The Graveyard Festival

Prologue - The Carnival

The carnival was still, like darkness, like death. A wrought-iron fence curved around the grounds, separating our world from the whimsical one within. The dark silhouette of a raven formed the gate, the wings twisting into the air like shadowy tendrils that disappeared into the starless night. Its body framed the elaborate gate, coils and curls of black metal curving upon themselves in a timeless dance as the unseeing eyes shifted under the moonlight, as though they followed you wherever you went.

Thana stood at the entrance, right in front of the Raven gate, mesmerized by the towering tents. They were colourless, like her and the graveyard she lived in—blackness.

And then all at once, they exhaled a thousand tiny, fluttering lights, like fireflies that had come to life. The lights sped along the edges of the tents and through the air like they had a life of their own, and settled in the skull lamps that carved paths through the carnival.

The winds rose from the languid air, whistling sweet things into her ears. Come in, they beckoned.

A step, then another. And into the carnival she went.