This was how Candle-Day was celebrated by the Whos of Tolemac when Malachi and Ellie lived there as children. On the day before the actual holy one, all manner of preparations would be made for the sake of safety and comfort for the night to come. When daylight was still upon them, the citizens gathered in Sir Kevan's Park where all the furnishings for the feast had already been prepared; and as the sun set, all the citizens of good sense would make sure to surround themselves with their loved ones. The reason being that upon twilight, when the last drop of sunlight gold had disappeared beneath the horizon, all the standing lights would be shut off until Candle-Day itself had ended. The standing lights included ceiling lights and lamp posts and fireplaces but excluded hand-held things like torches and little lamps and makeshift campfires which were considered wandering lights. The wandering lights would also be shut off but only for a comparatively short while.

What made the matter of safety even more pressing was that when the sun had set, ushering in the Eve, all would have to behave as though jinxed. That is to say, everyone present- without privilege or exception -would have to spend the time after twilight behaving as though they had no voice. This silence would remain until it was broken by the Lighting of the First Flame, when the leader of the community would step forth into the very heart of his people and set alight the first of the wandering lights. If the light burst forth for him, then it was said that Causality Himself had called the leader by his fate.

In ancient days, the leader would start a fire and those closest to it would set alight their torches with the flame and they would use their torches to set alight the unlit torches of those around them. In his day, Mayor Pelton used an electric lamp; and all his people used similar devices for the sake of safety. Yet, the ancient practice was succeeded by having those devices unlit until switched on from neighbour to neighbour. And Pelton did make the effort of not only switching on his own lamp but the lamps of those around him. As he did, he called them by their fates and those others would, in turn, call their neighbours and fellows and kinsmen by their fates and set alight their wandering lights.

When there was not a wandering light left unlit in the convocation, then the leader would begin to sing the Song of the Nightlight. The song had, by then, already moved from Realm to Realm, from people to people, tongue to tongue, war to war, circumstance to circumstance but, though the letter may have changed, the spirit of it remained the same from age to age. In his term, Mayor Geoffrey Pelton of Tolemac led his citizens in singing this version- without instruments and by voice alone, as was the custom:

Don't weep tonight my child

Though thunderclouds abound

For the sun will come back to us soon

Bringing with it a sweet summer tune

Sleep sweet tonight, my dear

Don't fear the coming trial

You just do your best

And leave fate with the rest

You'll see it all worthwhile

I promise you, my love

Someday the war will end

And your brother will find his way home

From wherever on earth he now roams

Oh please cheer up, old friend

You will find love anew

And she'll share your dreams

And you'll make her your queen

A fairy tale come true

Don't fear the ticking clock

There is a loving God

And he'll hold you the moment you wake

With a kiss he will soothe every ache

I know you're all grown up

I know it seems I lied

But I swear it's true

That happy days are soon

My child, don't weep tonight

When the song was finished, and everyone fell silent again, Pelton held high his electric lamp- which he lit instead of a flame -and began his speech.

Tonight, we declare the impending doom of winter! Tonight, we declare the coming forth of spring! Tonight, we declare the mortality of the night; and the diligence of the day! However long these things may take, we declare that they are coming! And that they shall never stop coming to our rescue! In our blessed age of modernity and alethurgy, it is often easy to forget the ages of fear before us. Now that we are sure of the food on our tables and the roofs over our heads, it is easy to take for granted the certainty of relief. Yet such a thing would have been a miracle to our ancestors, who did not know- as we do in our lifetimes -the beginnings and ends of seasons down to the day and the hour. For them, every night was a long night, every winter was a curse and every storm brought with it the threat of a flood. Tonight, we remember our forerunners, whose courage to reap and sow for the future that they could not foresee have left us where we are today. By faith, hope and love, we stand here now. By the blood, toil, sweat and tears of those with fewer reasons to believe than any of our privileged generation will ever understand, we live and breathe now. We have come far, but we still have far to go. There are many illnesses and sorrows that plague even our lifetimes and we may not live to see them cured. Though we now know that winter, and the night will cease, there is no such certainty concerning the Medusa Plague, or the winds of poverty that have stripped the heartlanders from their ancestral homes and may very well come for us next. Yet, we can hold fast. We can take up the sword against these evils though we may not see the battle's end. Tonight and tomorrow are times for charity, for neighbourly affection, for courage, for heroism. On this Candle-Day, and indeed every Candle-Day from the Underground's founding, we proclaim that evil will not last forever! Neither the evils of nature or culture! We proclaim that the sun will shine upon our kin again! And, most importantly, we swear to be candles for our brother-and-sister-Whos until that blessed dawn so that when the sun rises and looks down upon us, she will not see foes and servants of the dark; rather she will see her fellowship. She will look down and smile upon us! Let it be then, that in defiance of this horrid night, we make merry and be jolly to one another! By decree of Mayor Geoffrey Pelton of Tolemac, let the feast begin!

And so the crowd, already restless, very hungry and terribly bored dispersed at once and began going about trampling over each other and shoving and gossiping and finding their little tribes. Fires were started and the grilling began. Soon, lines were formed and within the first two hours of night, everyone was seated at a table, taking in the delight of Candle-Day cuisines. All except for Cindy.

Cindy, for reasons that should be obvious, never liked the twilight ceremony of Candle-Day. She had often felt, on some level, that it was a cruel tradition designed to exclude her. When she grew up she understood that to be impossible but only in the mind. In the heart, she was still very much offended by the practice. So it was that Smith consented to waiting until the feast was already underway before parting ways. When Cindy questioned why he didn't simply join or even compete himself, his reply was...

The less business I have with Overseers, the better. Besides, I've got errands to run tonight. I have put them off until now solely for your sake but I can put them off no longer. However, do not be fooled. I am with you anyway. Though I do not believe in the Overseers, I believe in you. In you, I put my faith. Now go and show them all why I am right.

And with that, he got in his autocar and disappeared beyond the view of Sir Kevan's Park. Then Cindy passed through its gates, mustering all the courage she could find in order to keep her legs moving onward.

Despite her feelings towards the ceremony, she remembered adoring the dinner as she adored all well-made meals shared in good company. Yet, her dining company for that night would not be Minnie or Eddie or Tom Jr. or Anna or anyone of their like. And though it meant she did not have to eat alone, it proved just as, if not more tedious, to share the company of other contestants- all of whom were seated in tables of five in the order of their appearance. Nothing much of note happened during those first few hours. In fact, they seemed to go on from forever to forever- as uneventful hours do. Some of the contestants did try to make conversation but they became discouraged from including Cindy when they saw that she couldn't reply without the notepad; and they didn't quite like the sight of her taking out papers and writing things down while they were eating. And, quite frankly, she didn't like using her pen with sauce-covered fingers.

By the time her plate was empty and her appetite was full- which was a pleasant change of pace to be sure -Cindy found herself so out of place and with so little to do that she began shrinking into her seat. Her arms and shoulders retreated deeper into her frame and she wound up with the posture of a perched vulture. She was rather tempted to get up and walk off and see if any of the other party-folk would make better company. However, when she looked around, most of what she saw were the worst kind of familiar faces. Face after face of men and women Cornelia had brought home to sweeten up. Face after face of Whos who did not seem to question being waited on by a pre-teen girl. And despite their well-mannered postures during the present feast, she knew well what would become of them after, on average, a glass or two of wine. All their disgusting habits had already been made bare to her in meetings prior since it was she who had to clean up after them. As such, she was not, in the least, impressed by their manners. Especially since, though they were ostensibly ladies and gentlemen, she had already observed a number of them to still be...

...selfish, ignorant, loud, obnoxious, condescending, self righteous-

You are noble. Not just by birth but by character... And that beauty, that goodness in your eyes, either you give it up or it is yours forever. Be good.

Her mother's words rang clearly within her as if they were real words spoken by a flesh-and-blood person sitting to her right; though, of course, there was no one there but another contestant. Regardless of their physical presence, the words seemed to condemn her own uglier thoughts and so she kept those thoughts quiet for a time in obedience to her mother's ghost.

I understand, Mama.

Then the exciting thing happened. And it happened very obviously. From the firmament, there descended, a car. Not an autocar like the ones running through the roads of Tolemac. No, this was a carriage of old. Only its wheels were not rolling on stone but on clouds. And the horses leading it were white and winged with single horns on their foreheads. In the sky, the carriage looked even more luminous than the moon in all her silver splendour. And as it landed just beyond the borders of the park- with all the party getting up and walking over to watch -the cloud beneath it vanished into the rock of the road and, from the door, stepped out the Overseers. And not merely two or three but the whole stock: Father, mother, a sister and two brothers all emerged from the carriage.

As they approached the gates, the citizens fled their arrival like students catching wind of a teacher's approach: all getting to their seats and pretending as though they were not rather callous before and on their best-est behaviour now. And even Cindy was not totally immune to that effect. Though she made a point to not be caught staring, she found it hard not to look and on account of the stolen glances she did manage, she was rather happy at not being hindered by dark lenses for the sight was deeply exotic and mysterious and awesome- twas like the sight of storybook characters walking about in flesh and blood.

To begin with, it wasn't very obvious that the guests were even Who-ish, or even if they had come in appropriately formal dress, since each wore a cloak which covered much of their person and they had, all of them, decided to keep their riding hoods over their heads during the entry. Nevertheless, though the party could not yet pass judgement on the things hidden, they very eagerly judged the things revealed- that is, the cloaks themselves -and none of the onlookers could deny that the garments were all of exquisite make. And, indeed, all of them were of the same make with the main differences being the sizes- differing according to age and build -and the varying colours. And indeed, each of the five wore a cloak of a different colour. The father's was the green of a forest. The mother's, the red of a rose. The daughter's was white as marble. And, of the two sons, the elder wore shadow-black while the younger wore the blue of a jay.

When the blessed stock, at last, arrived amidst the dining tables, Mayor Pelton got up- as if he had just realised their arrival -and rushed towards the father who, for his part, seemed happy to see him. At once he threw back his riding hood, prompting his wife and children to follow suit. And, in such a way, their quality wigs and masks and gloves became semi-public knowledge, sending the crowd into a flurry of gossip.

Silencer!

Geoffrey.

Then Pelton's whole stock went after him and met with the Silencer' companions. And there, in the middle of the whole affair, the two caught up as old acquaintances- each showering the other with compliments about the wit and virtue and beauty of the other's wife and the growth and learning and manners of the other's children. This went on for about two or three minutes until, at last, Pelton turned and declared...

A round of applause for the Lord Overseer! For Silencer! Best of fellows! Best of men! For the Lady of Stallion's Rest! Cheers for the Chainbreaker! A woman of valour and grace! For their children! The firstborn! The heiress and champion of the Mist: the Petalwalker! The first son and secondborn hero, full of devotion and talent: the Guardian! And the youngest, wise and strong beyond his years: the Boyscout! Arise and welcome our protectors!

Then the crowd erupted in cheer- as if they had been holding their breath right up till then -and when the standing ovation reached its, admittedly awkward, stop, Pelton led the Overseers to their tables. They only ate very little. And, indeed, they had missed most of the feast. A great many rumours circled round the party as to why that was. Rather impressively, the one that prevailed in popular opinion was right on the dot, truth-wise. And the truth was that the Overseers had just attended another feast where they had already eaten their dinner. So it was that, a very short time after their arrival, the Battle of Lyrics began.