Orlando and Margarita were at a loss for words at the Peterson residence. The news that they were given was just so incredible. Orlando still had the note given to him by D'Merveille and it seemed that he was about to raise a fuss when his phone rang.
It was Romun.
Orlando began to wonder if the Angelo really was telling the truth.
Reluctantly, Orlando picked up the phone and answered it.
"Hey, Romun," he answered.
"Hey, Orlando," Romun replied.
"Oh, God," Orlando exclaimed. "I guess that means you really are at the North Pole."
"Yep," Romun replied nonchalantly. "How's Maggie?"
"She's fine," Orlando expressed. "She's getting ready for school today. But we've got plenty of time to talk before I go to work."
"Great," Romun replied jovially. "Oh, and D'Merveille wants to speak with you. In fact, you have to bring everyone else on the phone, too."
"I'll try," Orlando muttered.
So, he called for a group chat for Da Mirror, Jones, and Itan to participate in.
"Hey, Orlando," they all replied.
"What's up?" Da Mirror asked.
They didn't seem to mind how early in the morning it was.
Romun explained everything to them as best as he could.
"Whoa," Da Mirror exclaimed. "This is quite a surprise. Holmidae? Angelos? And now, we have holiday entities coming to life?"
"It is a bit of a stretch, I know," Romun admitted.
"A bit?" Jones chortled. "I'm amazed that the holiday spirits were made real in the first place by Jack. What the heck is his gain?"
"Something tells me that Jack might have an ulterior motive behind what he's been doing," Itan surmised. "Sure, there was the prophecy but I thought we already beat Kleftis. Why add more to the prophecy?"
"It's only part of the prophecy," Romun admitted for D'Merveille. "The Book of Prophecies written through the jack-o-lantern is just that. A book. Meaning more prophecies are still to come."
"Right," Jones muttered. "So, it's not over."
"The world needs what people like us can do," Romun answered. "So, it might never be over. But helping others is a great responsibility and I very much enjoy it."
"Yeah, but it's like Mr. Incredible said," Da Mirror began. "No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again." It gets a little frustrating after a while having to clean up the mess evildoers make."
"Ha-ha, yeah," Orlando chuckled unenthusiastically.
"Oh, hold on," Romun uttered. "D'Mort wants to talk with all of you."
Then, the voice of D'Mort came on the line.
"Thanks, Romun. Hello, everyone."
"Good morning, D'Mort," the Halloweeners answered.
"Now, I'm glad you're celebrating the defeat of that monster Kleftis," D'Mort began. "Hard to believe it's been eight months since that time."
"Yeah," Jones replied. "Well, I just hope beating him helped our families."
Was it just them or did D'Mort stop speaking for a bit?
Finally, Orlando muttered, "Don't tell me it didn't help them."
D'Mort sighed.
"No, it didn't."
"But it's not fair!" Da Mirror exclaimed in anger and frustration. "Exorcising Kleftis should've freed our families."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Damir," D'Mort replied. "When a wraith eats a soul, it's the same way as how a human eats food. It is broken down into energy and becomes part of the system. Those innocent people that he's killed were basically cells in his ghostly body. They lost their individuality and humanity and because digestion is a painful process for a living being inside of the stomach, all the victim will remember and feel is the pain of being digested."
At that moment, the Halloweeners all remembered the dream that they had. The dream of the white wispy souls writhing in agony and clutching at them with their damp and slimy fingers in the white curd-like mass.
They began to feel sick and anguish washed over all of them.
Itan, Orlando, Margarita, Da Mirror, and Jones began shedding tears but anger filled Damir's face more than sorrow.
"So, that's it?" Da Mirror grunted, grinding his teeth. "We beat him but in some way, Kleftis beat us? And I bet that exorcising him destroyed their souls, didn't it?!"
D'Mort made no reply.
"How could you not tell us this from the beginning?" Orlando exclaimed furiously.
"Orlando!" Jones replied. "Don't."
"Why not?!" Orlando shouted. "We had a right to know!"
"Kleftis has been exorcised," Jones blurted out. "Our families have been avenged. That's all that matters. I can assure you that Kleftis is paying for his mistakes in Hell!"
"I sure hope so," Da Mirror replied, cold fury still in his tone of voice. "I guess I can take comfort in that."
Orlando sighed, tears still flowing from his face.
"Maybe you two can. Me, I have to live with the fact that my courage was all for nothing. I wanted to tell my parents who I was, no matter how scared I was."
"Yeah," Itan muttered. "You had it easy. I still have to live with watching my mom and dad die right in front of me again and again and again. I'm glad Kleftis is burning for what he's done but I can't live with that memory in my head and this. I can't."
"Itan, what are you thinking?" D'Mort asked sternly.
But he made no answer and hung up the phone.
"Just when I was planning to do some voice work on a character in an animated movie I was in," Da Mirror muttered. "I think I'd rather kill myself than make music again."
"Damir, don't!" D'Mort demanded.
"But I'm not," Da Mirror replied. "I'm more sensible than that. For now, though, I think I need to be alone for a little while. Talk to you guys later."
"Of course, Damir," D'Mort replied. "Talk to you later."
And the remaining Halloweeners bid Da Mirror farewell and he hung up.
"Orlando, listen," Jones began. "Try not to do anything rash. I have a feeling Itan's grief is gonna overtake him. I don't want you following his example, okay?"
"Right," Orlando agreed.
"I'm staying positive through this," Jones added. "That much I know. Even though my family has gone through such a thing as that, at least they were avenged. That's one thing that's keeping me going. And you should take comfort in the fact that you still have your sister."
"I...I do," Orlando muttered.
"Good," Jones replied. "I'll check up on you later. Remember what I said."
Then, she hung up the phone.
Now, all that was left was Orlando and D'Mort.
"Orlando, listen to Kyla," D'Mort urged. "She's looking out for all of you. Don't let her help be ignored. I'm giving the phone back to Romun. I'll give you a moment to talk to him."
Then, Orlando heard Romun's voice, struggled as if he had been crying with him.
"Orlando, No one deserves to have such a thing happen to them. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. But you're not alone. If anything like that had happened to my family, I would be just as heartbroken."
"Romun, are you crying?" Orlando asked.
Romun sniffled.
"Does it matter? I know if anything ever happened to you, I would just die."
"I would never do anything to make you miserable," Orlando assured him. "Or my sister. I'd never forgive myself. Even in death."
Romun sighed.
"I hope after I talk some sense into Mama Noel, I can see you again."
Orlando chuckled as more tears came trickling down his cheeks.
"Me too. Just be careful."
"I will," Romun assured him. "I promise. Talk to you later."
"You too," Orlando replied.
And he hung up and turning around to see Margarita crying, he held her in his arms and cried with her.
Meanwhile, at Santa's workshop, Romun was crying in D'Merveille's arms, his tears running in bucketloads and dropping to the floor.
Amazingly, when they touched the floor, the tears burned through it as if it were acid. And as Romun continued to cry, the amount of force in the weeping caused his head to swell and bubble. Romun didn't even feel it or notice it as it was happening because he was too melancholy to notice.
The bubbling became greater and a mist came from his head and took shape. In place of the mist was a gigantic shining figure with a large sword that seemed to be made from the finest beryl money could buy. The figure filled the whole room, heating it up with such intensity that it seemed that the workshop would melt.
With one great leap, the figure phased into the floor and after a while, from where the spot it phased through was, tens of thousands of balls of light of many different colors shot out of it, phased through the ceiling and flew high up into the sky, fast like bullets. As they flew out of the ceiling, the balls took the shape of tens of thousands of multicolored people, men, women, and children. They rose higher and higher until they reached the atmosphere and from there, they vanished without a trace.
With all the wraiths gone, Romun suddenly felt tired and faint. He collapsed in Sabriel's arms and passed out. Sabriel signaled Father Christmas to help him and Father Christmas picked Romun up by the feet while Sabriel carried him by the arms. They brought the comatose Romun to the couch where he slept before and laid him there.
He looked so peaceful and yet so sad as the tears were still on his face in his sleep, having not noticed what he had just done.
...
Well, that was a somber chapter but as you've read, it seems to have turned out better in the end. What do think the balls of light were? Leave your thoughts in the comments section. Vote, share and add this book to your reading list.
And kudos to:
Cool05guy2000
Iris2032
FatmaAmir1
Without further ado, here is some music while you wait.