An hour later the winds had died down, and a cold stillness had settled over the mountains as the villagers departed from their houses, mingling together in the square with steaming pots tightly covered against the cold and smiling face beneath the paint. Children ran ahead, laughing and garbed in masks crafted by their own hands. There, a young boy played as a great wolf, while another flew his arms out to sore like the gods themselves across the powdery snow.
In the great hall the torches burned, casting flickering light across the stone walls as the food was set up on a long table. Chatter filled the spaces as the elder took to the center of the room and raised his hands, and then fell to a hush. His voice rang out through the room like an echo.
“On this day, we acknowledge all that we have. Despite the hardships, we thrive, because we are strong. Because we are protected by the strength of our gods, and to them we give thanks. Please bring forth your offerings.”
A large basket was placed before the elder and people began to trickle into a line with their gifts. Meat was the most common thing offered, and truly the most preferable. One man offered up a live mountain goat that he had caught, some only the meager cuts of meat they could afford to spare. Each family contributed, for it would be shameful to not offer something.
Imenry watched as her father and the other guardian chosen, a mage from the temple, took their places beside the Elder and lifted the basket between them. The goat was led behind by a rope, unaware of the fate that would meet it. She watched as they disappeared down one of the hallways, the light of the torches they carried flickering behind long after they had passed from vision. For a moment, the all stood in silence, before someone threw up a cheer and then the musicians of the village began to play. Imenry drifted away from the dance floor, her eyes scanning the crowds for friends and familiar faces. She could see her mother dancing with Brennan and laughed, waving at him before she turned at a touch on her shoulder.
Greeted by the smiling faces of her grandmother and uncle, Imenry embraced them both. The warmth of family and friends surrounded her, the sounds of laughter and music, and the pride of a people that would carry on no matter if everything else disappeared. In the cold stillness of the mountain town a people far removed celebrated in their own way, the lights that flickered across Thedas and the songs that were sung were joined by their own, and carried off into the longest night.