Seasons greetings!
A seasonal short story, and some art to go with it :)
I should really write more short stories. It can be a lot of fun to complete an entire arc in just a few thousand words, and the feeling of having a finished story after only a day/a few days of work is amazing.
My amazing writer discord group hosted a December writing challenge, and we all tried to write a holiday-themed short story of only 2000 words. I decided on a cute little kinda-but-not-really-canon (?) story of my Somewhere down the Ley Line characters and how they celebrate the holidays, way up north in their magical abode.
This story is trigger-free (unless you are triggered by holiday celebrations, snowstorms or lanterns) and SFW. It may however cause sudden tooth rot, as well as tiny pink hearts to appear in the periphery of your vision for a few hours.
Without further ado - enjoy!
The Solstice Lantern
It was a cold, crisp winter morning when Mia barged unceremoniously into Isolde’s study, jolting her out of her reading.
“We’re decorating,” the bard declared. “For Solstice. I am fed up with all these cold grey walls everywhere. Get up, let’s go and see what we can find.”
Isolde closed her book in bemusement and joined without argument. She knew Solstice was approaching, but she’d half-expected it to pass them by quietly, here at the end of the world. They didn’t have much in the way of supplies, and in these cold months the steady trickle of travellers making their way to the Nexus all but dried up. It would start up again in spring, she was sure, but for now life was quiet, and there were less than a dozen people in residence at the magical temple complex that had somehow become her home.
“What do you plan on decorating with?” Isolde asked as they made their way down the hall. “I don’t think we came across any stars or garlands when we made our inventory of this place…”
Mia shrugged. “Whatever we can find. Surely in the old days the people who lived here celebrated? There’s that big store room we’ve barely looked at, with all the broken furniture. Let’s start there.”
The room in question was a dusty wonderland of ancient miscellany – crates stacked haphazardly, metal shelves sagging under their own weight, tables crumbling at the edges. The Nexus was fickle with its preservation; some rooms held items in perfect condition, while in others nothing had stood the test of time. Magic, Isolde suspected, was behind the difference.
“Right,” Mia said, rubbing her hands together with enthusiasm as she surveyed the room. “The treasure hunt begins.”
They rummaged through chests and cabinets, but the contents of each were more disappointing than the last. Entire shelves were full of nothing but dusty remnants. They found more stacks of plates and cups, which they set aside to take to the kitchen later, as well as a tattered piece of cloth that fell apart when they tried to unfold it.
Mia got lucky first. “Yes!” she exclaimed, hauling a glittering, tangled mess out of the crate she’d been going through. “Look at this! Stars!”
Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be several long lengths of ribbon threaded through countless little metal stars. The ribbon all but disintegrated at their touch, but the stars looked as shiny as if they’d been newly forged.
“These are perfect,” Isolde said happily. “I’m sure we have some twine or rope we can replace the ribbon with. Although it’s a shame,” she continued, trailing her hand across the ancient fabric, “I think this was a beautiful red velvet once. What else is in there?”
Mia was already elbow-deep in the crate once more, before triumphantly unearthing another object. “Is this a Solstice lantern, you think?”
Isolde reached out to brush away the dust, revealing delicate metal filigree cut into star shapes along the sides. “It is,” she said, nodding. “It must be. I can’t believe it!”
“Why not? Solstice lanterns are a staple, everyone has them.”
Isolde nodded excitedly. Every household in Azuill did have a Solstice lantern. On the eve of the Solstice, it was lit and placed at the highest window in the home, a beacon of hope and warmth, to mark the return of light as the seasons turned.
“That’s just it!” she said. “Now, in our time, everyone has them. But who knew the people who lived here at the Nexus, hundreds of years ago, already had those same customs? And… and I always thought Solstice lanterns were a Southern tradition, they aren’t as common in the High Holds, but if the ancient people of the Nexus used them then that means they were either brought here from the south… Or the tradition originated here! Oh, I need to check the library again! There was a book that mentioned calendar stones –”
“Isolde,” Mia said, laughing. “Take a breath.”
Isolde blinked, then took a big gulp of air and shook her head with a rueful smile. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
“Mhmm. Let’s see if there’s more.”
And indeed, the storage room offered more treasures. Three more Solstice lanterns, a bundle of tarnished metal bells, a set of mosaic tiles depicting stars, and, inexplicably, a box of blue-tinged candles that somehow hadn’t melted or cracked with age.
“Magic,” Isolde whispered in awe as she opened the box. “There’s magic in these.”
“Whatever it is, we’re taking them,” Mia said cheerfully.
Their arms full of discoveries, they bundled up in their cloaks and made their way to the common hall, laughing and chattering about the best places to put everything they found. Isolde felt light and cheerful, as if their discovery of ancient Solstice relics strengthened her connection to those who came before her, somehow.
As they approached the door, Felix rounded the corner, covered in snow and moving like he was being chased by demons.
“Felix,” Isolde said brightly, “look what we found!”
He looked up, startled, then relief broke across his face so quickly and completely it caught her breath. “There you are. I’ve been looking absolutely everywhere for you.”
Isolde gave a small, puzzled shake of her head. “Why?”
“There’s a snowstorm coming,” Felix said as he strode toward her and took the heavy box from her hands. “What’s all this?”
“Solstice decorations!” Isolde replied happily. “We even found Solstice lanterns! Can you believe that…”
Felix blinked at her, still breathing a little too fast. Mia let out a sigh that was half affectionate, half exasperated, shaking her head as Isolde launched into another eager tangent about winter festival traditions.
***
Late that night, after a simple but delicious Solstice meal in a hall lit by magical blue candles, music courtesy of Mia, the last wine bottle in their depleted pantry, and many warm Solstice wishes for all, Isolde crawled into bed.
But just as she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts wandered back to the Solstice lantern. Her eyes snapped open to look at it, sitting on the floor, dark and unassuming. They hadn’t put it in the window!
She bit her lip, trying to decide. It was warm and cosy under the piles of blankets, with Felix’s body heat at her back. Leaving their bed now would feel almost sacrilegious. And what window would she pick? How could she even determine the highest window of all the different buildings of the Nexus?
It was no use; her mind would never let her sleep now. What was a Solstice without silly traditions? Isolde crept out of bed as quietly as possible, hoping she wouldn’t wake Felix up. He’d rightfully tell her she was being mad. He’d tell her to come back to bed. He’d absolutely succeed. Then there still wouldn’t be a lantern in a window.
She slipped on her clothes, her boots and her warmest cloak, then paused at the door, glancing back just once. Felix slept on, blissfully unaware.
Outside, the air was bitter cold. Snow fell in thick, swirling flurries, blanketing the world in silence. Isolde cupped her hands around the lantern and conjured a bright little flame inside it. The magic came to her so easily now that it made her smile.
The lantern cast a warm circle of gold around her as she crossed the small courtyard. She examined the surrounding structures, trying to determine the highest point.
There – the tower near the library. Once, it had likely been an observatory, perhaps for drawing star charts. She’d climbed it before. In the daytime, when it wasn’t snowing, but still. The structure was sound, the stairs narrow but intact.
With the giddy determination of a naughty child up past her bedtime, she headed for the door at the tower’s base.
The first flights of stairs were fine. Dusty, and so cold her breath fogged in the glow of the lantern, but fine. When she reached a landing about two thirds of the way up, however, she was met with a blast of cold air and snow in her face. There had been a window in the wall here, once, but now it was nothing more than a great big hole, open to the elements. Wind knifed through the empty arch, snow gathered in heaps along the stairs. Ice crusted the stone steps, glistening treacherously.
Isolde hesitated. Perhaps she should just put it here. But no, she’d come this far. She’d make it to the highest window. As was tradition.
She placed each foot on the slippery stairs carefully, testing its grip before shifting her weight to it. One more step, then another. Almost there.
Then her boot hit a patch of ice she hadn’t seen. Her foot slid, her balance vanished. She yelped as her body tipped backwards, arms flailing.
She braced herself for the fall, but two strong hands caught her around the waist instead.
“What in all the hells,” Felix hissed into her ear, “are you doing?”
Isolde’s heart hammered against her ribs from the near-fall. “Sorry!” she stammered. “I… I slipped.”
“I noticed,” he said, hauling her upright with annoying ease. Snow clung to his wind-tossed hair and shoulders, his boots were unlaced. He must have run after her into the snowstorm the moment he noticed she was gone.
“I meant,” he continued, a hint of amusement in his voice, “what are you doing out here, in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm, on a staircase made of ice…?”
“I had to put the lantern up.” She held the thing up for him to see. “We forgot.”
He looked from her face to the lantern and back, blinking slowly. “The lantern,” he said finally, his words laced with a mixture of mirth and sarcasm. “Right. Of utmost importance, that.”
Isolde huffed. “It is! It’s tradition!”
“Since when are you a stickler for tradition, madam ‘let me break the world to build a new one’?”
“That’s not… This is different.” She glared at him. “Some traditions are more important than others.”
“And you couldn’t just put it… anywhere else? Our room has a window.”
“It needs to be the highest,” she said, setting her jaw stubbornly. “That’s the whole point.”
Felix shook his head, sighed fondly, then smiled. “Fine. Lead the way. I’ll catch you if you slip again.”
With him at her back, climbing the last two sets of stairs was suddenly easy, and they reached the top soon after. The observatory was not large, just spacious enough for a large table and a few crumbling shelves along the walls. The large glass dome in the roof had partially caved in, and a small pile of snow lay against the far wall. But the window nearest to the stairs was intact and looked out over all the snow-covered rooftops of the Nexus.
Isolde carefully placed the lantern on the wide stone windowsill. The flame burned merrily, reflecting in the window’s glass panes and bathing the room in a golden glow.
Felix’s arms slid around her from behind, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. Isolde sighed with contentment. The lantern was lit, the tradition upheld. The night was complete.
“What does the lantern signify, again?” Felix murmured, lips brushing her ear.
“New beginnings,” Isolde answered. “The return of light over darkness.”
He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss against her temple. “To new beginnings, then,” he said quietly. “Though as far as I’m concerned, the light never left.”
He wrapped his cloak around them both, and she turned around in his embrace. She studied his face in the soft light, the faint smile on his lips, the glow of the lantern reflected in his eyes. The way he looked at her, as if she was something sacred.
“Last year on this night,” Isolde said, “I stood at the highest window in our home in Azuill. I looked out at the stars and wondered what the next year would bring.” She smiled at the memory and shook her head. “Not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined any of this.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering along the curve of her jaw. “And where would you like to be on this night, one year from now?”
Isolde leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss. “Right here. With you.”
His answering grin was bright enough to rival the lantern’s glow. “I’d like that,”
“You would?”
“Very much.”
She kissed him again, tucking her hands under his cloak, letting the warmth of him seep into her freezing fingers. “Let’s go back to bed.”
“Please. I’m freezing my ass off.”
Happy holidays!
Here’s to a wonderful end of the year, and nothing but good things to come in 2026. Thank you for being along for the ride, I appreciate it so very much! Keep reading! 📚💖