[Gift] The 11th Hour | Lantern

Lanterns danced in the ever-dark of winter at the far, far north. This was the longest night, where the sun began waning as soon as it rose, only a handful of hours before relinquishing again to night.

The darkness of the mind was, here, more acute, more damning. All living creatures needed light not just to live but to be well; when starved, many shriveled, and could only bide time ‘til the Solstice came.

“I’m here,” a soft voice over the howl of the winter wind, a warm body. No fur nor velvet scales, but hot all the same, beating back the cold. “You’ve waited long enough.”

The display around her throat showed visions of summer, fireworks that counted the sky like stars. One lantern quested back towards the village. In the distance, the shadows of longhouses. Safety instead of hypothermia, hope instead of despair.

“You’re doing well.” She let the wasted, weakened body lean on her, shielded them from the wind as best she could. “Another step. Another. Keep going.”

The colors of her, the softer colors of spring but then the blazing saturation of summer that lingered even after eyes were closed. When the dark had to be invited with heavy curtains and eyemasks worn to bed, and even then, the sun sat behind the eyelids, painting the same pattern that was on Solstice’s shoulder.

“Yes. And it’s waiting for you, still. Come along, then.” Their legs faltered, and a hand grabbed a horn at her head. Solstice bore up under it, her own breath pluming as she fought off an instinctive growl.

She saw them to their door, to the welcoming arms of their loved ones who, asleep, hadn’t known their kinsman had slipped away, and then bore her lanterns back out into the dark. The night always tried to take more than its share, but she would be there.