The wind was a howling gale through the mountains and this winter one of the harshest that Imenry had seen in her twenty years. Still, as she peered out through the small window in the Temple she could see the flames of the torches flickering and a clear sky. No snow, yet.
The large fir tree that grew closest to the center of town was adorned with decorations, wound with ribbons and string, little pinecones colored with red by the children of the village clung stubbornly to the tree through the force of the winds.
"Hopefully the wind will die down by this evening," a voice commented from behind her and she turned to smile upwards at her father as he joined her at the window. They looked very alike, both wearing the armor of Temple guardians; a dragon scale breastplate and matching leg-plates latched over the layers of furs and leathers. The thick white and grey wolf fur she usually wore was draped across her shoulders and she wore the claymore that had been presented to her by the Temple two years back. Her father's own claymore was much more impressive, but he still wielded the weapon with a great deal of skill and would for many years before it passed into her hands.
The warmth of his hand clasped her shoulder before he wrapped his arm around her and hugged her against his side. "Come on, time to get home to your mother so we can get ready for the celebration."
Imenry wrinkled her nose slightly, a habit she'd carried since childhood. Irich laughed as they walked outside. "What, don't you enjoy the Winter Solstice celebration?"
"To be honest, I prefer the Summer Solstice," she replied as they trudged through the snow and wind towards their home.
Irich laughed. “Because it’s warmer? Don’t tell me you’re getting soft my girl.”
She smiled and opened the door that led to their house. Through the inner door the smells of food drifted and the sound of a fire crackling in the hearth. Imenry stomped the snow from her boots and hung the fur over her shoulders on one of the hooks by the door.
As her father went into the kitchen to greet his wife with a kiss and attempt to steal some of the food she was cooking for the celebration, Imenry called out a greeting and took the steps two at a time up to her room.
Under the sloped ceiling the room was chilly, but it was a temperature Imenry was used to. She ducked her head low to cross to her bed and sat down to remove the armor. Winter Solstice was a tradition that went back to the time before her people had come to these mountains. Traditionally they’d been respectful of nature and thus the changing of the seasons was always celebrated in some manner. In the mountains it truly made little difference. In the summer there would be snow on the ground just as in winter. But the traditions of yesterday held fast, somewhat modified for the traditions of new.
Today they would all leave offerings to the dragon which would be escorted by the village elder and two of the senior temple guardians deep into the caverns behind the temple. Imenry wasn’t yet old enough for the honor, but her grandfather was the elder and this year her father was one of those chosen to accompany him. It was considered a great honor. Afterwards there would be a great celebration held within the great hall of the temple. All of the women of the village brought food, and everyone arrived with their faces painted, or wearing masks that represented the gods of nature of their past. There would be a great deal of drinking, song and dancing, as the night grew long in the Gammordan Peaks.
Tugging a brush through her hair, Imenry dug through the small chest beside her bed for her blue face paint. Downstairs she could hear her mother’s laughter, and her father’s murmuring voice and smiled to herself.