Unity Day has come and gone in Babel with little fanfare. The Coalition, which has risen in prominence since the General was forced from the Tower of Babel, held a token celebration of the day, and what they termed "Babel's promising new alliance with Rephidim." But most Babelites viewed that declaration with skepticism at best, and, more often, derision.

Midsummer's Day, however, is one holiday wholeheartedly embraced by the Babelites. Rory made plans to meet Dinahzadze at the Monument on this day, to pay homage to Skiree and Dinah's brother Reuben, and to, in the true spirit of the holiday, have a really good time.

The area around the Monument is packed. The skies are thick with fliers, and the platforms crowded with people. Candy skeletons dangle from perches, picnic blankets are laid out, musicians play and sing to the crowd, each in their own key and on their own song. Rory wonders how the Eeee, with their sensitive ears, can stand it. No wonder Dinah suggested they meet by a specific spot near the back side of the Monument. even so, it takes him a few minutes to spot her.

The little unicorn mage clip-clops along, peering this way and that, until he finally spots two triangles of fur that he thinks might be her ears. (Actually, he's not all that good at recognizing ears. It's more the way the ears are bouncing about with the sort of movement that suggests her unique mannerisms. But he doesn't put that much conscious analysis into his supposition. He just thinks of it as his finely tuned magician's intuition. Unless he's wrong, in which case he'll blame it on bad luck.) "Dinahhhhh!" he calls out, waving his hand wildly, causing his Obfuscate spell to pop in a silent burst of magic. (He's not scared of being in a place like this, but he tends to at least cover his tracks magically to and from much anywhere, for practice if not for "just in case" safety.) He clip-clops in the direction that he thinks his friend is, without waiting for confirmation, clutching tightly to a bag under his robes.

"Messenger Reee-ree-SHOCK! Yay!" Dinah's voice manages to pierce through the crowd, and she jumps above it to be more visible to him. Her jump is lent considerable extra altitude by the energetic flapping of wings, and she glides over to him. "Isn't this great I just love this time of year this is my favorite celebration EVER! don't you agree did you bring amber bugs and jelly squirmers this time wow! I love Midsummer's I bet Skiree and Reuben are having EVEN MORE fun!"

"I sure hope so!" Rory calls out, as he continues to rush forward, occasionally ducking, and being very mindful of his horn. Once he's within range, he reaches within the folds of his robe to pull out the cache of precious candy that he's brought for the occasion. He pats the full bag with some pride, owing to the fact that he's managed to resist the temptation to eat very much of it at all on the way over. "Jelly squirmers, crunchy crickets, candy whistles, amber pops, mountain-tops, skelly-pops, and – get this – I got this box of Xocholatl Surprises half off!" He pulls out a heart-shaped box – the ribbon hasn't been cut, but it looks like Rory gave it at least a half-hearted effort to try to open it at some point along the way.

"Wow!" Dinah's eyes turn huge as she stares at all the candy. She looks at Rory as though he had just brought out the finest treasures of the Tower of Babel and offered them to her. "Wow," she says again, momentarily speechless.

"And this one is really weird," Rory says, pulling a little wicker cage out of the bag. "They're candied bugs … that are still alive! They put candy coating on them. We're supposed to let them free, and they'll fly off to the Other Side. That is, if they don't get snapped up out of the air first. But it's the thought that counts, right?" The little wicker cage buzzes with agitated shiny insects bouncing against their confinement, anxious to get out.

Dinah nods energetically. "Those are the BEST! I can't believe you got some! Reuben's never gotten any of those before! They'll be even better than crackly crickets! Do you think we could have one? I bet Reuben would want to share! Wouldn't Skiree?"

Rory nods. "Sure! Half and half is fair, as far as I'm concerned. Besides, it's really kind of hard to control who gets them anyway, since, you know, they fly off every which way and all that. I hope none of them have eaten each other. But then, I suppose that'd just mean that the bug that ate the other one would be bigger, right? Or something like that. Oh well!" Rory blinks. "Oh! You mean 'we' as in us? Hmm. Well … I suppose a little sample wouldn't hurt. You know, to make sure they're okay to give as an offering and all. But they sure seem like a lively batch! I made sure not to get any that were expired already, even though those were on sale."

A great shadowy shape rises from the crowd near some decorative pillars that support nothing but the open sky. It unfolds into a billowy kite, given its shape by the breeze and by the strings towed by several young Eeee that trail it through the air. Two patches of white suggest eerie, ghostly eyes … and several smaller points of white suggest two rows of grinning teeth, giving it either a friendly or a morbid look, depending upon the viewer's inclination.

The throng around the two makes Dinah's usual emphatic, exclamation-point-laden speech more useful than normal, as they really do need to shout to be heard. Rory's ears have a little trouble picking up the nuances of her words at times, but her subject matter is familiar enough that he's not having any trouble understanding her.

A Fnerf whose rust-colored fur has been bleached patchily white dances through the crowd, carrying an instrument that consists of rows of hollow wooden tubes carved and painted to suggest bones, held in a framework that is supported with leather straps from his midsection and shoulders. He wears artistically tattered apparel – layered in white and gray – to add to the "ghostly" look, and he hammers at the "bones" with a couple of spindly rods, making a cheerful noise to those that can make it out. An entourage of Fnerfs and Eeee hops and skips along in his wake, some of them wearing costumes that suggest that they're part of his troupe, but most of them just tagging along and making joyful noises all their own.

The young batling with Rory pokes at his cage, make the bugs inside dance. She giggles. "They sure are! Do you wanna let one out now! Oh look at that kite! I love those style! Look behind it – it's an Avenger kite! Wow!" Indeed, another kite is coming up behind the first, a minute after it. This one has black 'wings' and body, too, but its glowing eyes are made by translucent green fabric, and instead of teeth, it has a cut-out in the shape of the a double-bladed axe's head.

At the sight of the kite, Rory can't help but burst out laughing, knowing as he does who the "Avenger" is – and as much respect as he has for the powerful Mind Mage, he can't help but imagine a sour, regretful look on Cyprian's face, were he to see this kite right now. Rory, nonetheless, does his best to cover it up, as he does still appreciate it. "All right!" he says, half-giggling. "Here goes one!" However, you can't free just one. "Yipe!" Rory squeaks, as no sooner has he opened the clasp, but the whole throng of little sticky-coated bugs bursts forth. He manages to force the lid closed again, but only in time to catch one bug (crunch!) and to leave perhaps two – no, three – bouncing around angrily in the cage. "Oh nooooo!" Rory laments as the others shoot off in random directions.

Dinah doesn't share the unicorn's dismay. She squeals in delight, and springs into action after one of the bugs. Chomp! Crunch! "Eeeeeeeeeee!"

Around them, various other members of the crowd – mostly children – also leap into action after the scattering bugs. Some parents grab for their children, admonishing, "Those are for the dead!" But most do not seem overly concerned about it.

Rory's lament soon turns into a snicker as he sees Dinah shoot after the bug. "You got it!" he cheers. "You're good!" Seeing the squirming, half-broken bug he caught under the edge of the lid, he pries it free and pops it into his mouth as he snaps the latch back in place. (Munch.) "Well, these three can wait a little bit longer. Now, all you bugs that got loose, you'd better fly off to the Other Side like you're supposed to! Or … or … well… " He can't think of an appropriate admonishment for the bugs, so he gives up, and goes back to looking at the others to see if he can spot any interesting costumes or kites or whatnot.

Quite a few of the people here are engaged in games of various sorts. One group has cleared out a section of space not far from where they are, and are playing what looks like a version of Blakat-ball. The game has remained popular, even though the priestesses that started it have fallen out of favor. Throughout the crowd, children, dressed in white, with skeleton masks, are playing a variation on "hide and go squeak": they represent the vengeful dead. Rory spots their target – a traditionally-garbed Babel villain, dressed as horrib-demon with an insect mask. He's hiding by one of the pillars, looking for a break towards his "safe" zone, no doubt.

"I see him!" Rory shouts, and points, before he has a moment to stop and think the better of it (seeing as he's not actually playing).

Another "balloon" drifts by … this one a miniature airship, with streamers for sails, and a decorated undercarriage suggestive of a funeral air-barge, made of paper, cloth and bits of shiny chitin and lacquered wood.

One of the play-spirit's ears swivel at Rory's cry, and the child squeaks in triumph, pointing as well. The vengeful dead gather around, then dive for the mock-demon in a wedge formation. The demon abandons his pretense at hiding, and soars for one of the platforms. He is tackled midair by the spirits, who bowl him down to the ground, throwing one picnic into disarray.

Meanwhile, Dinah has snapped up another couple of living treats, and is just now flitting back to Rory. "See who?" she asks. "Those living bugs are great! Skiree will love them! They wriggle in your throat! And they're sweet! Have you seen Trouble lately? He's getting fat from eating sweets! Did you want to go to Skiree's house afterwards? Or find some people to play with here? Or go to a hospice? Or save Babel from another attack by mean foreigners? Or what?"

"Oops!" Rory cringes at the disaster … and tries not to look especially guilty … or confused by the bombardment of questions. "Hey! I know! I have some paper, too! Want to make gliders?" He pulls out a sheaf of bleached thin parchment, upon which he's already written, in careful calligraphic strokes, prayers and blessings. (It's supposed to be good luck to catch one.) "I have some string to tie on candy, too, and I can fold them good enough to glide pretty good! The trick is in where you tie on the candy so the nose doesn't … " He sets down his bag long enough to pull out one of the sheets, and to start carefully folding it into a shape that might charitably suggest a somewhat rectangular 'Eeee spirit'. "See? It's easy!"

"If someone catches it," Rory explains, "then it means that your prayer goes to the one you wrote it to … and the person who caught it for you gets a blessing! Plus she gets the candy you tied to it, I guess. Though, in a way, the candy goes to the spirit world, too. It's … sort of a spirit thing, I guess. I just like throwing them, really."

"That flies?" Dinah says, squinting at it. "My mom folds them differently. Like an arrowhead. Here, give me one, I'll show you! And we can see if yours flies better! I bet my mom knows more about flying! Because she has wings and you don't!" The batling holds out one hand for a sheet, then seems to think better of her words. "Of course, she's not a messenger. So maybe you know better," she amends.

The pile of spirit-children and mock-horrib-demon sorts itself out from the picnic, with the children variously apologizing and fleeing. The horrib-masked kid divests himself of his mask, panting. He tucks it under his arm and marches determinedly towards Rory.

Rory hands over a sheet to Dinah, grimacing. "Well … it only flies well if I throw it just right. If I don't get it just right … well … I can make some pretty funny dealie-boppers that spin when you drop them off the edge. That's sort of flying, I guess, if you give them a good drop. But, hey, could you show me how she does it? I've never really seen someone do it proper. I just sort of worked it out after hearing about it at the Guild Hall." He ties a Purple Scarab to the back of the glider, and clambers up onto the edge of a statue pedestal. "Here's my glider, I hope it shows! To the sky, as the wind blows! Will it reach you? The Lord only knows. Hey Skiree, catch! HERE GOES!" He gives it a good toss, and blows after it for effect and good luck.

After joining him on the pedestal, Dinah takes the sheet. She watches while his wobbles and floats along on the breeze, then turns to her own, after a teenaged bat lunges for the purple scarab and snatches it from the air. Dinah folds the sheet with quick, practiced motions. It looks less designed to glide, or float, than to make a good projectile when thrown: it has long, thin, triangular wings, a pointed nose-end, and a little reservoir near the nose end for a candy to nestle into. "OK! I need a candy now!" she declares, on completion.

At this point, an Eeee with a horrib mask tucked under his arm lands next to the two of them on the pedestal. "Hey! You!" he says to Rory, pointing a finger at him accusatorily. The Eeee is older than Rory might have guessed, to still be playing games: he looks to be in his late teens.

Rory hops back down to snatch up his candy bag, then suddenly registers that, this close, the "Hey! You!" might very well be meant for him. He looks up, and squeaks meekly when he sees that the finger is indeed pointing at him. "Hey me?" he echoes, lip quivering.

"Yeah! You gave me away! And you weren't even playing!" the teen accuses Rory. "You know what that means?"

On the other side of the statue, a Creen-kite zips by, merrily oblivious to any confrontations going on below.

Dinah, unnoticed with her folded paper still in her hands, looks up. She blinks at the teen, then at Rory. "Wow! You gave him away to the revenants?" she says to Rory. "You can't do that!"

"Uhm … that means I'm really, really sorry and I won't do it again?" Rory offers, folding in on himself in a feeble attempt to disappear without the benefit of a spell.

"No!" The older kid throws the horrib mask to Rory. "It means you gotta be the demon this time!" He unties his fake stinger and second pair of limbs, too. "And I get to be a spirit! C'mon!"

"Can I be a spirit, too?" Dinah asks, standing, and still holding the prayer-glider.

"Uhm … can I send off a my paper gliders first?" Rory begs. "They're going to get all crumpled if I have all the revenants piling on me!" Remembering his mission of a moment ago, he hastily digs through his bag and pulls out the first candy he finds: an amber pop. Actually, he pulls out two of them, but he hands them both to Dinahzadze anyway.

"Uh … OK. You're not going to try to get out of it, are you?" the teen says, eyeing Rory suspiciously. "Don't think that you can sneak out on us! You're not exactly hard to recognize, you – oh – hey … you're that mage, aren't you?" He finishes, with rather less bravado than he'd started with.

"Well, yes, if I could sneak out of it and not get in trouble for it, I'd really like to," Rory says, "but I guess that's probably not allowed, huh? Do I get any special exceptions because I'm a mage? Or does that mean I'm in even more trouble now?"

"Oh, Reee-eeer-shock would never do that," Dinah assures the bat blithely. "Don't worry! And I bet you'll be super-dark-good at it, Rory! You're all sneaky and shadowy and stuff! Even if you can't fly. Not flying might make it hard," she reflects. "But still! You've got all that dark hiding sneaky magic powers-of-the-Sisters on your side, so you'll be great!"

"Well, yeah, that would be kind of handy," Rory admits.

"Except I'm a Shadow Mage, not a Powers-of-the-Sisters Mage," Rory corrects. "I don't think any of them loans out Shadow Magic. Though Barada would probably go for that sort of thing. I guess. I'm not really sure, honestly."

The unicorn is briefly lost in a moment of contemplation, whether that might be how the Yodhbarada know so much, though he doesn't voice his thoughts aloud.

The new bat seems emboldened by Dinah's assurance. "No, you're not allowed to sneak off," he says, trying to sound stern. "So you just get ready. And, um, your friend can be a revenant, too, sure. We'll be over there." He points to the base of one of the platforms, where the spirit-kids have re-grouped and are taking advantage of the shade. Most of them have stripped off parts of their outfits to cool off. "We'll pick a safe zone you can get to without flying, OK?"

"All right. How long do I have to get ready? Say, like, would twenty minutes or so be too long?" Rory asks, as he tries to fold another sheet of light parchment something like what he saw Dinahzadze do. "Do I fold it this way first … or … am I getting this right?" He holds up his handiwork.

Dinah fidgets with her glider, settling the amber pop into the crevice near the nose. She pokes a hole through the bottom of the crevice, threads a bit of string through it, and ties the candy down. Then she unwraps the second candy and starts sucking on it. She sits at the edge of the pedestal Rory had thrown the first glider from. "No, no, it's really easy. You folded it in half lengthwise, then you make a crevice in the middle around that fold, like this." She takes the paper from him, and show him. Then you just fold the corners into a triangle along the crevice. And you keep doing that a few times until it's really sleek."

The teen says, "10 minutes. Got it?"

A black kite, with a painted image of Sunala on it, and a white streamer, soars above. The deity's face has a painted white smile, making her look atypically beneficent.

"Uhm … oh, all right," Rory says, though whether to Dinah or to the unnamed teen, it might not be clear. He pulls out a little red hard candy and squishes it into a softer piece of xocholatl, and pressing it into the central fold of the glider. He hops up on the base of the statue pedestal. "To the Sea of Souls, to the Realm Beneath, I send you forth to soar! Bear to Sunala, this humble gift,my glider I do implore!" And then he hauls back and gives the glider a mighty toss.

Rory asides to Dinah, "I know Sunala isn't dead, but I figured since we're sending so much candy her way, she wouldn't mind getting some, too!"

Dinah stands with Rory, and throws her glider with his, while the former horrib-demon rejoins his friend. She hurtles her glider after Rory's. The variation she showed him does seem to fly a bit better than his previous model. Rory's flies far enough that it gets intercepted before landing, while Dinah's crashes to the ground, and is picked up by a stooping elder with a smile on his face.

Dinah looks disappointed. "Yours did go farther," she says, crestfallen. "But that doesn't count! Because you were using Mom's design! So it works for anyone!" This conclusion brightens her considerably. "How many more prayer sheets did you bring?"

"Oh! I've got … uhm … at least ten … minus three now, so that's seven left, about. You want another one, Dinah?" Rory offers, cringing at the glider crash. He already starts folding up another one, himself. "I've got charcoal, if you want to personalize it, too." He hands over another sheet, and digs out a charcoal as well, anxiously glancing in the direction of the departed teen.

"There's no way I'm going to have them all gone before I get clobbered by the Revenants," Rory says, mournfully. "So I'll just give the rest to you, okay? And I really appreciate you showing me how to do it. Your mom's design does work a whole lot better."

She takes the page, but waves aside the charcoal. "That's all right, I can't write anyway," Dinah says. "I'll sing mine to Reuben! and I'll take care of the other pages for you! They won't get squashed! And I they do I'll show you how to make a paper blimp! If I can remember. But I'm sure I can! It's really fun to do blimps! And you need crumpled paper for them anyway! So it'll be good! And you'll like being a horrib-demon! Or at least the sneaking part! I wonder if the mask will fit?"

"Oh well," Rory says. He ties on a packet with several little candied bugs into the central fold of this glider. "Off you go, as you are willed! A gift for so many friends who were lost at the Guild!" He lets loose with the glider. "Go go GO GLIDER!" he cheers.

Dinah launches her next one a few moments after Rory's, tucking a couple of crackly crickets into the nest. (Which is mostly made by crumpling the paper around that fold.) She sings, slightly-off-key, a traditional lullaby for the dead, with Reuben's name inserted into it as appropriate. Neither her glider nor Rory's flies very well, despite their best send-offs, but a couple of kids, having seen that they are launching, have gathered near the statue. So both get caught anyway, ameliorating the less than stellar flights.

Rory works up another glider, and crams some jelly squirmers down the fold. "All right, please spare me from wrath. Don't let those Revenants squish me, oh please, Rephath!" He lets loose the glider, and hastily surrenders the remaining candy and sheets to Dinahzadze. "Just in case I get squished, make sure the candy gets to Reuben and Skiree, please?" he pleads.

A stray breeze catches the glider, blowing it into the air. It rises, and is borne up and over the monument, vanishing from sight. "Wow!" Dinah says, not catching Rory's words, or his handoff, as she follows that flight. "Rephath will be with you for sure! We'll never catch you! That's so dark!"

"Well, I'd better hurry," Rory says, too anxious to notice the glider's flight. "If I'm going to do a spell at all, it'd better be quick!" The unicorn hops down from the pedestal, rushes over to the nearest halfway clear spot … takes a deep breath … then starts doing the Rory-Sneaky-Dance.

"I won't watch! I won't give you away! Not until we start to play, anyway!" Dinah promises. "I'm going to join the revenants now! C'mon over and let us know when you're ready!" She folds the sheets neatly, then tucks them into her belt, before half-flying, half-bounding off to join the group beneath the platform. "And don't forget to wear the horrib-demon stuff!"

"No problem!" Rory calls after Dinahzadze – or, at least, he mouths it, not noticing what with all the distractions, that he's not making any noise. To any observer, the horrib-demon costume pieces float off of the ground, hefted by unseen hands, hovering as they hang awkwardly on an unseen body. "I hope this spell at least gives me a little cover," the mask whispers, as it glides off.

Elsewhere, in a dreary place of ruined stone and an endless, silent expanse of stars, a platinum-grey Eeee in leather and chitin armor reclines on the edge of a stone railing. Her axe rotates slowly, weightlessly in space … and she munches on a handful of jelly squirmers.