past, and a group led a horse-drawn wagon laden down with wood. Presumably, it was for the bonfire.
“You know, you didn’t always think that way,” the headmaster said. “I remember you as a little freshman, complaining bitterly about your dorm assignment, and how no one understood your desire for solemn reflection!” he put his hands up dramatically. “Oh, you were a sorry sight until you changed your mind!”
Skully felt his face redden. “Those days are best left in the past,” he said. “Everyone is foolish when they’re young.”
“What did change your mind?” the headmaster asked. “It was rather sudden. I stopped getting all those complaints.”
Skully looked up at the sky, and the splash of stars that stretched across it. In the distance, someone played an instrument, and smoke from the bonfire began to mar the stars. “You know, I never quite figured it out,” he said. “It was…a day at the library. That’s all I really remember.”
“The library? That’s all?”
“All I can remember.” The same frustration that he had felt came back, a distant echo. He had struggled with that for years—A feeling, like something very important had happened, and he had forgotten it. It had changed his life, changed his perception, had set him on the path he had traveled—the King of Halloween, a bringer of new traditions, of light and laughter and fun on Halloween—but he didn’t know exactly how it had begun.
As he had gotten older, he had stopped worrying. Maybe it was just another symptom of his advancing age, or he had known it at one time and forgotten it due to his illness. That didn’t feel right, but he also knew pursuing the memory was pointless. It wasn’t something he would get back.
“Well, regardless of the reason, your influence truly has changed our campus.”
“For the better?” Skully added with a grin. In the distance, someone screamed, and then came the sound of laughter.
“Well, if it makes my students happy, I won’t complain,” the headmaster said. “I am generous, after all.”
Skully rolled his eyes. Then he coughed, the same cough that had plagued him for years and had only gotten worse.
The headmaster’s eyes glowed behind his mask. “I am glad you got to visit us one last time, Skully J. Graves,” he said. Skully’s heart thudded. Crows always knew.
But he knew too, and he wasn’t afraid of death. “I am too,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if I take a walk around.”
“Not at all,” Crowley said. “Enjoy yourself.”
Skully intended to. And his last night at Night Raven was more than worth it. The bonfire was piled high, and the lights, sounds, and music of Halloween danced in his mind as he laid down to sleep that night, resting in a small inn by the library on Sage’s Island.
It had been a good evening, but now his body ached, and his lungs felt tight. He was so tired.
He closed his eyes, and dreamed. And then dreamed deeper.
Visions went through his mind. His life. It played in reverse, from the party tonight and the cheery bonfire and dancing Jack-O-Lanterns, to the headmaster’s glowing eyes. He saw his travels, his spreading of the fun of Halloween, of old pranks, fun mysteries, and lessons on how to carve pumpkins, to scares in villages all over Twisted Wonderland. His reputation, people smiling when they saw him—the King of Halloween.
Before that, when he was young, he had been so gloomy. Solemn. And as his life played, as he slept one last time on Halloween night, his memory finally gave him what he had been looking for.
Halloween Town. Students from Night Raven, decked in finery from his era but clearly not of his era. A collection of students who used magestone pens. A lion beastman with an eyepatch, a man with long hair and a hat who was terrified of bugs, and a man with green hair who had convinced him to…
The memories came faster, deeper. Jack Skellington! He had met him, the patron of his village, in the flesh. Or more accurately, bones. Jack had been the one to show him what Halloween could be, and the other students had convinced him to listen. He had been childish, fixated on his own opinions, and hadn’t been willing to give things a chance.
But he had. He had learned what Halloween could be. He had spread the idea all over Twisted Wonderland. But before that, the other students had said goodbye. And he…
He hadn’t gone with them. He owed them so much, but he couldn’t.
The memory solidified, and grew even deeper. More than a dream.
The others had traveled through a tomb, and he had stayed behind.
“Are you going to go, Skully?” Jack Skellington had asked. Or maybe he asked now. Skully’s mind was losing track of present and past.
“I suppose I should,” he said. He was young again, 16. His leg no longer hurt. His lungs felt clear.
“There are plenty of places to explore!” Jack said, skeletal hands thrown wide. “Why not take a walk in the forest? I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
He had done that. He had walked through the forest, and emerged back in the library where he had found the book. There he had been filled with certainty. He had his job to do. The King of Halloween, the resolve burning all throughout his life, even as the memories had vanished.
But now, he kept walking. He passed by other trees, some marked with images he didn’t recognize. He walked past copses of fallen leaves, fresh snows, and spring meadows. His legs grew tired and heavy, and an urge to rest came over him.
As it did, he saw he had come full circle. The tree marked with the pumpkin lay in front of him.
Skully sat down by the tree, resting his head against the bark.
He knew what had happened. His memories of his life were complete, the missing pieces found.
It was time to finally rest.
***
When he opened his eyes, he felt lighter than he ever had. His body lay below him—old, decrepit. He had a good life. He had accomplished so much. He didn’t need it anymore.
Now, he felt…reborn probably wasn’t the right word. But hey, he could fly! Go through walls! Skully smiled, floating over the Night Raven campus, taking another look at the Halloween he had helped create. In the distance, other schools lay, and beyond that, the entire world. Now…he could go anywhere. He stretched his hands in front of him, and touched his face. He got the sense he looked the same as he had in Halloween Town, youthful and strong. He flicked his tongue in his mouth. Still missing teeth though.
Satisfaction glowed in his new ghostly form. He would spread the joy of Halloween for years—centuries—to come. And eventually, he was sure, he would find those Night Raven students from his final memories, unlocked after a lifetime.
He owed them quite the thank-you.
“BOO!” someone shouted.
Skully blinked.
The ghost that had appeared in front of him drooped, his hat sliding down his head. “You were supposed to be scared! I always get to scare the new arrivals!”
Skully laughed. “I’ve been involved with ghosts my entire life,” he said. “You’re going to have to do better than ‘Boo’.”
“Oh, yeah?” the ghost said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been dead what, ten minutes? Who do you think you are to tell me how to scare?”
“Me?” Skully said with a gap-toothed grin. “I’m the King of Halloween.” He put a translucent hand to his chest, his eyes glowing red. “And now that I’m dead, my job is even easier!”