What to do When You Come Across the Midnight Parade
Stay away from the docks, for that is where it comes. It appears first within the light of the waning sun, mile long processions oozing out from the shadows, drums and horns blaring magnificently, announcing the arrival of the Midnight Parade.
Masks are worn by all, each more monstrous and uncanny than the last. You think for a moment, that they are made from material; stone or wood, some even gold, but then they move, lips curling into grim and exaggerated smiles, teeth long and dripping. You wonder, then, if they are masks at all. That is, until a Pierrot lifts its porcelain face. You cannot even find it in you to scream at the sight but find yourself relieved when it lowers the mask once again with a wink.
There are boats that follow it, though none in the shapes that you are familiar with. They bulge and shift, elegant drapery hung along the sides. Many come to watch the parade, travelling through the Known and Unknown, Monarchs and Gods, Magi, Oracles, and Monsters alike. They wave from their boats, strange and uncanny faces peering bashfully from behind curtains. One sees you and beckons you towards them. Will you pass through the parade and join them? No doubt you could see it all much better from aboard their boat.
Do not approach the Grand Marshals. They lead the procession in all its manic and terrible glory and have been doing so for millenia. They are weary and will offer you their banners to hold. Do not accept them, do not even touch them lest you wish to take their place, guiding the endless parade, the banner of a god that is not yours held tightly, fiercely in your hands.
It was the singing that lead you, wasn’t it? The strange howling and whooping that filled the air nearby where you walked. Do not let your mind linger too long on the heavy rhythm of the drums nor the crooning of the songstresses. Their song is meant to entrance and soon you will find yourself amidst them, another voice singing in joyful harmony as the procession moves on with you at its center.
If you see it disappear, though very few have, I would advise against following it. The parade comes and goes with the sun and should you choose to foolishly chase after it, driven no doubt by your seemingly insatiable curiosity, you will find yourself someplace Beyond, where the colours burn your eyes and sound has become only laughter. Catch up with the parade, follow it and perhaps you will return to your own world, though the time between sunrise and sunset can be very long indeed and the parade makes many stops.
Do not let yourself become addicted to the Parade. Do not wait night after night for it to arrive or its performers may take notice of you. It is dionysian in its mania, much like the feasts of the fae and its multitude of grinning clowns and frenzied dancers will not hesitate to drag you bodily into the horrendous depths of the procession until you are lost in the deep beat of the drums and the twisting arms of the tumblers.
If you do become lost to the Midnight Parade and follow them as the night shifts into morning, do not try to leave. You are the part of the caravan, you have been given your mask. You feel it as your eyes shudder and your lips curve up into a grin. You do not know for what you march or for who you promenade but your blood has turned to delight and you cannot turn it back. Even if you could, why would you want to?
