Naomi left her sculpture and made her way towards the compound.
Snow was gently falling (her handiwork), blanketing the sand and several small structures, but the night air remained relatively warm.
A large pavilion had been erected on the beach, and it was lit by thousands of twinkling white lights. Inside were all the trappings and treasures of the season. A Yule log burned merrily in the fireplace, flanked by a massive Christmas tree. The tree was decorated with living butterflies and small glowing spheres reminiscent of the souls released after the Drone Defeat. Holiday carols played from an old-fashioned radio. Popcorn and berry garland hung from the rafters, as wells as the occasional sprig of mistletoe.
There was a light meal on the table (the Monfrox feast would happen tomorrow), simple and savory foods, plus good wine and other drink.
Outside, multicolored Christmas lights illuminated a path that forked into two directions. One led to a large fire pit set up for roasting marshmallows and other things on sticks, and had Monfrox instruments nearby (they planned to entertain on Christmas Day).
The other path led to a small, candlelit grotto had been set aside for Thriller, Lucius and those who identified with their faith. A
nativity scenehad been painstakingly sculpted from sand by Naomi, and the air carried the exotic scent of frankincense. It was a quiet area perfectly suited for meditation and prayer, where outside noise wouldn’t penetrate.
Naomi turned to the four tech priests who had helped construct everything. “Thank you,” she said, kissing each in turn on the cheek.