" It is the time of dark and of cold,” she said, “when the fields are unyielding with frost and life sleeps in the earth. During this time, the world dreams, and in her dreams, she relieves the past. Images of the dead appear to those who are aware enough to perceive them.”

“I know of this festival,” Shan said. “In our village, we would put out saucers of blood and milk for the spirits. Girls would wear red ribbons in their hair and the lads red garters on their knees. On the night of the Grave, we’d build a bonfire on the green, and dance in a circle to keep the spirits at bay.”

“These are old customs,” said Sinaclara, “memories of old practices. In ancient times, the Night of the Grave was called Aya’even, which in the old tongue meant the forest of the dead. It is but one point on the great wheel of life, death, and rebirth. Because of its associations with darkness and the dead, it has within it inherent hope, for without death, there can not be life. This is why it is celebrated by those who no longer remember its true meaning. The memory of that hope lives on. "

― Storm Constantine , The Crown of Silence (The Chronicles of Magravandias, #2)