Chapter Text
There was no view more beautiful than the lights in the sky.
The boy knew he should’ve been asleep by now. Mother would certainly have him for days of trouble if she ever caught her son awake this late at night to look at the sky, of all things. He was nine years old. Mother would’ve scolded him, saying he was a growing young boy, that he was frying his brain by staying awake. His mother had repeated this conversation endless times before.
Yet… this was a breathtaking view. One which couldn’t be seen at any other evening in the year.
It was dark outside. The child could faintly see the dim lights from other nearby households on the street, alongside the streetlights, yet the things in the sky were the most brightest thing. The dark oak of his desk lit up ever so slightly as the lights outside began to float, higher and higher.
He knew better than to make any sound. Any sound may awake Mother, and Mother may come inside his room to catch the boy in the act of staying up late. Cautiously, though still eager, he pulled himself up onto his room’s desk to look at the lights closer.
It was funny, almost, seeing the little specks of light in the air. The distance between him and those lights was far, of course. The lights could barely be deciphered from the stars in the moonlit sky. The only thing telling them apart was their warm-toned colour, and how so many of them seemed to fill up the empty night sky in comparison to a normal evening.
So many small specks of light in the sky… it made the boy continue to stare up at them in awe. They brightened the night sky so greatly, even from afar. He couldn’t tear his fascinated gaze away.
His tiny hands reached out against the cold glass of the window’s surface as he leaned his head as close as he could to continue watching the lights.
A completely, utterly breathtaking view.
Though the boy couldn’t help but wonder… why did this happen?
He watched this same view, from this same window, at the same time, enough times to notice. Right once the clock hit midnight, when the date changed to the twenty-fourth of August, the midnight sky would be filled with a beautiful scenery of lanterns afar in the air.
Frankly, it felt as though he was breaking a rule. Which he was—sort of. He was staying up, ruining his much-needed rest to look above at the lights illuminating the sky. Mother would’ve yelled at him if she ever caught him doing this.
Yet the boy could never bring himself to sleep in the early, early morning of his birthday. Not when there were beautiful lights in the sky once it hit midnight, enlightening the whole dark sky. His gaze was stuck in trance, watching the lights through his glass window in complete awe. His heart was beating in adrenaline—he knew there was a chance of Mother catching him in the act of breaking her rule, yet he continued to watch.
It felt like some birthday present. One which the boy found the most beautiful, best gift of them all.
He would be awake once the clock hit midnight, watching the whole evening of these lights float through the sky until he either fell asleep or the sun rose. Then, coming that morning would be the daunting routine of his birthday. He would be wake at sunrise, eat breakfast, have a health and nutritional birthday cake made by his mother: made up of the healthiest (and disgusting) of options, before going back to his study routine which his mother had so kindly prepared for him…
The child shook his head before pressing his forehead against the cool surface of his window again. He didn’t want to think about what would happen in the morning. For now, he simply wished to watch the lanterns float through the sky in peace.
As for why it took place every year… he didn’t know. He knew he couldn’t ask Mother, he knew better than that. Mother would be made aware of him staying up each year to watch these foolish lights in the sky, and would scold him for this habit, and maybe even monitor him until he fell asleep…
The boy, despite his young age, was knowledgeable on many cultural traditions throughout Twisted Wonderland: from humans, to fae, to merfolk, to beastfolk, to the Great Seven… he thoroughly memorised many of their special holidays and the importance of them, so long as it was written in the books in a language which he could understand. Yet he never read anything regarding lights being lifted into the sky.
Maybe, once he was older and had more free-will with what he could study, then he would have the freedom to research these lights on his own accord.
But, for now, at the youthful age of nine… the young boy was content with watching this special view at midnight. It felt as though all his worries and thoughts floated away, alongside all the lights freely floating in the dark sky.
He could let his thoughts and imagination run wild. Imagining those lanterns up close and in his hands. Wondering what it was like, watching the lights up close and glow.
Wondering when he would be able to free himself from his mother’s controlling studies.
Wondering when his life would truly begin.
His gaze remained fixated on the lights from afar, watching as each one of them joined with the stars. He could watch the lights in the air as much as he wanted to.
Mother had yet to catch her child in the act of breaking her rule, after all.
It was mid-afternoon. The second-last period before weekend classes were done for the day. These classes were optional work days: Riddle always took the opportunity to join them. He was used to ruthlessly working on papers and books since his childhood, and it was a hard habit to break free from. Riddle didn’t consider it as a bad thing, though—he saw it as an opportunity to focus and grow, and further improve his work.
The only sounds in the room were pencils against paper, and a particularly large cat purring from the professor’s table. Riddle found Professor Trein’s classroom to be the easiest to focus inside: it was similar to the library, filled with students focused on themselves and their studies. Riddle’s pen worked swiftly against his own piece of paper, organising his work while his gaze occasionally turned towards the open textbook beside him. The project was to research the background and results of a cultural event from any race: a tradition, a war, and so on. Riddle just wanted to get this done as soon as possible so he could focus on his work from other classes.
Then he heard the familiar voice of an older man call out his name. Promptly, Riddle got up from his seat and walked to the teacher’s desk.
“Riddle,” Professor Trein started.
“Yes? What is it, Professor?” Riddle asked with a tilt of his head.
“I’m aware that you’re already most likely set on a history event for this research paper, correct?”
The redhead nodded. “Of course. I’ve already made an outline of the project.”
The housewarden followed up by handing a paper to the professor. The paper was a rough draft about a war regarding humans, written and organised neatly. Riddle always thought a rough draft of a research paper was better rather than starting a project without little to no plan: a draft helped clarify and organise one’s thoughts, it gave the person a clearer idea of what to write about, and Riddle always seemed to work much better with a plan rather than making it up as he went along. He always tried to encourage a certain duo of first years in his dormitory to do the same, but they never seemed to listen quite well…
Professor Trein handed the paper back with a pensive expression. Riddle’s eyebrows raised in confusion as he spoke, “Hm? What is it?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful how you’re always able to come up with a written draft so quickly,” Trein’s voice held a clear tone of hesitation and underlying worry. “Though… I have something in particular I wish to ask of you.”
“Ah…? Something to ask of me?”
The older man nodded. “Indeed. I pulled you aside so I could ask you to research something… different.”
“Different?” Riddle didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”
“I’ve noticed something about your research papers regarding history. You always seem to focus these projects on humans, in particular. You always seem so thoroughly knowledgeable and interested in your species, which is lovely, but…”
He paused in thought before finishing, “I want to push your limits further. You are a very promising student, Riddle. I know you are aware of that. And for you to continue growing, I’d like to push you away from your comfort zone. I’d like for you to research something besides humans, and I’d like for you to go ahead and learn about a foreign, cultural event on your own. Personal research.”
Riddle didn’t know what to think. It didn’t occur to him that his classmates were already leaving the room.
“The project is due at the end of the month,” the professor continued. “I trust you’ll figure something out.”
The redhead stared back at the paper draft in his hands, the paper now serving little to no purpose any longer. His mind was blank. He… had to think of another cultural event. Something outside of anything he was comfortable and knowledgeable about. He had to personally learn about something utterly and entirely foreign to him… how in Wonderland was he supposed to do that?
Trein handed him a pre-written note. “Give this to your next teacher. My doors are always open after class if you have any questions. I believe in you.”
Riddle took the paper slip from the middle-aged man’s hands—knowing it was a late slip. The bell rang promptly. Riddle was quick to give a brief, “thank you,” to the wiser man before walking off.
In the hallway, Riddle was walking slowly, already inevitably late for his next class. He was in deep thought, replaying Trein’s words in his head over and over again.
Professor Trein wanted him to step away from his comfort zone and learn about a cultural event of another race. Personally.
Riddle didn’t even know how to start.
He understood his professor’s intent to push him far and beyond his comfort zone—a project like this was guaranteed to improve many skills which Riddle would need in the near future. Riddle liked to think of himself as a good problem-solver…
…yet he couldn’t even begin to think of a solution for a problem like this.
Later that afternoon, when classes were finished, Riddle’s legs found their way to the library.
Riddle’s nose was buried deep in a pile of books. There were many books which he had rented, piled up on the library table by his side: describing ancient tales of merfolk, to fae types, to the many variations of beastfolk. He rented out every single book he could find for the evening, trying to find the perfect thing to research.
On any other day, the rational part of his brain would pick the event which contained the most information. And from the many sociology books he had gone through, he found many books which described many cultural events with large and thorough explanations. Yet, for some reason, his mind wasn’t clicking with any of the events. He was taking a longer time to try and find the perfect event to research, rather than taking the time to actually be researching.
In other words, he was wasting his time.
But Riddle had already gone through eleven other books. Riddle figured it wouldn’t hurt to go through the final book on the bottom of the pile—a book related to beastfolk culture, and the many traditions which were special for them.
As Riddle’s eyes skimmed through the pages, one illustration in particular caught his attention.
In the background was depicted a night sky, and the glowing blur of yellow lights up in the air.
It looked… familiar, in an odd way.
He was alone in the library for the past two hours. He heard students come along and pass by while he looked thoroughly through each page of every book, trying to gather up some sort of plan for this project. But the moment he found this paper, he stared at it.
He stared and stared. He couldn’t draw his eyes away.
Why did the sight seem so familiar? He knew Mother had never taken him anywhere special during evenings, much less to see such beautiful lights in the air just like the ones drawn in the book. He couldn’t move his hands or fingers to flip the page, nor could he tear his gaze away from the illustration. It was like the page was pulling him in further, and Riddle couldn’t deny it…
Something in his mind just seemed to click.
Whatever this tradition was… he wanted to research it. He forced his eyes away from the drawing to the words on the page, hoping to find some kind of information related to the tradition.
His eyes were met with a foreign language.
Riddle’s eyes squinted, the euphoria which suddenly grew in his chest vanishing just as quickly. He couldn’t understand any of the words written down on the paper. That was inevitable—each creature had their own unique way of writing, and Riddle would consider it interesting on any other day. But right now, Riddle just felt lost.
He had no way to learn anything about this tradition. He could try to contact Che’nya, of course, but trying to find him through Royal Sword Academy would be a hassle. Riddle could perhaps try asking one of his dorm members who were beastfolk to read the words to him, or explain the tradition… but Riddle hesitated. What if this was some sort of ancient tradition for beastfolk, celebrated only decades or centuries before?
Riddle looked down at the book once again. With each person he saw passing by, looking confusedly at the large number of books piled up on Riddle’s table before walking off, or the sound of people talking in another table afar… it kept bringing his focus away.
Huffing, Riddle took a deep breath and tried to focus once again, picking the book up with his hands as he stared at the page. Think, think… how would he try to figure out what this cultural event was all about…?
“That clearly isn’t the book, you fucking moron!”
Riddle nearly dropped the book at once. That was, without a doubt, Ace. Ace Trappola. The most troublesome freshmen Riddle has ever had the pleasure of dealing with.
And that was Ace Trappola yelling in the library.
Riddle wasn't about to have his own student disobeying the library’s common rules and cause a disruption like this.
Riddle was quick to look up and scan the library. His eyes scanned the area briefly before finding a particular pair of boys he was far too familiar with. One with cherry blond hair, the other with dark navy blue. Right across from the table Riddle was sitting at, books and papers scattered around neatly all over the place.
It only took a clear of his throat to silence the boys’ bickering.
“H-Housewarden!!” They both exclaimed in unison, stuttering in the exact same manner. Idiotic, this pair was.
“Just what do you two think you’re doing, yelling in a library of all places, hm?” Riddle raised an eyebrow at them. “You should both know it’s common courtesy to behave and be quiet in the library, no?”
“W-We do! I promise,” Deuce was quick to stammer out in reply, hands moving wildly to try and explain. “It’s… um…”
“Oh, you know what?” Ace was quick to interrupt the other boy with a swift wave of his hand, approaching closer towards Riddle’s table. “We could use your help with finding a book, Riddle! Since you’re always so busy studyin’ in here and whatever.”
Riddle decided to ignore the subtle insult Ace sprinkled in there. He’d have his head for that later. “Hm, I suppose I can help. What is it that you’re looking for?”
“A book.”
“...That’s it?”
Ace quickly slapped the slightly-taller boy, making the latter sputter. “Don’t listen to him, Riddle! He’s just a little lost, that’s all.”
“Don’t start slapping me!” The other boy retorted, though quickly backing down into a respectful tone upon noticing the housewarden’s glare. “Oh— uh… we’re looking for a book about the annual Lantern Rise.”
“...”
Riddle never heard about that tradition in his entire life. Surely they were making a tradition up? With the endless amount of books Riddle read, related to all sorts of events and traditions within Wonderland, none of them ever mentioned something remotely close to a Lantern Rise. Riddle’s face squinted in confusion as he thought deeply, desperately trying to tell whether or not the words rang a bell…
Least to say, the confusion in his expression was evident. Evident enough to startle the two card soldiers.
“H-Housewarden?!”
“What… what in Wonderland are you speaking about?” Riddle frowned at the two in an accusatory manner, crossing his arms. “You two should know that I’m busy this noon hour studying, do you not? I don’t have time for these foolish games or—”
“You don’t know?!”
Their sudden yell sounded genuine. Immediately, Riddle felt like a fool. Was this Lantern Rise a real thing? And if so, how come Riddle had never heard of it before?!
“I thought you were super smart!” Deuce spluttered out. “I-I mean, I don’t want to sound mean, but you study all the time, don’t you?”
“And Lantern Rise is somethin’ that happens each year! Surely you’ve heard somethin’ about it, yeah?” Ace spoke soon after, tilting his head at the housewarden.
“...” Riddle’s silence spoke loud enough.
“C’mon, you can see the ceremony each year! You can see it anywhere in the world, y’know? On the twenty-fourth? Your birthday? Right at midnight? Riiiight? Seriously, your childhood can’t be that messed up…”
“Ace! Damn it, don’t phrase it like that, you idiot—!”
Riddle looked back at the book. He was about to hush the two and brush away the topic before Ace gasped loudly, Deuce following behind him.
Riddle sighed, glaring back at the duo. “What?”
“Wait,” Ace said with a suddenly-serious tone, approaching his book. Deuce followed behind shortly after, looking at the page.
The moment they both saw the background illustration, they gasped. Again.
“What?!” Riddle couldn’t even attempt to hide the exasperation in his voice. “I don’t have time for your tomfoolery today—!”
“You— you’re looking at the Lantern Rise! Right there!” Deuce explained, making an effort to tap against the page with his finger numerous times.
“…That’s the Lantern Rise?”
“Yeah!”
Riddle stared back at the photo again. Something in his mind finally seemed to click.
The midnight of his birthday, kneeling right beside his window in the dead of night, watching as the dark sky got lit up by the amount of beautiful lanterns from afar…
"So that’s what it’s called,” Riddle muttered, more to himself than to the freshmen. “Lantern Rise…”
“Duuuh. What did you think it was called?”
“Shut up, Ace!”
“You should shut up!”
“No, you—”
“Enough with your bickering!” Riddle was quick to interrupt before clearing his throat again. Upon noticing their silence, Riddle continued, “I’m afraid I haven’t yet rented a book in the library which touches upon the Lantern Rise. Besides this one—but I’m currently using it. I apologise. Though, I am curious. What did you two need the book for?”
“So… y’know how the Ramshackle Prefect does the school’s blog and bulletin board for Headmage Crowley, yeah?” Riddle nodded, gesturing for Ace to continue. “Well, the school’s apparently doin’ some special ceremony to help out some of the beastfolk who participate in the Lantern Rise. We were gonna help the Prefect out and read some more stuff about it to teach ‘em about the tradition.”
“Plus,” Deuce added on, “there’s also gonna be an assembly tomorrow about it, or something.”
Why wasn’t Riddle informed of this sooner?! And…
“Errr… pardon me, but why would we be helping beastfolk in particular…?”
The pair of freshmen had their jaws wide open. They were so synchronised, Riddle almost felt threatened by the pair. They really did share the same brain, didn’t they?
“...Yeah, y’know what,” Deuce shrugged in defeat. “We’ll look for a book about it to give to you, actually.”
Riddle frowned. “Is it really that big of a tradition…?”
”Yes,” both boys said at once.
Ah. Now Riddle felt like a fool.
Ace was quick to shrug, putting a hand on his hip. “It’d be no biggie, really. We’ll probably be able to find some book that you can read later. That way, you aren’t interruptin’ any of your precious study time, yeah?”
Riddle was quick to glare at Ace upon noticing the cocky, teasing glint in his smirk.
Deuce spoke soon after, “Yeah! We’ll see if we can find anything to give you back at the dorm,” the boy nudged at Ace’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”
And as fast as the boys seemed to enter the library, they left. Riddle felt the inside of his head burning, watching as Deuce dragged Ace’s arm to leave the room.
What were they even thinking, leaving the library while saying they’d try to find a book? The library was the main place to find and rent out books!
Riddle firmly rubbed his temples and sighed. That was simply the duo, of course. Obviously brainless and lacking common sense.
Now he was going to struggle focusing again, thanks to the duo and this new information of a tradition he has never heard of before in textbooks…
Riddle grumbled, quickly grabbing a blank paper and messily writing whatever thoughts were bugging him. All about this Lantern Rise he’s suddenly heard of. Why has he never heard of it before? He felt like a moron. It felt like the duo of card soldiers just seemed to have fun humiliating him for his lack of awareness…
Riddle took a deep breath soon after. It was fine. The card soldiers would surely find something for Riddle to quickly research upon. Perhaps that’s how Riddle could get this research paper done quicker.
A few minutes passed. Gradually, Riddle found himself focused again, thinking deeply about this new information of the ceremony.
The Lantern Rise.
He had questions, of course—that was inevitable. He began to write them down.
- What is the Lantern Rise?
- What is the history behind the ceremony?
- Why is it so popular with other creatures? (Excluding beastfolk.)
- Why is it primarily a beastfolk tradition?
- What are the lanterns made of?
- Why does it happen every midnight on August 24th?
He heard the library door slam open and shut in a hurry. Though it startled him, Riddle managed to keep up his focus, his hand continuing to sway away in cursive.
- When did this tradition begin?
- Who started this tradition?
- What are some different perspectives on the tradition?
Riddle’s pen stilled for a moment, trying to think of another topic to potentially add. Professor Trein made this project incredibly open, with no set rules explaining what to discuss besides history as a whole, which Riddle couldn’t help but scowl at. Open projects like this always caught him off-guard…
Riddle tried to focus, and was successful in tuning out the world around him.
All until he heard the sudden sound of feet sprinting.
Which, of course, caught his attention. Running was prohibited in the library. This person had a strong head, attempting to break the concentrated silence of Riddle Rosehearts.
He lifted his head upwards to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and suddenly—
A figure had suddenly jumped off the railing from the second level of the library before shuffling beneath the table Riddle was studying at.
Which, of course, startled the life out of Riddle.
Riddle was about to raise his voice and demand for the person to show themselves from beneath the table this instant, before he suddenly got interrupted. A finger was put to his lips in a casual, playful manner. Then followed a voice he was familiar enough with, albeit a bit muffled and softened.
“Shhh… shishishi!”