Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Void was dead, to begin with. The why was a mystery. He was not ill, nor was he suicidal. The infirmary nor any of its staff had needed to treat him for injury. Yet, he was dead. Discorporated. The water ghoul leaving no note, but instead a sizable puddle on the bathroom floor. Dead as a door-nail.

While I do know what, in fact, makes a door-nail dead. Deader than a coffin-nail, for example. That isn’t what we are here for. Except to emphasize that Void the water ghoul is as dead as the door-nails of old.

He was one of Secondo’s ghouls. One of the first to pledge loyalty to the second Emeritus son. Loaned to Primo to play bass for Ghost when the project was resurrected.

Did Secondo know Void was dead? Of course he did. He had the dubious honor to be the one that found the puddle on the floor. Was the one to say “Void is dead” out loud to an empty room. Hoping his White Eye would ping it as a lie. It did not, of course. As such, Secondo was the one to make the rounds and inform the clergy of Void’s passing. Secondo was the one to lead the funeral and see Void honored and his life celebrated.

I say all this to follow tradition. For, as Mr. dickens said when emphasizing that Marley was equally dead: This must be distinctly understood, or nothing that follows will seem wondrous.

Secondo, as a rule, already did not like the Yule season. He was a wounded, miserable, bitter, pessimistic old man. Hard and sharp as a flint, very few saw any hint of a softer side. One would have an easier time pulling out healthy teeth with bare hands. And the holiday season only saw to make him sharper. To lose one of his ghouls during the season was a black mark on an already hated season.

It is why on this night our story starts, Secondo was holed up in his office. Very much alone. Having skipped all services and other traditions for the past two days.

As, pardon a further explanation. The Emeritus Satanic Church has it own traditions for their Yule. It’s a four-day affair. On the first day are services, the log is chosen and runes are carved into it. On the second is the feast. The third is a day for loved ones to get together. The fourth, a day of gift giving. The twentieth until the twenty-third.

Back to Secondo, on the afternoon of the 21^st, sitting alone in his office. The old clock of the abbey had just chimed three. A Good enough time to pour himself a finger of whiskey. Easier to stay here and drink the holiday away. He would take the reprimand from Sister Imperator later. The clergy had his useless father and Primo, they didn’t need Papa Emeritus II at the feast.

“Happy Yule! Thought I’d find you hiding in here!” Terzo, Secondo’s younger brother, bursting into the room like a gale of wind.

“Oh,” said Secondo, “fuck off.”

If Yuletime made Secondo all the more sour, then it made Terzo all the more brighter. Eyes sparkling to match the embroidery on his purple cassock.

“Oh, come on! Have some Yuletide spirit! You don’t need to be so miserable.”

“You don’t need to be so obnoxious. Get off my desk,” Secondo said. Shoving at his younger brother as Terzo made to perch on his desk.

“You’re no fun anymore.” Terzo heaved a sigh, glancing around the dimly lit office.

“Don’t act like a fucking child.”

I’m not—” Terzo stopped and took a moment to collect himself, “—I just don’t like to see you all holed away like this. I don’t think it does you any good to hide during Yule.”

Secondo narrowed his eyes. “What? So I should be out there, then?” he said, motioning to the shuttered windows behind him. “Blindly wishing all and sundry a Happy Yule, as if its done anything other than have us put on blinders? Ignoring all the shit in our lives? As if this holiday can bring us any good?”

He struck a nerve, Secondo could tell. By the rigid set of his brother’s jaw, by the stiff way Terzo now held his shoulders.

“Yule is an honest, loving, and charitable holiday. The one we have where none of us are held to lofty expectations. So, while you hide away here, I know that Yule has done me good and will do me good and you can fucking shove it!”

Secondo scoffed, turning his chair and putting his back to Terzo. Who only sighed once again.

“I didn’t come here to start a fight. Tomorrow Copia and I are throwing a little get together in the south courtyard. Join us?”

“Why in the Hell do you hang around with that Cardinal so much?”

“Because I love him.”

“Because you love him,” Secondo growled. As if the concept were just as ridiculous as a happy Yule. “Get out.”

“Well, I tried, if you change your mind you’ll be welcome. Several of your ghouls will be there!”

“Get out!”

“Have a Happy Yule anyway!” And with that Terzo is gone, having slammed the office door behind him. Leaving Secondo alone for only a moment before he heard the door opening again.

Secondo turned quickly, ready to rip into Terzo for disturbing him again. Only to balk when coming face to face with Primo. The only person in the clergy that Secondo would always be deferential to. This time was no exception.

“Lovely to see you’ve sent Terzo storming away again. You’re going to miss the feast this year as well.”

It was not a question. For Primo knew Secondo better than the man might know himself. A fact only to be expected. As Primo had sacrificed his early years to raise his brothers. Maybe that is why sitting under the weight of his gaze made Secondo shift in his seat.

“You will continue to hide yourself away until the twenty-fourth. As you have done every year.”

Secondo had no reply.

“I think it is time for a change.”

Secondo scowled up at his brother. “Think what you want, it doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly love the holiday.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. I am only asking that you spend this time with others. With your ghouls or with Copia and Terzo.”

“Get some time with them before their relationship inevitably ends in tragedy, like everything does?” Secondo sneered.

It was clear that he would make no headway, Primo could only shake his head. Silently leaving Secondo alone with his whiskey.

The hours of the evening passed by. Marked only by the ticking of the clock on the mantel above the cold fireplace. The start of the feast marked only by a knock on his door. A ghoul, bearing a covered plate “courtesy of Cardinal Copia” that Secondo did little more than pick at. The sound of merrymaking spread through the abbey. Shouting and laughter, bastardized carols sung off-key by drunken celebrants. Siblings and ghouls making last minute plans for the next day.

When finally leaving his office for his rooms, Secondo was given a wide berth. Those of the clergy avoided his gaze. Ushering human children and ghoul kits from his path. Lest his melancholy infected them as well.

The Papal Wing was the most secure wing of the abbey. Home to the Antipope and any they claimed as family. These are the halls Secondo was raised in. The portraits on the wall watching him grow into the man he’s become. I say this to emphasize how little attention Secondo pays to his surroundings as he approaches his door. It was mere noise in the background of his life. The carvings of some scene from Hell the same it has been every morning and evening of his life.

Until it wasn’t.

As Secondo’s hand touched the doorknob, Void stared up at him. Taking the place of some faceless ghoul carved into the mahogany. A dismal light setting him apart form the rest of the carving. His hair stirred ever so slightly, as if by a breeze. Wide eyes the bottomless, black pits that gave him his name. Featureless wells of black that Secondo could feel were pinned upon his face. Void opened his mouth, and distantly Secondo thought he heard a scream.

Then Secondo blinked and the carving was a carving yet again.

To say that Secondo was not startled would be untrue. However the world, the hall, and his door, was what it should be. His heart thundering in his chest did not stop him from reaching out again. Taking the knob and turning it. Stepping into this room with merely a glance at the door as it swung shut.

A play of the shadows and too much liquor, he concluded.

The rooms were double the opulence of the hall on the other side. Plush furniture, soft dark green velvet and dark wood. All speaking to the luxury hie is accustomed to. The incident with the door left Secondo wary. Cautiously, he scanned his rooms. Eyes straining against the shadows, searching for anything amiss. He found nothing.

A flip of a switch and the room was bathed in warm light. Secondo dropped into the armchair at the cold hearth. He should have had his own log burning in there. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Even with the chill that settled into his rooms. The same chill that did its level best to sink into his bones. Secondo let his thoughts wander, idly picking at stray threads on the arm of the chair as he did.

It is how he first hears it.

The quiet, staccato drip of water and a strange crackling sound. Thin ice underfoot, that’s what it was. Secondo moved to stand, hands braced on the chair, only to go still when footsteps joined the soft sounds.

This was an impossibility. The Papal Wing was warded, absolutely soaked in magic that would repel unwanted visitors. Even if someone had given an intruder permission to enter the wing, that did not cover Secondo’s personal room.

Still, footsteps approached his chair from behind. The plush carpet crackled and squelched under the intruder’s feet. Until finally they entered Secondo’s line of sight.

Void.

Void.

The very same. Unglamored and imperious as they stared down at Secondo. Fins flared out in a manner Secondo knew meant they were unsettled. Nude as they were, there was nothing to stop them from expressing themselves in such a manner.

What truly drew Secondo’s attention was the chain Void held. It was long, looping around the ghouls’ arms several time before it trailed off into the darkness Each link made of heavy iron, as large as Secondo’s own fist.

“What do you want?” Secondo snapped. He would not allow himself to be intimidated.

“Much.” The ghoul’s voice was as dark as pitch and just as welcoming.

“If it has nothing to do with me, then get out,” Secondo said. He did not want a ghoul that was supposed to be dead lingering longer than was strictly necessary

“You wish to get rid of me so soon?”

“You should be dead!”

“And I am. Do not tell me that you are so foolish as to deny my existence. I know you were taught better.”

Secondo scowled. He was taught better. Their church did not shun magic nor turn away that which the world finds impossible. How could they? When they kept the company of ghouls? Summoned from Hell itself.

“That does not mean I have to humor this charade!”

At this the ghoul let out a horrific shriek. Rattling the windows and the icicles beyond them. Secondo could not stop himself from pressing deeper into his chair. It was a harsh reminder that ghouls were, in fact, quite dangerous.

“Fucking Hell!” Secondo shouted. “Why come to me? Why bother coming back to earth as – as whatever you are?”

“It is required of every human,” the ghoul returned, “that their spirit within should walk among their fellows. To make contact and forge bonds, travel, if they are capable. So they might create bonds with their fellow humans. If they do not do so in life, if they push away and shun others, then they are condemned to wander in death. To witness what they can no longer share, but might have!”

“But you are not human!” Secondo cried.

Another shriek. “I am not here for myself!” Void howled. “I am here for you! This chain I carry is the one tethered to your soul, Secondo!”

With that Void dropped the coils of iron. Allowing them to slam to the carpet, where the impact was great enough Secondo could feel it in his bones.

“You made this!” Void cried. “Link by link, and yard by yard, this is your future! A horror story forged by all you say and do. Captive, bound, and double-ironed, this weight will exhaust you yet you will have to carry it forever move.”

“Void…” faltered Secondo, for he could not have stopped his voice from quaking if he tried.

“Here!” Void took Secondo by the arm. Hauling him from his chair as if he weighed nothing. They led him to the window, which opened bit by bit with every step they took. Until it was wide open. Void nodded into the beckoning darkness.

On the ground below were the expected revelers. Human and ghoul alike. The air above was filled with phantoms. Many cried and moaned as they drifted above those making merry. All of them wore chains, each length disappearing off into the mist. Holding the spirits back as if they were little more than dogs on a leash.

Secondo was shocked to find he recognized some. He remembered one particular ghost well. An old, thin woman, her thick iron chain wrapped about her throat. She sobbed at the sight of a ghoulette below, kit on her hip. The pair trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues. When she reached for them the chain pulled her back. Keeping her from getting close. 

Secondo stepped back from the window. “Why are you here?” he asked. All bluster gone, he could not muster it any longer.

“Because I begged. To give you a chance of escaping their fate. You will be haunted by three spirits.”

“Haunted?!” Secondo yelped. “I’ve had enough of that for one night!”

Void scowled. “Without their visits you cannot hope to avoid this fate.” They lifted the chain, letting it fall, landing with a heavy thud that shook the window. “Expect the first ghost tonight, when the bell tolls one.”

“Couldn’t I just take them all at once and get it over with?’

“When the bell tolls one. Heed them, and their lessons. Remember, if only for your own sake, what happened between us tonight.” In one fluid movement the ghoul vaulted over the windowsill. Disappearing into the blackness of night. The chain vanishing as the window slammed shut.

For a moment all Secondo could do is stand there. Exhaustion, from what he could barely fathom, consumed him. Maybe it was the fatigues of the day, or the glimpse of the afterlife, or the fraught conversation with Void, or merely the late hour. Whatever it was, Secondo went straight to bed. Crawling atop the cover without undressing, falling asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.

Chapter Text

When Secondo awoke some time later it was for the most natural of reasons.

He had to piss.

As such there was no attention given, in his half awake state, to puzzle over what happened. He merely slid from the bed. Stumbled to the bathroom. Conducted his business. Then crawled back into bed. Taking only a moment to pull the bed curtains closed before falling asleep again.

He woke again just as the clock began to strike. Secondo fumbled for his phone. Listened and watched, for the ghoul that kept the clock managed it with a precision no human could manage.

DING DONG

A quarter past.

DING DONG

Half-past. It was only a dream.

DING DONG

A quarter to it. Or bad food, maybe the alcohol. He did drink quite a bit.

DING DONG

The hour itself. The little number on his screen ticked over, yet there was only silence and darkness. Yes, he had only imagined the whole spectacle.

The hour bell, which Secondo had quite forgotten, sounded. A dull, deep, hollow and foreboding one.

Bright, clear, unnaturally white light pushed its way past the heavy velvet curtain. At first Secondo could only flinch away. His eyes burned at the sudden shock. He edged forward on his knees, reaching for the curtains. His hands trembled as he grabbed them, took a deep breath, and threw them open. Finding himself face to face, as close to him as I am to you now, with what must have been the spirit.

It was a strange figure. Small, almost doll-like in size and appearance. Secondo could not see any legs or feet. Indeed, the spirit seemed only to float several feet above the ground. The tendril-like hem of its dress swaying gently, as if in a breeze. Its hair, a pale strawberry color, hung loose about its neck and shoulders. Topped with a crown, a fresh sprig of holly amongst which was woven many spring and summer flowers. And while its face appeared untouched by time, with not a wrinkle to be seen, its eyes felt old. Something fond, yet melancholic, in the deep blue color of its eyes. In small, dainty hands it held an extinguisher cap. One that would be just large enough to fit over the spirit’s head, if so placed there.

The light that filled the room seemed to come from within the spirit. It dimmed only slightly when Secondo looked upon it. Enough to not burn the eyes.

“Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?” asked Secondo.

“I am.” Its voice was soft and gentle.

“You— you’re barely a child!” Secondo exclaimed. “You look like an infant!”

“My memory spans back over nineteen-hundred years. I am the Ghost of Yule Past.”

“Long past?”

“No. Your past.”

Acutely Secondo wished to see the spirit in its cap. It tilted its head as if sensing the thought. Secondo swallowed. “What’s with the cap?”

“Your passions made this cap, and force it low upon my brow. To wear it through whole trains of years. Blocking out the light I give.”

It is fucking bright, Secondo thought. He did not voice the thought. “What business bring you here?”

“Your welfare,” said the Ghost.

Secondo scoffs. “A full night’s sleep would be better for my welfare.”

“Your salvation, then. Take heed, come,” the Ghost said. Holding out a small, dainty hand. At that same moment the window flew open. Letting a cold wind sweep through his room.

“I’m human,” Secondo cried, indignant. “I’ll fucking fall! I can’t fly!”

“A touch of my hand and you shall fly,” the Ghost insisted. Hand still outstretched towards Secondo.

Scowling, Secondo took the small hand. Letting the small Ghost lead him to his own window. Then out. The Ghost carried him over the woods and fields. Over streets and roofs. They hurtled towards a growing light on the horizon’s edge. Glowing so bright Secondo had to shield his eyes.

“That can’t be the sun!” Secondo shouted.

“It is the past.”

The light grew. Stronger and stronger, brighter and brighter. Until Secondo had to screw his eyes shut against it. The wind picked up with the light. Only for it all to abruptly stop, and for the Ghost to lower him to the ground. And so they had arrived at Secondo’s childhood. It was the afternoon of a Yule’s eve and Secondo was conscious of a thousand odors floating through the air. Each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares, all long, long forgotten.

“This was my school!” Secondo cried. “I was a boy here. That – that’s Emilio! And Matteo!” Every boy rushing past was a familiar face. All of them gleeful and shouting to each other, in wonderful spirits. He called out to them but they did not heed him. Continuing to run past.

“These are but shadows of the past Secondo,” said the Ghost. “They can neither see nor hear you. Come, let us go inside.”

What a flood of memories that overcame Secondo as they entered the grand stone building. The Ghost let Secondo lead the way. His memories pulled him along the echoing corridors. Something that could be called a pep in his step. Until some great realization washed over him and he faltered. Raised voices echoing down the hallway. They rounded the corner to a sad scene.

A young boy, Secondo’s younger self, clung to a young Primo. Papa Nihil scowled at him from quite some distance away. Finally he barked, “Come on, we don’t have all day!”

“Primo, please, don’t leave me here,” the young Secondo begged, “I can be good!”

Primo cupped his face, crouching so he could be on the young Secondo’s level. “I cannot go against our father, I’m sorry. I promise I will visit often, every weekend and holiday. I promise.”

Secondo turned his gaze away as his younger self cried that it was Yule now.

“Let us see another Yule in this place,” the Ghost said.

“What does it matter? They were all the same. Nothing ever changed.”

“You changed.”

At the Ghost’s words time began its cruel dance. In a matter of moment Secondo watched the Yules of his youth pass. The polished stone of the floor became scuffed and worn, cracks formed in the walls. With every year that passed showed only Primo as his occasional visitor. Until Terzo appeared. Then it was three. Year after year. When the dance stops it is only a teenage Secondo in the hall. Pacing up and down the hall, checking the clock on the wall regularly. Until he dropped to a bench, despondent.

A tiny blur sped around the corner, launching itself at the young Secondo. It was a young, young Terzo. Clinging to his older brother’s neck with spindly arms.

“We’re bring you home, Secondo!” he cried. “Home, home, home!” He hopped into Secondo’s lap, bowling him over. Oblivious to the teenager’s shock.

“Home?” returned the teen.

“Yes!” The boy jumped from Secondo’s lap. Bouncing about with barely restrained excitement. “Primo asked what my wish for Yule was, and I told him I wished you’d come home! Forever! And he talked to father! And father said yes! And now we’re here!” He seized upon Secondo’s hand, tugging him to his feet and down the hall. His chatter filled the chilled air.

“Such a lively child,” the Ghost said. “He adored you.”

Secondo seemed uneasy, even guilty as he watched them round the corner out of sight. He answered briefly, “Yes.”

Naught but a moment later Secondo found himself standing in a busy corridor of the abbey. It was the first night of Yule. Night was falling, and fire ghouls flitted about lighting torches in their ancient sconces. The sounds of a grand party spilled from open doors. People danced and laughed and made merry. The cheer of the season was almost palpable in the air. A younger Secondo, not boy nor teen but a proper young man, was amongst a crush of ghouls. Those that were his, are his in many ways still. They held their court at a table. Shared drinks and foods piled in the center. Secondo broke away from his crowd. Crowing that they needed more refreshment.

He wove easily through the crowds. By happenstance almost trampling over his brother and two companions. Young men of comparable age to Terzo. Secondo did, in fact, run into one of them. The collision sent them turning about each other, Secondo kept an arm around the young man’s waist to keep them both from falling.

“Excuse me,” said the young Secondo. Breathless as he took in the other man’s visage.

“Secondo!” Terzo cried with a great laugh, his other companion laughing uproariously at the display they must have made. “Don’t run over Copia!” He grinned as he made their introductions. Brothers Copia and Anton. Yet the young Secondo had eyes only for Copia, enraptured as he had given a shy smile. Cheeks pink. It had taken much of Secondo’s self-control to step back.

“You remember this meeting?” The Ghost asked.

“Yes…” Secondo’s gaze was pinned to the young Copia, much as his counterpart. “Yes, I remember.”

“There is… another Yule with that young man, some years later.”

“Please,” Secondo pleaded, quietly desperate, “do not show me that Yule.”

The world shifted and they then were in a snowy courtyard. This version of Secondo had lost what passion and exuberance he’d had. Bitterness settled along his shoulders like a blanket. His companion, Copia, sat next to him. With sad eyes, tears shining in the late afternoon light.

“So you still won’t marry me?” Copia asked. “There’s no reason we can’t. No one would stop us.”

“I have my father and Imperator breathing down my neck. That’s reason enough. Besides, marriage is hardly important. Can’t you just be happy we’re together?”

“I can’t keep up the charade,” Copia said, his hands twisting in his lap. “I can’t keep pretending you—”

“I what?”

“You still love me.”

“I do still love you.”

But Copia shook his head, tears falling. “You used to, something has pulled you away. You’ve grown angry, bitter, like the good in our life doesn’t matter. I know Papa Nihil insists you will be made Papa, and I know you hate it. But I- I tried to help and you shrug it all off. I can’t be the only person putting in effort in a relationship.”

Copia stood. Secondo of youth said nothing. Did not even look at him.

“Nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Secondo growled in question. “Go then, I won’t poison you any longer.”

Copia’s tears fell freely then, with one last whispered apology he left.

“GO AFTER HIM!” Secondo raged at his former self. “GO, YOU FUCKING—” He broke off with a cry. Could only watch as Copia disappeared into the abbey. He turned to glare at the Ghost. “Show me no more. Do you delight in torturing me?”

“I told you: These are the shadows of things that have been,” said the ghost. “They are what they are, do not blame me.”

“Leave me!” Secondo returned, face twisting with grief.

The Ghost gave him a somber look, and with its dainty hands it raised the extinguisher cap. Lowering it upon its own brow. The light dimmed, but did not quite go out as the snowy courtyard faded away. Giving way to Secondo’s familiar rooms.

He sunk onto his bed’s edge and buried his face in his hands. Until all at once the light winked out. Left alone and exhausted in his bedchamber, Secondo sat. Until the abbey’s clock began to strike the hour.

Chapter Text

What eventually drew Secondo’s attention is light yet again. Warm and bright, it spilled under the crack in the door. I don’t mind impressing on you that Secondo was feeling quite raw. Whatever he might have expected from the Ghost, that was not it. So when the light spilled across his feet for a moment he could only sit there. Staring numbly at the long shadows. He knew, on some level, that if he did not seek out this second Ghost it would come find him. There was no escape, no hiding away and scaring it off with sharp words. As such he did eventually push to his feet. Plodding to the doors to follow the light.

It spilled from a room down the hall. One that Secondo’s father had long ordered sealed. For no one would ever use it. Or so Nihil assumed.

The room had been transformed. The walls and ceiling draped in living green, so much that it looked to be a grove. With red berries glistening in the firelight. Holly, mistletoe, and ivy made the room feel soft and cozy. A fire roared in the hearth. Bringing a warmth to the space that it hadn’t seen in years. Along one wall was a massive table piled high with a feast the likes of which Secondo had never seen. Turkeys and sucking pigs and heaping wreaths of sausage, roast chestnuts and oysters and mountains of fruit in bowls, apples and oranges and pears and blackberries, cinnamon rolls and little cakes and whole pies and small cookies dusted in powdered sugar, huge bowls of punch that shimmered in the low light.

At the table’s head sat a woman that must be the Ghost. The Ghost towered over Secondo even from across the room. Its fine red hair tumbled over its shoulders in bold ringlets. Clothed in a simple robe of velvet green, bordered with white fur. Hung so loosely on its frame that much of its chest was bare. As if it was disdainful to cover or conceal it. On its head was a crown of holly, tiny icicles twinkling amongst the leaves.

“Come in!” The Ghost boomed. “Come in! And know me better, man!”

“You’re the second spirit?”

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present!” exclaimed the Spirit, bright and joyful. “You have never seen the likes of me before?”

“Uh… no.”

“No? Over eighteen-hundred of my kin have come before me!”

“Groceries must be expensive.”

To Secondo’s surprises the Ghost broke into loud laughter. Rising from its seat to approach Secondo. Shrinking with each step until it matched Secondo’s height.

“Doesn’t everything seem wonderful during Yule?” it queried.

A stone sank deep in Secondo’s gut. “No. In all honesty, no. And I am starting to wonder if I never understood.”

The Ghost held no judgment in its gaze as it looked upon him. Merely slung an arm around his shoulders and said, “Before this day you will understand. We shall go out into the world!”

It stepped forward to clasp a torch on the table, lifting it aloft. The torch, shaped much like a cornucopia, glowed brightly. In an instant the room around them faded away and they stood in the entrance hall of the abbey on Yule morning.

Human and ghoul bustled by merrily. Their voices echoed up and down the halls. For this was the fourth day of Yule. A day of gathering with those they love to exchange gifts. Secondo never knew that such gatherings spilled into the corridors as well. He watched as the Ghost reached into the torch, the flamed curling around hand and wrist. It cast a fine glittering dust as it withdrew its hand. A dust that the Ghost then showered over those that passed. Or, more precisely, over the food they carried. Over bottles of wine and loaves of fresh baked bread and mystery casseroles.

“Is there a blessing in that?” Secondo asked.

“There is! My own. The Blessing of the Day!”

“And you apply it to any food given today?”

“To any kindly given. To a poor one most of all.” As if to punctuate the statement the Ghost turned away. Approaching boxes of food. Part of Ministry outreach, meals distributed to the needy. The Spirit is generous with its blessing over these containers. Before they are carried away by the volunteers.

“They need it most,” the Ghost said, “keep mind, Secondo, there are those upon this earth who claim to know of us. My kin and I. Who enact their deeds of cruelty, hatred, bigotry, and selfishness in our name. These people reside within our ministry. Yet they are as strange to our kith and kin as if they had never lived. Remember that.”

With a deep swallow Secondo nodded. They moved on, invisible as with the previous Ghost, through the abbey halls. Siblings walked arm in arm to their destinations. Songs were sung and greetings called. A gaggle of children screamed for joy as snow started to fall. Tumbling over each other in their haste to get outside. So lost in taking in the joy that bubbled around him, Secondo found himself shocked when the Ghost led him right to the door of his ghoul’s den.

“What are we doing here?”

“It is Yule here as well,” the Ghost said with a chuckle. Yet again it slung an arm around Secondo’s shoulder and pulled him right through the wall into the ghouls’ sitting room.

Alpha, of all ghouls, had command of the kitchenette. Working at something in a large pot as he watched over the others. The twins, Flotsam and Jetsam, heeding his orders. Taking care to wash and prepare the turkey in the sink.

“Don’t forget to save the neck and organs. Humans may not care for them but—”

“We know!” The twins chimed with a giggle.

“Your turkey will be a hit, as always,” Mist said with one of her toothy grins.

Alpha scowled at the water ghoul. “I know it will. I also know Swiss is counting on the neck and giblets for his stew tomorrow.”

“Do you think Secondo will accept Terzo’s invite?” Asbestos asked.

All the assembled ghouls went quite still. Ivy and Calico were ones to share a look first. Wincing when their eyes met. Mist tapped a long claw against the stem of her wine glass.

“I doubt it,” Mist finally said.

Alpha growled. “I am getting tired of his attitude.”

“Alpha…”

“No, he is right.” Mist interrupted Calico. “Secondo has become a cold, hard, unfeeling man and will not allow anyone close enough to crack the shell he has built.”

Secondo tried to step back. Quite uncomfortable. The Ghost’s arm tightened around his shoulders. Holding him fast. “Your actions are never kept in a vacuum,” the Ghost intoned.

“It’s not good for him,” Calico murmured.

“It isn’t,” Mist agreed. “But we cannot force the stubborn bastard to make healthier choices.” With that she cast her gaze upon Alpha. Who merely huffed, sending a plume of smoke up to the ceiling.

The other, younger ghouls shifted on their feet. Uncomfortable and unhappy. Mist again bore her gaze into Alpha.

“We’ll go to the party, and when doing toasts we’ll drink to Secondo’s health,” Alpha grumbled. Earning a nod from Mist.

“We’ll drink for his sake and the days, and hope that next year we’ll be able to celebrate with him again,” she said.

Murmurs went around the room in agreement, but Secondo couldn’t bring himself to care. For the mere mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the group. One that was not fully dispelled for a full five minutes. Not until the Ghost finally released its grip on Secondo’s shoulders to that it could bestow the Day’s Blessing upon the food.

The twins proclaimed the turkey clean and ready, grabbing a large ziploc bag from a cupboard they darted from the room. With a grin from the Ghost, they followed the twins. So Secondo could observe as they flitted from door to door. Collecting more unwanted necks, giblets, and organs.

More importantly it allowed Secondo that glimpse inside the lives of his people, even if only for a moment. To see roaring fires where marshmallows and chestnuts roasted. Cozy parlors where friends and family gathered. Windows thrown open to offer a break from hot kitchens and hotter ovens. They hurtled past the twins. To see children running through new fallen snow. Swept deep into the catacombs to see a group of pretty young ghouls. The way they chattered in delight, the dainty bells that decorated their horns chimed with each step, as they made their way to a grand hall. Where the ghouls of the catacombs kept the old traditions of Hell.

The Ghost laughed as they went, casting the Day’s Blessing over all food it saw. So infectious was its joy, even Secondo found himself warmed and charmed. Looking forward to whatever new sights it might bring him as it looped an arm around his shoulders. Holding its torch aloft to bring them up. Through earth and stone until they surfaced above a pond.

Before them ghoul and sibling alike shouted and laughed in the shadow of a great barn. So consumed in a great snowball fight they were. Cheeks ruddy from the cold, they played like the children and kits they once were long ago.

The Ghost turned them about and they were in the kitchen. Secondo was startled to realize he recognized the young man slicing ham. Father Anton, one of Copia’s oldest friends. Carefully he placed the slices in a large chafing dish. Once full they followed as Father Anton took the dish through a pair of swing doors. A line of the poor and downtrodden watched as he replaced a nearly empty dish. A soup kitchen! It brought Secondo no small amount of shame that this was a revelation to him. The ghost bestowed the Day’s Blessing with a generosity yet unseen. It glimmered on the ham as Father Anton served it to a young woman that had tears shining in her eyes and a toddler clinging to her skirts.

Then they were gone, the world swam before them and re-materialized. In a small room, outside the small windows a storm raged on. Dark water churned, occasionally illuminated by light. Which meant this was a lighthouse. Given away by the spiral staircase that circled the space. Three men huddled around the fireplace of the small room, plates balanced on their knees. The oldest of them gesticulated as he regaled his fellows with the traditions of their religion. And they listened. Without a hint of judgment upon their faces. The Yule log popped merrily in the hearth.

The Ghost pulled Secondo away, out of the door of the lighthouse. They do not walk into the raging storm, but into the South Courtyard. Snow drifted softly to the ground, glittering in the light cast from fairy lights strung around the gazebo. A bonfire roaring happily in the center of the fire pit. This must be the party that Terzo invited him to.

Secondo stumbled over his feet as laughter rang out. Copia’s, bright and delighted in a way he had not heard in years. It made his heart clench to hear it. To realize how much he missed it. The Ghost gave him a sympathetic look, maybe even pitying, and led him forward. Closer to the gazebo.

Terzo watched Copia with such love in his eyes that it hurt Secondo. The longing and regret rising up within his chest. Made worse as Copia leaned back into Terzo’s space.

“I was waiting for him to call Yule a humbug like good ‘ol Scrooge!” Terzo crowed.

“He would,” Alpha huffed as he fussed over tables laden with food.

“He’d have to actually read A Christmas Carol first,” Copia said. “Where are Dew and Mountain?”

“Dew wanted to catch the last Mass of the night,” Rain says. “They should be back soon.”

Copia nodded, accepting that with ease. Dewdrop was always the most pious of the ghouls in Terzo’s pack. Then, as if summoned by the thought, the doors swung open to reveal Mountain’s tall frame. The small water ghoul cradled in his arms. As they got closer Secondo startled.

Dewdrop had always been a small ghoul of delicate health, but at some point his condition had worsened. Normally dusky pink skin had a greyish tinge and the circles under his eyes were deep and dark. A slight tremble plagued his slim frame as Mountain set him down on a cushioned seat nearest the fire. Mist sweeping in with a blanket and hot drink to combat the chill.

“Happy Yule, or some shit. What’re we talking about?” The frail little ghoul asked as he sipped his drink.

“Secondo denying Terzo’s invite for tonight.”

“Oh.” Another shallow sip was taken. “He’s a prick.” Said as simply as stating the sky is blue on a clear day.

“Prick, my brother may be, but I’ll not say anything against him,” Terzo said.

“Agreed.” Copia gave a firm nod. “Now that everyone is here: Ifrit! The poker!”

The fire ghoul waved at Copia, grabbing a fire poker and holding it aloft by the pointed end. Smoke beginning to curl around his closed fist. The metal glowed the faintest red under his fingers.

Terzo hopped the gazebo’s railing and landed nearly in the snow near Secondo and the Ghost. Digging through a snowdrift resting against the gazebo’s side.

“I don’t know why you won’t say anything against him, considering how he’s treated you and Copia,” Swiss said, leaning against the gazebo rail above Terzo.

Terzo shrugged, brushed snow from the lid of a metal punch bowl. “His offenses carry his own punishment, I think.”

Swiss rolled his eyes, but took the punch bowl without complaint.

“It’s not like he has any friends,” Alpha growled. “He keeps even us at a distance now.”

Omega tangled his tail with Alpha’s. Trying, in some small way, to offer comfort to his bondmate.

“And we’re surprised?” Cumulus scoffed. “Secondo is the most uncivil human I’ve met on earth yet! Never greets anyone, even outside of the holidays, always storming through the halls. I have no patience for him.”

“And who suffers more for it than him?” Copia said. “I’m pretty sure he won’t find better companions in his own thoughts, but that’s his choice, yeah?”

“Exactly! Whether he likes it or not I will invite him every year so he always has the option to create happier memories,” Terzo said. “Now let’s have some punch!”

The whole group gathers around the punch bowl to watch as Ifrit dunks the now glowing red poker into the punch. Delighting in the way it bubbles and hisses, steam rising above and filling the air with its sweet scent. Little cups are passed out. Alpha hands one off to Dewdrop.

“Next Yule you’ll have the honors of heating the poker.” He grinned and ruffled the little ghoul’s hair. Artfully dodging the sharp teeth snapped in his direction with a laugh. One that quickly disappeared, overcome by concern as the little water ghoul folds over with a groan. His breathing made such a horrible, rasping sound it immediately summoned Omega and Aether to his side. The pair of quintessence ghouls administered their magic to ease his struggle. Copia also rushed over to offer comfort to his favorite ghoul.

“Ghost,” said Secondo, eyes pinned on the scene, “will Dewdrop recover?”

“You didn’t care before this moment,” the Ghost said. Voice suddenly quite flat in a way it hadn’t been this whole time.

Secondo cringed away from the statement, for it was true. He had known Dewdrop well during his relationship with Copia. His friendship with the ghoul had died with the relationship. Secondo had not bothered to maintain it. Had not bothered to check in with Dewdrop when he fell ill. Had not bothered to reconnect.

“But,” the Ghost continued, “that is the future, and my realm is the present. However I see the transition ritual going badly. A cost saving measure. If these shadows remain unaltered the little ghoul may die. But then all things end in tragedy, don’t they?”

“Ghost…” It was too close to Secondo’s earlier statements for comfort.

“My time draws short. Come.”

Darkness closed in around them both. Blotting out the snow and the gazebo and all the others. Secondo kept his eyes on the scene. Especially Copia and Dewdrop, until the last.

The darkness released them into one of the many cozy cemeteries on ministry grounds. Abruptly the Ghost hobbled on its feet, much like an old man. Before Secondo’s own eyes the Ghost’s hair was turning white.

“Are Ghost’s lives this short?” asked Secondo.

“My time on this earth is very brief,” replied the Ghost, sinking to sit on a stone bench. “It should end on the stroke of twelve.”

One cue the chimes of the abbey rang out.

One… Two…

“What? Now?” exclaimed Secondo. “But I feel like I learned so much from you!” He dropped to his knees in the snow.

Three… Four…

Nothing Secondo could do or say could stop the relentless march of those terrible bells.

Five… Six….

“Please, don’t leave me.”

Seven… Eight…

The Ghost cupped Secondo’s face with the kindness of a mother. “I’m afraid I must, in fact.”

“You’ve changed me.”

Nine… Ten…

“And now I leave you with the Ghost of Yule Yet to Come.”

“The future…” Secondo murmured. “Must I?”

Eleven… Twelve…

The Ghost smiled, its form vanishing amongst the falling snow. “Go forth, and know him better, man!” The Ghost laughed, the sound echoing through the cemetery as the Ghost disappeared. Slowly, Secondo climbed to his feet. He turned to find a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, approaching him. Slow and silent, like the mist that flowed across the ground.

Chapter Text

The very air around the ghost was bogged down with gloom and mystery. It was shrouded in a heavy looking robe. Endless folds of deep gray material that conceals its form, the massive hood hanging low to conceal its face and head. Nothing was visible except its hands, and even those were the same gloomy gray as the rest. It would be difficult, as such, to detach the figure from the surrounding night.

The Ghost was tall and stately when it came beside him. Towering over Secondo, It remained utterly silent.

“Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?” asked Secondo.

The Ghost gave a slow incline of its head.

Something of the Ghost struck a mortal fear into Secondo. Made his heart pound in his chest and implored him to avert his eyes. The weight of unseen eyes settled across his shoulders. Even as the shadows within the hood remains opaque.

“I think I fear you more than any specter I have yet met. But I…” Secondo paused to swallow. “I am prepared to follow and to learn. I know your purpose is to do me good. You won’t speak to me?”

It gave him no reply. Only turned and pointed towards the distant fog with one hand.

“Right, yeah, we’re on a time crunch. Lead on.”

Tucking its arm back into the folds of its robe, the Ghost did so. The fog swirled around them. Forcing Secondo to stay close, lest he get separated from the Ghost in the mist.

It ebbed to leave them in a long corridor of the abbey. Siblings hurried up and down, with down-turned heads. Secondo felt the Ghost’s presence against his back. One hand pointing to a little knot of Siblings conversing near a window. Each of them routinely glancing over their shoulder as they talk. Heeding the Ghost, Secondo approached them.

“No,” said a tall, thin young man. “I don’t know much about it, either way. I only know they’re dead.”

“When did they die? All of them? Truly?”

“Last night, I believe,” he said. Glancing over his shoulder.

“All at once? What happened?” asked a round faced chubby girl.

“Imperator just said they fell ill,” said the first man.

“It’s fucking suspicious,” said another in a low voice, carefully rolling a cigarette. “At least we know the Celebration of Life will be extravagant.”

“There won’t be one.”

Such a statement was met with angry exclamations. For it was unheard of for a Celebration of Life to be denied. Only for one of Imperator’s cherub masked ghouls to appear and they disperse amongst their fellows. Time sped around them, the Siblings all turning into a blur as they moved. Until they stop, and the Ghost pointed at two different members of the clergy.

“How are you?” asked one. “Considering…”

“Aggravated, how dare she?” replied the other. “If it was just the one… well, not many would care.”

“But all three?”

“Exactly. Come on, we have mass.”

And that was it, their meeting, their conversation, and their parting.

Secondo was no fool. These seemingly trivial conversations had a purpose. The Ghost would not show them otherwise. They left a sour taste in his mouth and sunk a stone in his gut. Heavy and cold. He could feel the weight of the Ghost’s gaze upon him. Analyzing him, his reactions. For what exactly Secondo can barely fathom. He turned to face the Ghost and startled to find it so close it obscured his vision.

The Ghost moved back, arm sweeping to point.

Gone was the well lit public corridor. Now they stood at the mouth of one of the many abandoned ones. The Ghost swept past, down the corridor into the gloom, and Secondo rushed to keep up with it. It pointed to a door at the same time footsteps sounded.

An older woman, one Secondo recognized as a laundress, rushed down the hall. At best she could, laden down as she was with a heavy looking bundle. She was quickly followed by a man in faded black and a Ghoulette in a threadbare uniform.

The ragpickers. A group allegedly formed to help sustain the ghouls that lived in the catacombs. That they were so neglected by the ministry they had to resort to handouts. They were thought to just be rumor. No one wished to believe that their own might steal form the dead. That the ministry had failed them so badly. Yet here they are.

“Well, a sad day,” said the man.

“Yes, I s’pose,” agreed the laundress. “A good day for our foul business.”

“The circumstances made it fouler by far,” grumbled the ghoulette.

“We’re given little choice at this point,” the laundress replied.

The man tugged open the door. Revealing an old, haggard ghoul with many spider-like limbs. It sat amongst several bins piled with items. Linens and clothes and shoes and pillows and other miscellany.

“A shame that today I am to receive items,” the spider-ghoul croaked. It’s many tiny black eyes glittering as it looked over the three. “Right, what have you all?”

“Ladies first,” the man said.

The laundress stepped forward. Sheets and towels, a pair of boots that were vaguely familiar to Secondo, and bed curtains.

The ghoulette followed. Blankets, and several pairs of nondescript shirts and trousers were offered.

From the man socks were offered, along with a pair of gardening gloves.

“They will help? Right?” The ghoulette asked.

“They will.” The spider-ghoul patted the blankets. “There is a pack with a litter due, these blankets and the towels will go straight to them.”

Dread washed over Secondo, he looked to the Ghost. Yet he could not bring himself to speak. The corridor changes around them and the Ghost pointed over his shoulder. But Secondo did not want to turn, for he knew this hall.

“Ghost, please…”

It jerks. Jabbing its finger over Secondo’s shoulder. Insistence radiating from its form.

Reluctantly, Secondo turned. It was the den of his ghouls. Barren and cold and empty. No ghoul present. No blanket tossed over a couch, the kitchenette cabinets hung open to reveal bare shelves. Mist’s paintings were gone, empty nails dotted the walls.

“Where are my ghouls?” Secondo demanded. Rounding on the Ghost in his desperation.

The Ghost did not speak.

“Please, show me some tenderness, then.”

The Ghost pointed down the hall, and Secondo followed. Stepping into the corridor that leads to the wide, swinging doors of the infirmary.

“Ghost—”

Another insistent jab towards the doors urged Secondo on. And he did. With weak knees and shaking hands he pushed the doors open. Heart pounding in his chest, he took in the space. The Sister at the reception desk stared unseeing at her computer. Not heeding anything. For she didn’t have to. Only two beds were occupied. Beds Secondo approached.

In the closer bed was Aether. Clear from his position was that he had sat on the bed only to fall asleep, for his legs hung off the edge. The ghoul’s hands folded over his stomach. Secondo could see the tell-tale cracks in the skin of his hands that was a signifier of too much quintessence use.

The other bed had the curtains drawn. Yet the Ghost pointed. So Secondo entered the space.

Dewdrop lay in the infirmary bed. Pale and sickly, thin chest struggling to rise with each wheezing breath. More machines attached to him than Secondo even knew they had. They beeped and blinked, giving readings that Secondo could not understand. And in the chair next to the bed is Copia.

His eyes are red and puffy, his hands shook where he clasped them in prayer. The paint around his eyes streaked and smudged from his evident crying. Revealing the dark bruise-like circles under his eyes. Secondo burned to hold him. To watch Dewdrop so Copia may get sleep. Something resembling rest. What unsettled him is Terzo’s absence. Where is his brother?

Secondo turned to demand answers from the Ghost only for his attention to be drawn away. The doors to the infirmary swinging open and familiar heels clacked against the floor.

Imperator.

She wasted no time. Ignoring the receptionist and making a beeline for Dewdrop’s bed.

“Cardi, what are you doing here?” She asked.

“Sister! I – eh—”

“You need to get ready. Make yourself presentable. You’ll be presented as the next frontman for Ghost to Papa Nihil. Can’t have you looking all mopey.”

“What—”

But Sister Imperator is already stalking away Heels clack-clack-clacking. Leaving Copia in his chair by Dewdrop’s bed. The machines continuing to blink soullessly as the Cardinal stares into the distance.

“What the fuck?!” Secondo shouted, rounding on the Ghost. “How can she do that?! What is she talking about?!”

The world shifted around them yet again, placing them in the cemetery again. The Ghost stood amongst the graves and pointed to the door of a crypt. One that Secondo knew. For it was the crypt that housed only the Emeritus line, going back generations. Horror settled in Secondo’s gut.

“Fine,” he ground out through his teeth. “But before I go in, answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will Be, or are they the shadows of the things that May Be, only?”

The Ghost only continued to point to the crypt.

“Things can be changed,” Secondo muttered, the great iron doors groaning as he pushed them open. “A life can be made right.” His steps echoed off the stone walls. His heart firmly lodged in his throat. Still, Secondo crept forward, following the soft glow of candles. Up to an iron gate that stood before three glass coffins. Above them the three plaques read:

Primo Emeritus

Secondo Emeritus

Terzo Emeritus

“No. No. No. No.” Secondo stumbled backwards. Only to run into the spirit.

It still pointed to the caskets.

“I’m not that sort of dickhead anymore! Why show me this if I am past all hope? My brothers… I can’t— I can’t be the one that dooms them!”

For the first time yet the hand appeared to tremble.

Secondo clutched at the Ghost’s robe. “Please tell me I can change these events. If only for my brothers’ sake! I will honor Yule in my heart and try to keep it all the year! I won’t shut out the lessons you all have taught me! I will live in the past, the present, and the future! Ghost, please!”

He clung to the robes, leaning with all his weight.

Until he dropped forward onto a mattress.

Chapter Text

Yes! And it was his own! The bed was his own! The room was his own! Best of all was that his life lay before him, in his power to be changed!

Secondo scrambled from the bed, scrubbing the tears from his face. His bed curtains were still there, his blankets, it was as if the night had not happened. As if it were just a dream he had. Secondo would not be so foolish as to leave it at that. He leapt for the window, suddenly desiring the fresh air.

No fog. No mist. Instead the morning sun shone bright, making the world glitter with the freshly fallen snow. The grounds looking soft and calm. The only sound the rhythmic scrape of a shovel as a Sibling of Sin shoveled the walkway below.

“What’s today?” Secondo called down to the Sibling.

“Huh?” The Sibling glanced around him before finally squinting up at Secondo.

“What’s today?”

The Sibling gave Secondo a look that might have been incredulous. It was hard to tell with how they squinted. “It’s the Fourth Day of Yule, Your Unholiness.”

“I haven’t missed it!” Said Secondo, he sagged in relief against the windowsill. “The Ghosts did it all in one night. They can do whatever they like. Of course they can.”

“Um…” The Sibling glanced around them, “is that all, Your Unholiness?”

“Yes—” an idea struck Secondo suddenly, “—the South Courtyard, could you clear the paths and gazebo there?”

“I… could., but Sister Imperator will be a bitch about me abandoning this mid-job.”

“Of course she would, a moment.” It took only a moment for Secondo to dig out the Papal Marks. A small, fist-sized medallion meant to show that someone was acting on orders from Papa. Which could then be traded in later for a boon. He tossed one down to the Sibling. “Here! That will keep her off your back. When you are done find me and I’ll have five more for you.”

“Satan’s taint!” The Sibling cried out as they caught the mark, “Yessir, Your Unholiness! You can count on it!”

With a shout the Sibling is off like a shot.

Secondo had to take time to calm himself down. To quell the shake that had taken over his limbs. Shortly after, he was dressed in his finest, ready to wish a Happy and Blessed Yule to all he met. Ghoul and Sibling alike could not hold back their shock from seeing Secondo’s good mood. From his willingness to return their careful well-wishes of the holidays.

He humored the children and kits that approached him. Helped haul food to the charity trucks. Even slipped in the back of mass led by Primo, and did not falter under the weight of his brother’s gaze. He would not run when the inevitable questions came. When mass was finished Secondo did not slip out the doors. Instead he approached the pulpit.

“Well this is unexpected,” Primo said. “I fully expected you to stay hidden away as you’ve done for years.”

“I… you could say I had a change of heart last night.”

“And what prompted that?”

“I’m not sure you’d believe me, if I am honest.”

His older brother looked supremely unimpressed. Motioning to the now empty chapel to indicate they were quite alone. That no one else is here to eavesdrop. With that security Secondo tells his brother everything. Standing in the red light cast through the stained glass. He talked of Void’s warning, of the three ghosts, of being shown how he was wasting his life. Of how his actions could bring about their own deaths and magnify the suffering of others.

When he is done, Primo’s brow was furrowed, but he did not appear overly concerned. “It is good that Void decided to interfere on your behalf. Not only for your sake. Now we know to be on guard.”

“True…” Secondo said, still feeling uneasy.

“That is a concern for tomorrow.” Primo squeezed Secondo’s shoulder in comfort. “Today you visit your ghouls, go to Terzo and Copia’s party. We can safeguard our ministry tomorrow.”

“You don’t know my plans for the day.”

“Are you saying you aren’t going to the party?” Primo cocked a brow.

Secondo huffed, and would not answer his brother. That was apparently enough for Primo. For he ushered Secondo from the chapel and out into the corridor. Assuring him that he will see Secondo at Terzo and Copia’s party. It was enough for Secondo to make his way down to where all the ghoul dens were located. Allowing his feet to carry him towards the den of his own ghouls.

He still found himself passing before the door a dozen times, before finally mustering the courage to knock.

There was a moment’s pause, then the door swung open. Mist standing there, wine glass in hand, her eyes widening as she took in Secondo standing in the doorway.

“Secondo!”

With one word, his own name, there was a great clamor behind the water ghoul. Exclamations of shock and delight from the younger ghouls. The twins crowded in behind Mist to catch even a glimpse of him on their stoop.

“Would I… that is – ah!”

Mist did not give Secondo even the chance to form his question. She hauled him in with one strong arm and steered Secondo to a chair. Bustling away to get him food and refreshment. All while chiding him for taking so long to come around again, and that if he thought to hide away ever again she would haul him out by his own ear. He was dragged, quite happily mind you, into songs and games and the sort of merriment he had avoided for years. They were all there when the Sibling from earlier knocked upon their den door. Seeking to collect the five marks from Secondo’s own hand.

“Generous of you,” Alpha said. The first he had since Secondo’s arrival. “I hope this isn’t a phase. If it is you’ll have more than Mist to contend with.”

“It is not temporary,” Secondo returned, “and if I ever do seem to regress I hope that you and Mist will see fit to take me to task. I do not want to return to being the man I was. I want— I need to be better.”

Alpha nods, surely pleased by Secondo’s statement. “Good, now help wrap up this food. We have a party to get to.”

To say that Secondo was not nervous would be a lie, dear reader. But we have seen him confront much, in this tale, and I can assure you he did not balk. He was laden with rolls and a salad and ushered to follow his ghouls out to the Southern Courtyard. Where Primo waited and Terzo greeted him with a jubilance many had not seen from the youngest Emeritus in a long time. So elated he was to see Secondo join them all. There were even more games, more fun, more happiness to be had!

At some point, after many hours had passed. When the food had been eaten and the punch drank and they were all content to sit under the stars and converse quietly, Copia approached Secondo.

“I’m glad you made it this year. I – eh – I take it things are better?” he asked.

“Things are getting better.” Secondo said, “You’re happy, right?”

Automatically Copia glanced back to Terzo who was laughing at some story Dewdrop was telling. “Yeah… yeah, I’m very happy.”

“Good.”

“Are you happy?” There was something so plaintive about Copia’s question that it hurt Secondo’s heart. That he could still care after Secondo was the one that had so thoroughly broken his heart. It was almost too much for Secondo.

“I’m happier than I was, and I think I will become happier yet with time,” said Secondo.

That seemed to relieve Copia, who left to rejoin Terzo after some more small talk. Secondo hoped that over time things would become less awkward between them. It would never return to what it was before. Secondo knows this. Yet to be friends again would be a great kindness.

“I’m surprised you let the Cardinal go,” Primo said.

“I just wanted him to be happy,” Secondo said. “That’s all I ever wanted for him. That’s what matters. I think I just needed to be reminded of where my priorities should lie.”

And Secondo was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more. He became as good a man, as good a Papa, as the ministry ever knew. Some were not pleased to see this new version of him, namely his father and Sister Imperator. That was expected. And with his knowledge he gained from his time with the Ghosts he was able to easily foil their plans as they arose. Overseeing Dewdrop’s transformation to ensure its success. Growing closer with the little ghoul as he helped with his recovery. The ghoul also seeming to bloom as they grew closer. Finding happiness in each other that they thought they would never have.

And it was always said of him that Secondo knew how to keep Yule well. If any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that truly be said of us, and all of us!

And so, as Dewdrop once observed, Happy Yule or some shit.