Darkness Meets Light

     A sharp, sweet smell surrounded me as I made my way through rows of perfectly spaced fir trees. There was a recent snowfall and in the early light, the trees glittered like crystalline ornaments. It was bright, almost glaringly so, but I did not mind it. This was, after all, my first time shopping for a Christmas tree with Lisha and her friend, Kayla. Only a month ago, the two ladies had scrounged up enough money to have a place of their own. This tree would be their first decoration, a celebration of their new home.

     Lisha scurried ahead, her little Aisha legs taking twice the strides to move anywhere I did, and inspected each tree as if deciding which book to add to her collection. She turned over branches, plucking individual needles and rolling them around between her gloved fingers. Kayla, on the other hand, was prancing like a Raindorf in the snow, dashing among the lanes of trees as if wandering around some mystical forest. It was charming, watching the two of them together. Polar opposites, yet best friends all the same.

     “Hey, Serian,” Lisha said, as my Eyrie ears twitched up at the sound of my name, “what do you think of this one?”

     I found it funny that she kept asking me for advice. In the Citadel, the idea of a decorated fir tree was new to us. Some families found the idea to be exciting and imported the tree from Meridell, but the vast majority of us still kept to our own traditions.

     “It’s… nice?” I gave a noncommittal shrug. She hummed in reply before going on to the next one in the line.

     “What about this one?” called Kayla from almost a half-mile up the hill.

     “Coming!” she replied.

     Despite her heavy layers, the red Zafara never slowed down for a second. And that’s saying something—she was the most dressed of the three of us, and Lisha already looked like an overstuffed marrow in her two winter coats. I, on the other hand, only needed a light jacket. Being a Darigan Eyrie had its perks—sometimes, anyway.

     It took a while for Lisha to make it there (and I slowed down to make sure she wouldn’t be left behind) but when we did… she gasped.

     “Wow,” and as Lisha said this, a fleeting misty cloud came from her mouth, “this is a blue spruce. It’s… beautiful.” Again, she turned towards me. “Don’t you think so, bro?”

     “Uhh…” I dug my hand into my pockets and tried to smile. “Looks like this is the one, right?”

     She brushed her hand on the coarse bristles and shook the branch as if greeting it with a firm handshake. “This is the one.”

     Kayla let out a whoop while I removed the pick axe that the farmer lent us from the holster on my waist. When she saw me there amongst the group, her brows rose with interest, but she waved us in without a second thought. Darigan money is still money, after all.

     It took a few good swings, but the tree fell into the soft powder with little more than a thud. I hoisted it onto my shoulders while the two happily chatted about the kinds of decorations they would hang from its branches.

     Before we reached the checkout counter, Lisha asked, “what do you want to add to the tree?”

     I pondered that question for a minute, never really giving it any thought before this. This outing was more an excuse to do something nice with them than anything else (and I figured they needed my strength to carry the tree onto the sleigh and pull it back into Meridell).

     “I’ll think of something.”

     ~x~

     Growing up in the “Children of Kass” orphanage, we did not have much. We grew our own food and washed our allotted outfits until they were little more than rags around our bodies. Even so, like all Darigan citizens, we celebrated the “Darkest Day.” It remains one of the most important holidays of the year, a time of being thankful, of joining with family and friends to welcome back the light. For after this day, the sun rose earlier, days grew longer. Life could begin anew.

     Every December 21st, the streets would be lined with merchants selling lighting artifacts, magical motes or lanterns. Each house would place a candle on the windowsill. Others would hang little silver trinkets of stars or the moon in its various phases above their door. Some wealthier families would string magical light down the spiked vines that guarded their gentleman’s garden from the grubby hands of Citadel urchins. A few, like the Von Norwegens, held lavish parties that I only dreamed of until my appointment in Kass’ army. Far as I understand it, it was Kass who insisted that I, a General, be invited. But seeing those tables filled with endless dishes, or diamonds and pearls covering their regalia, it did not fill me with thankfulness at all. What the children I grew up with would do for a fraction of what was on a single long table. But before my eyes gave me away, I found a convenient excuse to leave early each time, sighting something to do with military duties. It wasn’t as if I belonged with the upper crust. They knew it just as well as I did. No one seemed sorry to see me go. In fact, I’m sure they let out a collective sigh of relief that Kass’ little pet had left their sights.

     I let out of a gruff exhale before knocking on the door. A little balsam wreath had been added since yesterday with a red bow draping across the bottom and a sign that read “welcome to our home!” in the centre. It looked like Kayla added a happy face next to the exclamation point—I couldn’t help but smile seeing it.

     The door swung open as Kayla, now in a bedazzled red dress with a black sash around her waist, beckoned me inside. Lisha wore something a little less over-the-top, a white blouse and green skirt with gold filigree that matched her yellow fur. I, on the other hand, wore what I usually would, a white tunic with thermals for the cold. A fire that glowed in a rainbow of colours was purring in the hearth. I had a sneaking suspicion that Kayla had something to do with that. Thank the Citadel nothing exploded.

     The tree sat in the corner of the room, still bare, but surrounded by a host of colourful ornaments. On a tray next to it was a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies.

     “Go ahead and grab some,” started Lisha, “they’re—”

     Another knock came at the door.

     “—Oh, I bet that’s Jeran.”

     Her older brother, Jeran, maintained his formal knightly appearance, but put a sprig of holly in behind his blue, lupine ears. Behind him were a host of other familiar faces: archer Danner the blue Wocky and knights Rohane the white Blumaroo, Boris the blue Blumaroo and Moris the green Quiggle. While Danner wore a red suit, the latter three wore had on more comfortable, festive clothing. Boris wore a hand-knit sweater that was a gift from his boyfriend. It had a Whinny design that looked like my own Petpet, Truce. And all of them carried little wrapped boxes and cloth bags filled with food and drink.

     I’ve known these Meridellians for years now, could even call some of them family, but I still felt… out of place at this celebration. Jeran hung the tinsel garland around the tree while Boris and Morris sang “Rudy the Scarlet Raindorf” and Danner drank his third cup of spiced punch. I found a seat in the corner and watched.

     “Did you get a plate of food yet?”

     “Eh?” I blinked a few times, realizing that I had zoned out. Rohane leaned against the wall and took slow sips of his drink. He never seemed like the kind of Neopian who enjoyed a rowdy social gathering, even amongst friends. “Um, yes.”

     I hadn’t, which surely Rohane knew, but he wanted to check anyway. He really is a good rival.

     “I’m glad.” Rohane lowered his drink. “Always plenty for seconds.”

     “Thanks.”

     A few seconds passed where neither of us knew what to say. But the Blumaroo did not stop trying. “Is this your first Festival of Light?”

     I nodded.

     “You celebrate the ‘Darkest Day,’ if I remember right.”

     It always struck me as funny how much this knight from a middle-of-nowhere small town knew more than the so-called dignitaries who attended our Tri-national Council meetings. But then again, Lieutenant Deborah is good family friends with their mother…

     “That’s right. We’d be celebrating it tomorrow since it’s the solstice.”

     “Auntie Deborah has told me some, but I’d be interested in—”

     “Alright, everyone, gather ‘round!”

     “—learning more sometime,” Rohane finished with a sigh, knowing that there was no stopping Kayla when she was at her most enthusiastic.

     The lot of us met in a semi-circle as Lisha removed a few trinkets from behind the tree. They were made of glued-together seed pods, I realized, in the shape of a star. Red winterberries spun around the centre. Lisha held one of them out towards me.

     “Oh, I couldn’t—”

     “Part of the Light Festival is sharing your inner light with those around you.”

      “But…” I hesitated. “Wouldn’t it be better if someone from Meridell—”

     “I was hoping you could place the first ornament on the tree.” She had a beaming smile that brightened the room. “ I… made it just for you, big bro.”

     Curse my weakness for that smile. I gently took the seed star from her hand and wrapped the metal hook supporting it around the longest branch. It looked lonely up there surrounded by nothing but blue spines and gold garland.

     “Can I… add another?” I asked, looking at the pile below.

     “We all chip in to help!” chirped Morris, who had scooped up a pile of his own handmade decorations.

     “Together!” finished Boris. “That’s part of the tradition!”

     Jeran patted my shoulder. “We’d appreciate the help, Serian, if you want to.”

     The one I had chosen next was a star made of straw. It reminded me of the kinds of celestial bodies that I made with the orphanage children. Silver was… too precious for a place such as ours, so we found creative means to bring light to our dark situation. Wordlessly, I placed it next to the first one so that it would no longer be alone. Meanwhile, the others began to cover the tree full of little toys, miniature baskets, tiny glass vials filled with Darigan knows what, dried fruits and nuts, and sparkle-filled snowflakes that caught the firelight. Within minutes it was transformed from a plain tree to a work of art. It suddenly made sense why some Darigan families were adopting the custom (although, from what I saw, ours were filled with lighted candles, moons, and stars, and none of them were brightly coloured. More muted was appropriate for what could be interpreted as a solemn time, especially to those looking from the outside in).

     Now that the tree had it décor, I opened my own bag. It was filled with a grey and black papercraft, a garland of rings.

     “What’s that for?” asked Lisha.

     I removed the last of the line from the bag. “You’ll see.”

     Kayla made a little gasp. “Oh! Is it a crown?”

     “Something for the windowsill?”

     “Or above the mantle?”

     “Or—”

     “How about we let Serian explain it to us?” Rohane had a wry smirk, especially when he cut off the Captain of the Order, Jeran, from his postulations.

     Jeran crossed his arms and huffed. “I—fine.”

     I stifled a laugh. “It… well, here. Gather in a circle.” They did. Meanwhile, I unspooled the chain. “Hold on and make sure not to let go.” Each of them received a portion until the entire length was divided amongst them. Feeling a bit bashful, I held out my hand to Lisha, the first one to receive her links. “Take hold of my hand and… repeat after me.”

     Danner tilted his head. “At the same time, or…?”

     “All together.” I took a deep breath. “Okay. Ready?”

      “And this isn’t some sort of spell, right?”

     I let out a grunt. “No. Now, repeat after me. ‘Together, we build this chain.’”

     “Together we build this chain.”

     “Our bond will bring us through the darkest days…”

     “Our bond will bring us through the darkest days…”

     “And into the light.”

     “And into the light.”

     From my tunic pocket, I removed a single silver link. With a satisfying snap, the ring was completed.

     It was the first time I had done this in over a decade. My mind flashed back to the children who made sure I had enough paper to make crafts. To Eddie, the mischievous scamp, who encouraged me to rebel, not that I listened to him once Kass had me in his clutches, but…

     “… at now?”

     “Huh?” I snapped out of my own head.

     “What now, Serian?” asked Jeran. “Does it… go somewhere?”

     Back at the orphanage, we wrapped it around Lord Kass’ portrait painting, the one he hung in each of the places that he “sponsored.” It was explained to us as a kind gesture, but looking back, it showed us from an early age that he was always watching, monitoring our every move.

     Instead of that, I said, “I was thinking… it might look nice around the tree, maybe turning the opposite way of the garland.”

     “Is that the tradition?” Lisha seemed genuinely curious. Maybe one day I’ll tell her the truth.

     “I thought we’d make a new tradition from an old one, one that… we make together?” At the bottom of the bag were a few silver ornaments that I bought from Citadel artisans. I held up a waxing gibbous moon, “and these could hang over the door, if you’d like.”

     Kayla’s eyes sparkled even brighter than her dazzling outfit. “I’d love that a lot.”

     Each silver piece reflected light from the fire, creating little rainbow beams that filled the room with life. We each set a candle in the windowsills, one red and one silver.

     Finally at ease, I took a big plateful of food and had a hearty meal. Even long after the sun went down, there was brightness and laughter all around. It… would take some getting used to, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, either.

     Perhaps in these times of change, we can find darkness out of light.

     The End.