Submission (#2808) Approved

Ah, Brigitte sighed as she stretched out her toes on the warm cobblestones. After many days with her paws buried in snow, this was a real treat. Unlike Skolvigaard, where she had first set foot in Strynhalde, the streets of Iorumund were heated with hot water pumped through a series of underground pipes. In addition to keeping paws toasty, this kept snow from accumulating on the ground, making it unnecessary to plow and shovel after snowstorms.

The grand eldertree loomed above the city, its icy blue-black bark sparkling in the sunlight. An occasional gust of wind would jostle its soft white leaves, sending glittering flurries sprinkling down toward the snow-covered rooftops.

“…and then I was clinging to the branch for dear life and… wait, have any of you seen the Hallow Witch?” The kittoms shook their heads. “Good. If you’re ever in the woods and the mist starts rolling in, turn tail and run.”

“Be careful what you wish for, little one. She might just steal your heart!” The fiery nin tore his massive necklace from his chest, exposing an inky black void in his chest. The kittoms screamed and ran away. Brigitte gasped. Heart of the void…

“Silly uncle.” Aveline laughed as she kneaded the fur on his neck, not at all repelled by the hole in his chest just inches from her paws.

“Azarah,” he said, holding out his paw.

“Brigitte,” she replied, placing her paw in his. He bowed down and gave her paw a gallant kiss.

“Are you in town for Feyhallow?”

“Just visiting for a few more days.”

“Well, you chose a glorious time,” Azarah said with a wink. “The festival officially starts the day after tomorrow. Nothing quite like it in all of Eyre. Do you need a costume?”

“Costume?” Brigitte glanced down at her thick, gray cloak. It was warm but it wasn’t much to look at. She hadn’t packed anything fit for a festival.

“Can we, Auntie Bri?” Aveline danced excitedly and hopped onto Brigitte’s back.

Brigitte nodded, and Azarah led them through the town’s open-air marketplace. The snow-covered stalls housed all manner of treasures, trinkets and regional delicacies.

“Auntie Ammy!” Aveline cried out as they neared one of the stalls. She ran over to a gorgeous red and white nin, who was wrapped in a furry white shawl and whose head, ears and neck were draped in fine golden chains. The two nins rubbed faces affectionately.

“This is my partner, Amaryllis,” Azarah gave the lovely nin a slow blink and she returned the gesture. “And this is our shop.”

The tables overflowed with goods, including gemstones, fossils, beads, incense, rich fabrics and intricate carvings of animals in soapstone. Brigitte gasped as her eyes came to rest on a bundle of thick white wool, embroidered with silver snowflakes. Now that would make a fine cloak.

Azarah cleared his throat. “So… costumes. I’m sure you saw the ice sculptures outside of town.” Brigitte nodded. “Those are said to be the guardians of the village – the dragon, the fox, the jackalope, the bear, the phoenix and the horned beetle.”

Brigitte had marveled at the grand statues, carved out of the bluest ice. Each appeared to interact with a giant ball of snow.

“Most of the villagers dress up as one of those four heroes,” Azarah continued. “Amaryllis and I are planning to be the dragon and the phoenix.”

“I call the jackalope!” Aveline squeaked.

“How about… the fox for me.” Brigitte chimed in.

“It’s settled. Now where did we leave those masks and cloaks…” Azarah dug around under the table.

“Oh, those old things. I sold them, dear,” Amaryllis shrugged. “You left them out on the table this morning, and someone made an offer I couldn’t refuse. We can always buy more from…”

“Umm… maybe I can make some?” Brigitte shifted her paws nervously. “I make props for a theater company back home.”

“And I can sew cloaks!” Aveline offered.

“Splendid!” Azarah exclaimed, then gestured at the table. “Take any supplies that you need!”

Brigitte filled her satchel with silver wire and an assortment of seed beads, while Aveline bundled up the white woolen fabric. Amaryllis supplied a sewing machine and sewing kit. The three nins left Azarah to keep shop and wheeled a small cart back to the lodge.

Brigitte sketched out the designs for each mask and accessories, while Amaryllis and Aveline created patterns for the cloaks. The lodge was at the edge of the village, and Brigitte and Aveline had been lucky enough to rent a room with views of Strynhald’s famed white mountains. As she formed the frames for each mask, Brigitte imagined these majestic creatures roaming the wilds of Strynhalde. The dragon and phoenix soared through the skies, glancing down at the jackalope and the fox skating across a frozen lake.

After two days of diligent work, the costumes were complete. Aveline and Amaryllis marveled at the spectacular beaded masks, miniature wings and horns that sparkled in the sun, while Brigitte admired the fabulous, white and silver cloaks. Each was lined with fluffy white faux fur and felt amazingly luxurious and cozy. The fox and rabbit cloaks had ears sewn into their hoods, while the phoenix and dragon cloaks had tails that dangled from the backs. Brigitte couldn’t wait to wear hers at the festival!