From that silent place fear flows in unseen waves, like white fog. The shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. Through it's frowning walls and dark window openings there's a lantern of the spirit which none see by but those who bear it.
One day a year is the Day of Turning where those on the bottom of the heap for the rest of the year get to live like Kings. Privates question Generals, the people get a say in running things and there is great merriment and gift giving.