A full, harvest moon shone down upon Ashenstar Castle, making it look like a horrid thing right out of a nightmare. Because Theon was born an Ashenstar and technically not disinherited himself he was allowed entry by the wards. He still shivered as he walked inside of the grounds, eyes roaming all over the walls and ceilings of the castle now coated in a growing, red light. The place felt like a thing right out of a gothic novel his sister loved to read. He still had a few saved at home, save from his father’s rampage and absentmindedly noted to share those with Roule.

Most of his friends and townsfolk hid from the blood-red beams, unwilling to be mistaken for a lost soul and reaped by the Harvester. Having met the being, Theon did not fear him as much anymore. His fear had turned more into respect than anything else. But it worried him that Roule would try to do the same. That was not the only disturbing thing in the letter Leapold, their butler, sent him. Roule seemed to be spiralling back into his seasonal depression again- but this time his sisters would not be able to drag him out. So it was up to Theon to remind his cousin of this on one of the creepiest nights of the year.

“Either I spend it with Roule, or father, who’s wasted and in a mood.” He had said to Leopold when the butler protested. “I’ll pick Roule every single time. For both our sakes- and continued health.”

Theon reached the door. He pushed it open with a huff, his scythe clanking as he pushed it open. Ashenstar castle was silent as he entered. Not in a good way either or at all, but in a way that felt and seemed far too empty. Like the dungeon’s Earthen Furnace it felt like each of his steps clanged on the walls. Without his and Roule’s kin around and the servants all locked up in their own quarters or at home, the castle felt just like the dungeon did. For Theon that was worrying. There should be servants walking all over the place, his mind said. This night there were only three, and they had gone home before it was dark.

“Ser Theon!” A voice called. Theon spun around to watch Leopold wander toward him. The old, grey Puck smiled at him. Even after his father being disowned he was still calling Theon ser. A part of him could understand the habit, but it felt complicated. “Be careful, we have lit candles but the moon tends to throw them off.”

“Same thing as always, then.” Theon laughed. “How’s Roule?” And now Theon was there to see Leopold wilt. “He should be in the foyer, or the fireplace room? Do you remember where it is?” He asked, and Theon nodded. “I do, I’ll go talk to him. You take care of the last preparations, and please be careful yourself.”

The two parted ways- after a hug. Then Theon began his trek towards the foyer. He entered it to find it appearing empty. “Roule?” He called, his own voice ringing off the bare walls. Stood in the main hall he instinctively looked over at the fireplace. The spot above it was empty. The portraits of his cousins and distant family, Roule’s sisters and parents, were gone. “It’s not that late in winter yet. This month’s rough on anyone and you shouldn’t spend it all on your own.”

“I’m fine.” Roule’s voice snapped. He had changed. A strange sort of change that nevertheless made sense if you knew the loss that he carried. Loss could do that to a Courser, just as Theon understood and realised what had happened. His sister was gone too and most days he still woke up expecting her to be walking around the house, going to work at the factory or somewhere else that was not filled with memories, good or bad. Ashernstar Castle, to Theon, was filled with those memories. Day in and out it would roam all over this place, worrying everyone as they reared up. 

So was Roule apparently. Near the window he stood, staring at the moon. He found the Courser he was looking for, that Leopold was worried about. Theon frowned as he looked at his cousin. He was wearing a thick cloak and eyes downcast to the ground. “I’m alright. Theon.”

“No. You’re not, and that’s alright.” He said, leaning against his cousin. He felt cold despite the thick cloak. After a moment he felt it push against him. He blinks tears from his eyes with grit teeth and effort. His breath comes out shaky. “Fuck, this day’s rough.”

“I keep hoping we can see them today.” Roule confessed and Theon knew they were going to talk about it right now. “I keep hoping their spirits can be found, or called back or something but they’re gone. I know they’re at peace but I want them here.” He breathed in. “I want to yell at dad, scold mom and make jokes with Liz. I want to gossip with May and play with Daisy again. I want them back, I want Rose back.”

“Me too.” Theon said, feeling his body shiver at his sister’s name, looking back at Roule. “I want all of them back- fuck, Roule. We were with so many and now we’re all alone. I want to yell at dad for drawing his sorrows in booze instead of getting up and doing something like we’re trying to do.”

“I want them back.” Roule cried, tears running down his face. He leaned against Theon, a worried frown on his face. “We’re not doing well, are we?”

“No. But we will, in time. We will, because that’s what they deserve from us. We can’t let our house die out with us- can’t let those murderers get away with it. We can do this, and we will. But tonight we will watch that Harvest Moon so we can grieve.”

“No summoning spirits, then?” Roule joked. He laughed as Theon poked him with a hoof. “Alright, be careful with that, you’re sharp.”