Submission (#6344) Approved

Strynhalde is a harsh environment built to connect others and inspire personal growth. At least, that’s the reason Lufei gave the Order when he requested a transfer from Zevija to the winter wasteland ahead of schedule.

The real reason is that Strynhalde has no scent.

Of course there are small trails that prey animals leave for predators, burning leather hides from locals creating adequate insulation, fresh pine tar—

That is to say, Lufei can avoid these if he’s careful. Nowadays the Faenin carries a sprig of rosemary or lavender around his neck for easy scenting.

As if that’ll wash out the sulfur and iron permanently sticking to his nose. No, he’d rather hide out in the barren outbacks of the frozen Strynhalde tundra than confront that truth. His boss probably knows it, too, but is too kind to say anything. Inksha has always seen too much of Lufei in that regard.

Grimacing, Lufei tugs his scarf tighter around his neck. The boots he’d purchased at the border of Strynhalde are of decent quality, but he sinks into the snow with every step. He’d fly to his cabin, but he’d been swayed into purchasing wing coverings for the cold weather and he wasn’t about to let the coin go to waste.
Slogging through snow-capped forests isn’t exactly his favorite thing to do, but at least it’s monotonous. It’s also calming to be completely surrounded by a sea of white crystalline surfaces, a powdery oasis of cold.

A couple mountain ridges rise in the distance to his right. They, too, are topped with a milky layer of ice, spilling over the top and rushing to meet the bottom of the slopes. Huffing out a breath, Lufei watches it fog in front of his face.

The cabin he’s staying in is about another five minutes worth of walking more. When he arrives, Lufei takes in the icicles hanging over each ledge with trepidation. They seem fairly stable, but the sharp tips are definitely cause for concern.

Lufei can practically imagine the ice spears falling, striking, filling his vision with red and his nose with iron, with scratching, with—

Breathe.

Lufei takes a deep inhale of his lavender locket. Exhale. Inhale, and exhale.

Shaking his head, the Faenin opens the door to the log cabin. None of the icicles even shiver.

The inside is sparsely furnished, but quilted blankets depicting snow-filled adventures cover every available surface. If Lufei had to guess, an older granny ‘nin lived here previously. Now it’s just a rental property for people like Lufei looking to get away for a bit.

Settling his backpack onto an empty chair, Lufei starts undressing his layers. A large fireplace is situated in the center of the room. Lufei throws a couple logs into the pit before setting it alight. A pale orange glow suffuses throughout the frigid abode, casting Lufei in warm hues.

Fire started, Lufei starts grabbing a couple other items he’ll need to get fully settled in. Making his way to the kitchen, he grabs some frozen fruit from the freezer. A paring knife to shave the sides and dig out the pits comes out next. Lastly, Lufei grabs the lavender locket and stuffs his nose to it one more time. 

By the time he gets back to the fireplace to warm up from his trek, the immediate area has changed. It makes Lufei pause in the doorway, gripping it harshly.

There's a ring of burnt embers on the great woven rug nestled in front of the flames. The soot almost seems to have drifted from the bottom of the pit into a perfect circle, one of thick, caustic grundge. Within the circle is nestled a single piece of untouched bark that appears to have been stripped right off the tree. An invisible wind tugs him closer, closer, closer-

'Good evening,' Lufei greets the spirits in his head. He doesn't know whether they truly perceive his thoughts, but the air around him grows tense and silent, save for his heartbeat. The kittom tucks his paws under him as he kneels in front of the circle. 'I've not... I'm sorry, for putting off commune with you like this. But, if you are willing to look past my trespass, I am in need of a blessing.'

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on the scent of lavender. Watch the flames.

'I know I haven’t spoken with you all much lately, and I apologize,' Lufei continues thinking. It’s almost like he can feel eyes on him from all directions, now. 'It’s been… hard.'

Being a Faenin, he has a deeper connection to the Fae; but that also means he’s expected to pay his respects more often.

'I know I shouldn’t make excuses.'

Lufei falls deeper into the trance. The fire seems to roar ever higher; if it grows any hotter it might just singe off the fur on Lufei’s face. He winces.

'I’m sorry.'

The fire stops hissing and crackling dangerously, but doesn’t yet diminish. Now is the best time to request anything, so Lufei goes for it. With shaking claws, Lufei tugs once, twice, and a third time in order to wrench the locket of lavender off of his neck. The scent that had relieved him of his terrifying memories provides him with a sense of comfort one last time, and he offers it out to the Fae without hesitation.

'I need a blessing of the mind; please allow me to forget.'

The air around him stills. It turns cold despite the dim flame, the world outside stopping in time. Nothing moves; nothing breathes—not even Lufei.

Then, suddenly, Lufei feels his chest expand. The air has turned soft and supple like putty, flowing in and out of his lungs with ease. He open his eyes—not even realizing he had closed them in the first place—and watches the fire snuff itself out. He's empty handed, now; even the fruit from his palm is gone, and the soot has been rearranged in a facsimile of a smiling face.

Bemused, Lufei smiles back.