For Ghosts who celebrate the many traditions of the Dawning.
Some give gifts and light candles. Some write fortunes and release paper lanterns etched with snowflakes and stars. Some sing songs and say prayers and tell stories passed down from the refugee roads. Tables bend under the weight of every kind of food and drink imaginable.
The rich tapestry of Dawning festival traditions found in the Last City has only one common thread, but it is the brightest thread of all: we are Humankind. Of those born in the cradle called Earth, we are the last. The nights are long, but we will survive them together. We must not let our light go out.