Wynter's Tales

Remembrance of the Dead

In the dark of the night,

We remember those who never saw a new day

The wind howled louder, and Nattie stopped to look at the sky. It was not six yet, and it would be another two hours before the light broke through the black sky. Then the light would not last long as the night sky closed in at around five.

Today was her day off from ‘The Owl Toad Mole Curios Store’. She, and her friends, Molly Owl, and Nellie Mole, opened the store soon after arriving at Gwaine Wood. The stock they sold, Sorrel brought back from her travels, and this was why the store was popular.

An owl hooted, pulling Nattie out of her reverie. She was a day dreamer and often lost track of time as she remembered either the past or had fancy notions about the future. A future which until last month she had doubts about thanks to Molly's warning and Jorge's disappearance. A shiver rocked through her, and she pulled her forest green cloak tight around her body as she thought, was their future still safe as Valkul had assured them?

Valkul, Cyn's brother, usually resided at court, but had visited Gwaine Wood and several surrounding villages last month. He had come to put the residents’ minds at ease, and he had. However, the meetings between Lavender, Cyn, and Nellie continued, and Jorge and Violet still had not returned from their travels. They have been absent eight - nine weeks now without a word been heard from them.

Sorrel had returned. Her stay brief before she returned to the other world to gather more news. To find other scouts who might have knowledge on what may be awaiting them in the future. She was due back soon. Hopefully she should be back in time for the Celebration of Peace. It was a shame she would miss the Remembrance of the Dead. And thanks to a war that lasted a millennia, they had plenty of dead to remember.
Nattie had her long-time partner to remember. Even though she died a long time ago, Nattie never forgot Mageana. Neither did she forget her sister or her sister’s partner, Tristan's parents. But their death had been relatively more recent. The children and people of Gwaine Wood aged slowly in this world, and it would still be several centuries before Tristan matured into a full grown up. Nattie did not mind this as she enjoyed his company. Even if he did get into the most unexplained predicaments.

The owl hooted once more. ‘I'm coming, Claude,’ Nattie said as she looked ahead to the glow of lights seeping from a window of the cottage she was heading for. Nattie hurried her steps and soon she was knocking on Eabha's door.

'Come in, Nattie. I've just boiled some eggs and toasted some bread. Have breakfast with me.'

Nattie stepped into the kitchen, removing her cloak as she went to stand by the kitchen fire to warm the old chill out from the marrow of her bones. 'Egg and toast sounds delightful. Do you have any jam?'

'Freshly made blackberry. We had a great harvest this year.' Eabha said as she poured tea in two cups.

Now she was warm, Nattie sat on a kitchen chair and sliced the top of her egg open. The yoke was runny, and Nattie's stomach rumbled. 'I must confess, I left my house before I had time to eat.’ She looked at Eabha. 'If Tristan had seen me, he would have wanted to come.’

Eabha chuckled, ‘He would have been disappointed. Fallon is out. How are Nellie and Molly?' she asked.

Nellie licked her lips. As delicious as breakfast was, there was a reason for her visit. 'They're in good health but are worried about Jorge and Violet.' Nattie glanced around the table. Then she looked steadily at Eabha. 'You are leading the Remembrance of the Dead service?'

Eabha nodded.

'I was hoping.’ Nattie glanced out of the window then back at Eabha. 'I know they’re not dead. But I was hoping you could remember them in the service,' she said.

Eabha smiled. 'It's unusual, and I agree with you, neither Jorge nor Violet are dead. And we shall remember them along with our ancestors. Wish them a safe journey home.’

Nattie smiled. 'Thank you. It’s a bit of a worry not hearing from them.' Then she frowned. 'Especially after Daffy's disappearance.'

Eabha glanced out of the window. 'Yes, Daffy's disappearance. It is strange.’ Then Eabha smiled. 'You know she didn’t go off on her pilgrimage. When things worried her, this is what she did. And she always returned, happier, calmer.' Eabha’s smile deepened. 'As though she had found peace with herself and found a solution to her problems.'

'But she was never gone long?' Nattie frowned. 'After the service, Nellie is taking one of her trips to Robin's Down. I just hope she's not gone too long.'

Eabha nodded. 'This is when we could do with Violet. She would put everyone at ease with the simple turn of a card.'

With her gaze turned to the window, Nattie nodded as she finished her tea. The dark of the night had faded and now a dull steady grey mist hung in the air. 'Thank you for breakfast,' she said as she stood. 'I best be returning home.' She giggled. 'I plan to clean the lounge. To have it ready to put the lights up once the Remembrance of the Dead service is over.'

Eabha accompanied Nattie down the path. When they reached the trees to Gwaine Wood, they stopped. 'Death and light. Both celebrations so close. It's just how it should be. I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'm sure you have your own prayers to say,' Eabha said.

Nattie reached over and kissed Eabha on the cheek. 'Don't I always,' she said. Then she was scurrying down the path leading into Gwaine Wood. It would be another hour before she reached her cottage.

'Where have you been Aunt Nattie?' Tristan asked as Nattie stepped into her garden.

Lost in her thoughts, Nattie glanced at her nephew. He had gathered the autumn leaves from the path and was jumping on them as he kicked them, scattering them far and wide again, ready for him to sweep up and start the game again.

'My head was aching when I woke. So, I decided to go for a walk.' She chuckled as she ruffled Tristan's mousey brown hair. 'And I ended up having breakfast at Eabha's.'

'Was Fallon there?' Tristan asked as he followed Nattie into the cottage.

'No, he was hunting with Lucian,' Nattie said as she sat in a chair. Then proceeded to pull her walking boots off. Once her toes were free, she gave them a wiggle then raised them to the glow of flames coming from the kitchen stove.

'We've a long day ahead of us, Tristan. Have you written your prayer for tomorrow’s service?' Nattie asked.

'I wrote a poem and stuck a yellow rose in it.' He pulled the parchment from his trouser pocket. The faint tainted hemp parchment was wrapped around a pressed flower. 'It was the first one to bloom in your garden this summer,' Tristan said. He looked at Nattie, 'Mamma would have liked the yellow rose when it was fresh in bloom.'

Nattie nodded. 'Yes, she would.'

Nattie gave herself a shake. With the recent unrest, Jorge's long absence and the Remembrance of the Dead service approaching, she often found herself falling silent as she reflected over the unrest. She would like to say she was over it. But she knew there was much more to it. The weather was changing. The days were growing shorter. She enjoyed it. Most of the time, at the end of the day, she would light the fire pit, switch on the outdoor lights and study the stars. This was when she was at her most contented and this is just what she planned to do later.

Nattie settled in her favourite garden chair. The firepit was burning away, bringing some heat into to the slight chill in the air. She had a piece of battered fish, and some fried potato. The fish was good, but not as good as the trout Jorge often caught and brought round to cook and share with everyone.

'Evening, Nattie,' Ruby said as she approached the gate.

'Hello Ruby, I've tea in the pot. Would you like a cup?'

Ruby stepped into the garden and settled on the hammock. 'It's very quiet - Isn't it,' she said.

Nattie glanced down the street. Lights of various shades of yellow illuminated the other cottages. But apart from her and Ruby, there was no other person about. 'I like it like this.' Then she chuckled. 'And I like the spring when everyone’s popping about and saying hello,' she said. 'And the summer when the visitors chatter fills the air.'

'And Tristan’s not underfoot.'

'He does miss Lavender's nephew, Scarl, especially as he doesn't see much of him over the autumn and winter months.

'Some say he’s a great help to her.' Ruby said.

Nattie nodded. 'He's a bit like Sorrel. He loves the lore. He loves been told about the past, and Lavender does enjoy talking about the past.' Nattie sipped her tea. 'I think it's the only way he gets to connect with his parents. To remember them. He was just a baby when we left Merriathan, our homeland’

Ruby nodded as she looked at her hands. 'It wasn't until after Valkul's visit I thought of home. I haven't in a long time.' She looked around her. 'With Daffy missing and Jorge and Violet still on their travels. Now I have - Do you think it's safe to return?' she asked.

Nattie looked around her. At her small cottage. She has the store and her friends. She shook her head. ‘I'm happy here and have no desire to return to Merriathan.'

Ruby nodded. 'It's been a funny year. And you know we will remember our dead. Remember the sacrifices they made. I'm feeling a little weary,' she chuckled. 'I don't like change, Nattie. And I feel as though everything is changing,'

'Molly said the same. And she's not happy about Nellie returning to Robin's Down after the service.

Ruby stood and placed her empty cup on the garden table. 'I might accompany her. I've friends I haven't spoken to in a while.'

Nattie watched Ruby stroll down the street until she was out of sight. Then on a sigh, gathered her plate and cups. Then went inside.

'Nattie, we thought you'd never make it,' Molly said.

From beneath her basket lid, Nattie withdrew three jars. Inside them were the pucks who had escaped at the Celebration of Fire, last May. 'I had to go back and fetch these. I clear forgot them. Then it took me an age to find them from beneath the blankets in the basement.'

'I know what you mean,' Molly said, holding her basket out, inside were four jars, each containing a soul. 'I can't believe so many slipped through the veil.'

'Well, their mischief is over, and Eabha will gladly send them back,' Nellie said.

Molly glanced at the jars. 'They definitely brought bad luck with all the needless gossip that engulfed the village this summer,' she said.

It was several hours since the bonfire was lit, and Nattie watched it burn. She was not the only one staring into the flames as people approached the fire and offered their gifts and parchments to be taken away on the air and through the veil to the land of the dead. From her pocket, Nattie withdrew the card she had written in remembrance of Mageana. Enclosed within it was a lock of Nattie's hair, and silently she approached the fire with Nellie, Molly, and Tristan. Together, they threw their gifts in to the flames. All silently reciting the words they had written on their parchments.

Several minutes passed in silence, then Nellie turned to Nattie. 'It was good of you to ask Eabha to remember Jorge and Violet.'

Nattie nodded. ‘Tonight was about remembering those who were absent as well as the dead,' she said.

©Wynter B Aodh 24

The Owl Toad Mole Publishing House™

BT66 8EY 2025 ©