The Hunt of the Autumn Spirits

The boy shook his head, suppressing tears. He stood before the village council. "It was just a dare," he whispered, trying to shake away the screams still ringing in his ears.
"The spirits will not be pleased about this," an elderly man muttered. "And you think the mayor will?" Another snapped. "Use your head! Or we'll all lose ours." "What are we to do?" The boy's mother whispered, clutching him close to her.
"It will be all right," the old man said reassuringly. "Now tell us what happened one more time."
The boy's face was pale, but he took a deep breath and spoke shakily. "The two of us were standing outside..."

---

The two friends stood outside, looking out at the vast stretch of night sky before them. The wind bit at their ankles and ears, and a few people could be heard singly softly in their homes. There would be no autumn festival - not tonight, at least. Not after the tree had been three separate sightings of a black-crested owl. Best to remain at home set up the proper wards, and get to sleep early. All the buildings were draped with orange cloths. The small human sized homes looked small when compared to the dragon sized buildings - especially the Hall of Wings. Soft lights glowed in the windows, making the darkness past the village seem even more cold.
"I dare you to call the Darkbringers," Evan said, elbowing his friend. Alvin shook his head.
"Father will be expecting me..." he cast a longing look back to the inviting glow of the buildings.
"Too scared?" Evan teased. "It's okay. I get it."
"I am not scared!" Alvin protested. He groaned. "Very well, I will do it."
He squared his shoulders, walked out into the center of the cloud, and began to sway back and forth, humming a strangely enchanting tune. Suddenly, his arms snapped out to the side, and he stomped a foot, the sound echoing strangely in the night air. Evan shuddered, suddenly unsure of himself. Alvin gave no notice. He began to chant the words of a children's play song. "When thunder cracks without the rain, when shadows fall on clouds again, when people fear the bloodless stain, the storm shall walk and then shall reign."
He cracked an eye open and looked at Evan. "There," he said. "You see? I did it." Evan gave him a shaky grin, and they both tried to ignore the sudden feeling of dread that washed over them.
That was when laughter echoed back at them, and suddenly voices chanted: "Shout out the names and sing loud the ranks. Darkbringer, Stormwalker - Reaper they flank. Spirits of shadow, in autumn they sift. Thrice speak the words and they'll give you a gift."
The two friends stared at each other, petrified, too scared to move. Alvin met Evan's eyes and raised his eyebrows, as if asking, should I? Petrified, Evan slowly shook his head. Alvin grinned, and turned to face the dark.
"Darkbringers," he shouted in a clear voice that rang through the still air, choosing the lowest and least powerful rank of the autumn spirits. An owl hooted in the distance. Evan felt a thrill race through him - what was about to happen? "Darkbringers," Alvin continued. He hesitated, looking once again at Evan. "Darkbringers," he spoke aloud.
Wind crashed into them like a tidal wave. Evan stumbled back and crashed to the ground. All that he saw upon standing was Alvin's terrified face, swallowed up in a swarm of shadow. Ethereal whispers beckoned Evan forward, then all was black and silent once more.

---

The village council sat in silence the only sound coming from the crackling fire. Evan's mother hugged him tighter. The old man was staring blankly at Evan, lost in his own thoughts. "I suppose there is nothing to do but tell the mayor," he said. "Or," he continued, speaking loudly over the sudden upheaval of disagreement. "In the best interests of young Evan, we simply say the boy was lost. The mayor will want justice for his son's death, even if there was no one at fault. What happened was a terrible thing, and Evan has made a terrible mistake, but this must be a cautionary tale, and not one eclipsed by an exile. Evan - return home and go straight to bed - put on orange nightclothing. Everyone else, help me to set up additional wards." They continued to speak, but their words were lost to the chanting ringing in Evan's ears. His mother ushered him out of the room. They dashed through the streets, wanting to be outside for as little time as possible.
Just before they reached their house, a faint glow appearing in front of Evan. He slowed, stumbling back. It was Alvin...if Alvin was an intangible, glowing spirit.
"They are hunters," Alvin whispered. "They hunt during the night. From now on, they...we...will hunt you."
His face twisted into an evil grin as he disappeared. Evan ran home and leaped into his bed, shivering under the covers. He had thought that, for an instant, he could see regret and sorrow on Alvin's face, before it was eclipsed by malice.
They hunt on the night winds, he thought. Creatures best left alone...a hunt of the autumn spirits.

The Spirits have long been a part of Skydweller culture - so much that even after the skyshattering, many of their tales and rituals are still known. During the months of spring and summer, benevolent spirits fly the skies at night, granting wishes and rest to weary travelers and watching over the innocent and vulnerable - known as Starwalkers, Lifebringers, and Caretakers. As the seasons change to autumn and winter, more sinister spirits roam the night. - Darkbringers, Stormwalkers, and the most feared of them all - the Reaper. Best to lock your doors and hope that they leave you and your family alone, which they generally will - unless you attract their attention.

Scholar's Note

The sky is a world of magic. As such, it is impossible to completely disprove many myths, but I think that this is one of the more outlandish ones - though it is still prevalant in many stories today. While the spirits of summer repeatedly show up to save heroes at the last second or bless them with small magical items, the dark spirits shift from being night huntsman that hate to be disturbed to full-on villains that feed on the souls of weary travelers.

Through these myths, we can peer back into the past to see what it may have been like to live in the past. Would you have been one of the daring ones who seeks a gift from the dark spirits, or who entrusted their fate to the light ones? Would you have stayed in your home, singing softly and draping your house in shades of orange and brown to create a safe space?

These people were afraid of the unknown - but also eager to discover more about it. They loved thrilling tales and daring chants, but enjoyed being able to curl up in their beds at night, safe with the knowledge that they would not wake up as a ghost. They were creative in their stories, but practical in their superstitions. This reflects the balance of their life, and gives us insight into the society that we enjoy today.

The light ones laughed merrily

The dark ones lurked scarily

I ventured out warily

Though stopped momentarily

Upon seeing the light

In the darkness of night

Though feared I the blight

Took hold of the right

Hilt of my sword

And honor of word

The song struck a chord

It was then that I heard

A fast ringing bell

My heart did swell

My fears did it quell

Yes; I could tell

There was a spell

Inside the knell

Great magic did dwell

And evil it fell

I grabbed hold of my ward

And with cry of bird

Ran bravely toward

Second light from the third

The wind did bite

Fire burning bright

And ire of flight

Not all black and white

I heard one laugh airily

Swung my sword voluntarily

The light ones gave charity

Victory! - most extraordinarily.