The Veilheim field hung in the last glow of autumn. A spot where past dreams nearly touched present air, especially tonight - right before Samhain slipped into stillness, swapping its sharp, beloved hush for winter’s quiet hold. The air had a scent of frosty apples, yet also something old - kinda like crushed amethyst. Eryx showed up on a breeze glowing faintly with early sun, his fur lit by the fading glow of the harvest moon. A striking figure - he looked like chaos made beautiful, splashed in reds and browns, standing bold amid the slow-rising gray mist. One strong flap from his huge winged feathers, edged in sharp radiant light, stirred waves of heat into the cold space around him. Pure light given form - that’s what he was - and right then, totally out of patience. Must we keep waiting till the universe’s timer hits nothing? Eryx muttered, but his tone had a soft rhythm, even if he was restless. He touched down close to the middle of the field, where the breeze stirred old songs through the blades. Over there, the soil rose gently on its own, shaping a space meant for ceremony, ringed by upright rocks pulsing with quiet energy. Waiting on him stood the Lich Twins - Freyja next to Gabriel. Each step they took felt slow, careful, like clockwork ticking through silence. Their job? Overseeing what comes after breath stops. Freyja, the horse tied to nature’s pulse, set down the group's gear. Light slipped into her mottled fur like water into stone - still, her form cut sharp against the dark, edged in bright skeletal lines. Not pretty, not scary, just there, standing with heavy bones jutting from her back, pulled close like frozen tree trunks half-buried in wet soil. She didn't blink or shift; eyes locked ahead, caught up in what needed doing. Her brother Gabriel - his role tied to the Arcane - moved quietly through the brush. Not far behind him, energy flickered, rising from the bony ridge along his spine like heat off stone. Quiet power clung to him; each gesture flowed into the next without rush or pause. Glyphs formed beneath his hooves, glowing faintly against the damp moss as they took shape. "Patience, Eryx," Gabriel murmured, his voice resonating with deep, low tones, like the stirring of a sleeping mountain. "The Gate of Whispers does not close on a whim. Samhain demands a respectful dismissal." "Respectful dismissal," Eryx scoffed, flicking his feathered tail. "I've been respectfully dismissing shadows for three hours. The frost is settling, Gabriel. Soon, we'll need to use my Light not just to purify, but to thaw you." Freyja finally looked up, her expression unreadable but perhaps tinted with amusement. "We require balance, Eryx. Your Light fights the necessary darkness. Gabriel and I established the framework for the transition. The arcane secures the boundaries; the nature element ensures the fertility of the rest." “Then I hurl the leftover trouble straight into nothing," Eryx said with a grin, flaring his wings just enough that the grass below lit up for a second. The ritual marked the year’s shift in Veilheim - an essential close that shut the gaps Samhain opened, guarding the realm till time circled back. With it came reliance on four forces to steady the change: Arcane gave shape, Nature carried rhythm, Light cleaned what lingered, yet… Eryx stopped, his smile slipping away. "So where's the ballast?" Gabriel brushed aside the glowing particles of a hidden trap. "Close now." Eryx traced Gabriel’s stare, narrowing his eyes beyond the upright rocks, aiming at the far edge of the open field - where frostbent weeds faded into the crooked woods’ dim reach. In that spot, crouched close to the soil, waited the last contender. Everheart. He always stayed apart, never really fitting in. Not just quiet but known for it. That soft pink shade? Like morning light on wet soil. Built solid, like something coiled and ready - no grace, all power. Instead of feathery wings or bare ones, he had these tough, scaly flaps pressed close to his back. Almost like they didn’t want to be seen. He belonged to earth - solid, steady, grounding. Yet painfully quiet inside. "Oh, for Roric’s sake," Eryx muttered, his patience snapping. He took a single, powerful step toward the edge of the ritual circle. His "rude to outsiders" tendency flared up instantly. "Everheart! Are you planning to participate in the sealing of the veil, or are you hoping the shadows mistake you for a particularly well-camouflaged clump of moss?" The Earth stallion jerked hard, his scaly wings pulling tight to his sides. Silent now, he blended in quickly, like he wanted nothing more than to vanish right into the dirt beneath him. Eryx sighed, the sound loud and theatrical. "Look, I need to go to sleep once this is done. If you don't anchor the magic, we'll all be wandering around in a half-arcane, half-light purgatory until spring. Move it." Freyja's calm stare rose, locking onto Eryx. Not harsh - just clear. A quiet signal meant to stop things before they started. Nature didn't care for fights that could be avoided. Gabriel stepped in smoothly, his Arcane presence overriding Eryx’s sharp impatience. "Everheart," he called, his voice now lower, imbued with soft, reassuring power. "The energies are pulling apart. We require your grounding. The transition from the revelry of Samhain to the stillness of the deep year requires a deep, silent root. Only you hold it." Everheart paused. Sure, he cared for the place - but being watched? No way. Deep down, everything told him to stamp his feet into the wet ground and vanish. Yet something tugged back - the open field whispering, nature’s urge pressing hard on his quiet soul. That leftover chaos from the last season still hung around - echoes, laughter, thin trails of dark magic - nudging loose parts from within. He moved ahead slowly, each step careful, his hooves pressing into the grass - drawing in raw power right away. His big head hung down, weighted with strength. Eryx kept his eyes on the Earth stallion as it slowly edged toward the circle’s border. When Everheart shifted, the ground felt alive - grass rustling like a soft breath following his steps. “Okay," Eryx said, letting go of his harsh tone - right away shifting into someone gentle, the kind who guards delicate stuff. “Stay right where you are, Everheart. Don’t wobble or collapse. We’re counting on you staying upright” Everheart gave a quiet nod, stepping carefully to the west side of the ringed stones. Not saying a word, yet breathing slow - pulling strength up from below into his center. Unlike blazing spells or glowing beams, his power came from weight, endurance, the kind of calm that never breaks. Once the four were together, the last part of Saying Goodbye to Samhain kicked off. Gabriel raised his chin; right then, the marks he'd drawn started rising in a slow swirl, thin trails of purple and gray curling through the air near the tall rocks. That’s how the magic held everything together - locking the barrier tight by pure force of will. "Down from the stars, yet up through the roots, it still stands," Gabriel said, his words bouncing softly in the quiet spell-hush. Freyja came behind, her tone quiet and crackling - like kernels shifting on barren soil. Not via blossoms did she pull nature’s strength, yet by letting go, getting ready. A glow from her skeleton flared up, buzzing with soft green light that poured downward, making sure only time was locked in - not the spark of living. Wings made of bone eased open, giving off a chill calm - the kind that knows endings feed beginnings. Freyja said, “Life fades into stillness, flames turn to dust - yet out of quiet comes a new beginning.”. Eryx took in the calm setup, then let go of his glow. Not a smash - it rolled through like warm wind tinged red and gold. His bird-like wings snapped wide; bright specks shot off, zipping around like live embers hunting hidden corners. Each flicker chased leftover gloom, scraps of noise from Samhain’s playful chaos. That light cleaned everything, shutting down dark traces - no fear stuck behind, no sly echoes hanging on. "Shadows pull back into the dark core, held by flame or honesty," Eryx muttered, light wrapping around the magic frame while nature stayed steady. Now came Everheart's moment. His role mattered more than anyone else's. When his connection to earth wavered, the blend of light, arcane, and nature could spin loose - making the shift unstable. That slip might let wild magic seep through by midwinter. His skin prickled under their gazes - Eryx’s especially - and fear rose fast in his chest. Yet below that jolt, something steady pulsed through the ground. It knew him. This place remembered his steps. Everheart planted his hooves, pushing down hard. No flashy moves, no loud shows - he just focused. Inside, he tapped into quiet strength, like rocks shifting slow under mountains or how mud stays silent below water. His pale blue fur slowly turned darker, more like soil soaked by rain. His rosy wings flattened against the earth, feeling the whole world’s heavy pull. A weight dropped from within him - not loud or bright, just still. That quiet held everything together. Magic locked into place. Wild energy started moving steadily. Eryx’s light eased down, not pushing anymore - just lying there like warm sun on soil. The mix of those four things formed a quiet, flawless magical bubble over Veilhiem field. Leftover wild forces from Samhain - chilly gusts, soft ghostly laughs - pulled back sharply, not wiped out but folded into the ground-bound dome, held tight till next season. The air changed fast. Not long ago, there was that thick smell of phantom smoke - but now it’s gone, swapped out with a crisp hint of frost-heavy days ahead. Magic had been building up tight, but just snapped loose, dropping everything into a stillness like glass. The ritual had ended. With Samhain gone, it faded into silence. Freyja with Gabriel dipped their heads, the bony shapes along with mystical marks quietly vanishing. The build stayed intact. Eryx allowed the glow to fade, tucking in his broad wings - feathers rustling like wind through leaves. The usual tiredness crept in after the rite, that warm ache from pouring out every bit of radiance. He glanced toward Everheart. The big horse from Earth stayed close to the dirt, puffing hard, inch by inch letting go of the heavy load he’d carried. His moves were spot on. Eryx moved toward him, his typical sharp energy now soft like morning light. Everheart stiffened, bracing for some mocking jab about being quiet or slow - but Eryx just paused next to him, eyes gentle instead. "That was… excellent anchoring, Everheart," Eryx said, the praise genuine. "You are truly the quiet backbone of this whole ridiculous operation." Everheart raised his head, caught off guard. Compliments from the blazing angel hardly ever came. No reply formed - just a quiet, hesitant tilt of the chin. "See?" Eryx continued, nudging the Earth stallion gently with his muzzle. "You don't need to melt into the dirt. We need you. You’re the only one who can handle that kind of deep stability." Gabriel moved closer, while Freyja followed - both faces showed it had worked. "The seal is firm," Gabriel announced. "The year is safe. Deep thanks to all." Freyja gave a quick nod toward Everheart, then shifted focus to the leftover bits of magic dust, quietly starting the careful job of winding down the ritual area. With the two lich angels, tasks kept coming one after another - there wasn’t ever a real finish line. Eryx shook himself, his cherry-colored coat shimmering in the moon's final gaze. "Well, my work is done. I shall see you three when the sap rises again. I need to spend the winter storing light and yelling at clouds." He pushed Everheart gently - just once - a quiet sign that meant more than words, so the guy from Earth didn’t feel quite so alone. With a strong flap of his bird-like wings, Eryx shot up into the air - a bright flash of red climbing high over Veilhiem’s field, carrying brightness away while the ground settled in for quiet times that stretched far ahead. Everheart stayed put, a low hum of relief spreading through his chest. The field hushed up fast - Samhain’s wild spark fizzed out, swapped for something deeper, like soil breathing slowly. He held there another moment, watching till the Lich Twins scooped up their gear and slipped between trees without a sound. Finally by himself, Everheart slumped a bit. Out here at the edge, everything stayed soft, hushed, sorta hidden - yet warmth now hummed under his skin. Carrying the past months’ load had changed something; somehow it dug up a quiet kind of power from within. His pink dragon wings stretched wide, though not for flying, just to catch that sharp breeze sliding across each scale - the way calm roots into your bones when you’re exactly where you should be. The farewells were done, yet the field - where he’d lived - was secure. So now, the deep rest could finally start.