Chapter Two – The Solstice Festival
963 Words
In Blackthorn, the winter solstice was celebrated to keep the wolves at bay.
Torches lit up the snow-covered streets, their flames reaching for the cold sky. Music spilled from fiddles and drums, echoing off the mountainside. The square glowed golden against winter’s white, buzzing with laughter, voices, and the aroma of roasting meat. For one night a year, Blackthorn shed its silence and superstition, becoming a beacon of light.
Selene moved among them, unseen as always.
Children raced past her with sparklers, leaving trails of light. Couples huddled together under heavy furs, faces close, lips brushing as if the night were crafted for romance. Laughter filled the air, warm enough to chase away the sharp frost.
She felt like a ghost drifting through it all.
Villagers glanced her way fleetingly, their eyes skimming over her pale hair and hollow look before darting away. Pity. Distrust. Unease. Selene could read them all without a word.
Her mother’s command echoed in her mind: stay quiet, stay small, stay unseen.
And so she did.
But her heart ached for something she couldn’t voice. She yearned to be touched, chosen, and wanted as easily as the girl laughing with the boy who pressed a kiss to her hand near the torchlight. She longed for someone’s eyes to meet hers across the flickering crowd and linger, not drift away.
She craved belonging.
The music swelled, the fiddle’s notes wild and bright, urging dancers to spin faster. Flames leapt higher as offerings,—grain, bread, and carved wood—were cast into the fire to keep wolves at bay.
Selene lingered on the edge of the square, the fire’s warmth brushing her face, but the cold clung to her bones.
Her younger sister Liora passed by with friends, hair braided with ribbons, laughter sweet as bells. She didn’t glance Selene’s way. The sight stung more sharply than the cold air.
Selene turned away.
The forest loomed beyond the square, a wall of black trees pressing close. The shadows seemed to whisper, tugging at her chest. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t look away.
The music and fire blurred behind her, muffled as if she had already left.
“Selene.”
Her mother’s voice cut through the noise, harsh and sharp.
Selene flinched. Her mother stood by the torches, wearing her usual mask of disdain. Her tone was a warning, a leash.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, as if Selene were a stray too near the feast.
The warmth in Selene’s chest flickered out.
She lowered her eyes, turned without a word, and let the music fade behind her.
The torches stopped. The snow-laden pines swallowed her.
And still, the pull drew her deeper into the woods, away from fire and safety, into silence.
The forest at night was far from silent; it was alive.
It breathed.
Snow fell gently, whispering through the towering pines, settling over frost-laden branches. The wind wove through them like a haunting melody, low and endless, encircling her. Somewhere in the distance, water stirred, the river groaning mournfully beneath its icy cover.
Selene's boots crunched softly against the powdery snow as she moved deeper into the woods, the lively festival fading behind her like a distant memory, a dream slipping away. The forest's allure grew stronger, almost magnetic, as if an unseen hand guided her steps into the shadows ahead.
Her breath formed misty clouds that hung in the cold air. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders, seeking comfort, yet the cold didn't sting as it usually did. In fact, the deeper she ventured, the warmer she felt, a surprising heat blossoming under her skin, awakening something deep within.
The trees thickened around her, shadows stretching as she moved cautiously forward.
She should have turned back. She knew the local folklore whispered around hearths, the chilling warnings etched into prayer stones: wolves roamed these parts, taking those who strayed too far from the safety of flickering torches. Yet an instinctual feeling in her bones assured her that the wolves were already close, lurking just beyond her vision, whether she ran or stood still.
Suddenly, a branch snapped behind her.
She froze, her heart stumbling in her chest. Slowly, she turned, but the path lay empty, swallowed by snow and darkness among the ancient trunks.
Still, an unsettling feeling of being watched clung to her.
Her pulse quickened, hammering in her ears. She picked up her pace, turning each step into a desperate rush, her breath coming in ragged bursts. Every sound felt amplified; the whispering wind and the creaking branches were too loud and too sharp, each noise heightening her sense of imminent danger.
Then she felt it.
“The Eyes”
They burned in the dark crimson, unblinking, fixed intensely on her.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed frozen.
A shadow slinked between the trees, massive and low to the ground, its sleek fur glistening in the scant moonlight filtering through the branches.
The wolf stepped forward.
Its coat was as black as midnight, so dark it seemed to consume the very essence of night. Its eyes shone with a disturbing red light, piercing into her soul, while its teeth glinted white and sharp, like daggers.
Selene felt immobilized. Every instinct screamed to flee, but her legs betrayed her, rooted firmly in the cold, unforgiving snow.
The wolf’s gaze locked with hers. In that instant, she felt it delve deep within her, cold and searing all at once, as if it saw everything, her loneliness, her unfulfilled desires, and the hidden secrets even she hadn't uncovered.
It moved closer, drawn to her spirit as if captivated.
Her lips parted in a trembling breath, fear mingled with a strange exhilaration.
The wolf lowered its head, then lunged.
- Writer
