Glacier KerubiThe Snow Fairy
One begins, and it lasts a while, a term that begins and ends before many seem to expect it. Sometimes it helps beings to be born, life to grow or to thrive. Other times it causes plants to dry out, to whittle and fade until they die, while select creatures go into a deep sleep until it all ends. They, the seasons themselves, change everything. But, whatever they do, they always come to an end, so that another period can begin immediately following.
This is common knowledge, at least as far as I understand. For centuries weather and scenery has been altered, catering to whatever season that happened to reign at the time. One passes and another starts in its absence, and time goes on.
What no one ever realizes, however, is that this doesn't just happen on its own – and that's where I come in.
“It's all yours, Bethani!” Octavia calls, her lips stretching into a calm smile as she gives me a wave. She was always as kind and welcoming as autumn itself, and it only made sense, considering she was the fairy responsible for ushering it in. Her wings – the colors of fall foliage, a shimmery mixture of reds and browns and golds, and with markings similar to the veins that ran through the leaves that had long ago fallen to the ground – keep her fluttering beside the Tree of Seasons.
Her wait is a long one. Perhaps it is because my body has always been so cold, nearly as icy as winds that blew over the Arctic landscape in one part of the world, or maybe it is something else entirely, but I make my way to her slowly.
Octavia is patient, however, and she gives me another smile as I finally approach her and the Tree. “Ready for the winter?” she asks.
I give her a nod, a small smile of my own. My icicle-like wings, the color and texture of ice, keep me levitating next to her, and I take a moment to respond to her question. “Yes,” I say. “Always ready.”
And that is the truth. I must wait for three other seasons to come and to pass before I can usher in my own, but I am always prepared to do so. A part of me is even anxious, ready for the air to go from crisp to freezing and the landscape to trade in its golds and bold reds for whites and blues.
Octavia gives me a nod of her own. She, too, understands my excitement – perhaps not about winter, but about autumn, her own season. Then she waves goodbye, and her wings take her away.
She leaves me there alone, and I glance up at the Tree of Seasons. It is magnificent. The trunk is giant, so thick I can't see around it, and it stretches high up into the sky. It has been there for decades, centuries, much longer, far longer than anyone I know can say.
I push my hand against the trunk, and I feel the rough bark against my palm. I focus, concentrating on the winter – on everything I love about it, on how ready I am for it. Then the change begins. The Tree begins to glimmer, to shine and glow. Soon snow begins to fall from the sky, delicate and slow, but I know that soon the land will be blanketed by it.
My job is done – for this year, at least. I take a seat atop a branch belonging to the Tree, so that I can watch the world change. It won't be too long before I do the same again. I will return each year, just as the fairies of spring, and summer, and autumn do, too, because seasons change, the way most things in this world must, and it is our duty to help them along...
Credits:
Charles-Story by User not found: heal
