Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 45

On Christmas morning, Charlotte woke up just as she always did on this day—her face aglow with a smile and a joyful song in her heart. Eagerly, she rushed downstairs to rouse Alastor and Vagatha. Together, the three of them prepared a delightful breakfast of pancakes, her father's favorite morning treat. They crafted two delectable varieties: one infused with cinnamon and cream, and the other made with butter and cornmeal, offering a choice between sweet and savory.

After breakfast, Charlotte, Alastor, and Vagatha donned their finest clothes and made their way to church for the service. Upon arrival, they encountered Anthony, Molly, and Heinrich. When the miller mentioned that he planned to spend Christmas drinking alone, Charlotte immediately invited him to join them for Christmas dinner. Initially, he declined the offer, but as Alastor began to enumerate the mouthwatering dishes they would be serving, he found himself unable to resist the temptation.

When church concluded, the local children burst out into the snow, eager to play, engage in snowball fights, ice skate, and go sledding. Alasotr, a human with the heart of a frost sprite, couldn't resist the temptation to join in on the winter festivities.

Charlotte, Alastor, Anthony, and Molly laughed and played in the snow, their cheeks flushed with the cold and joy of the moment. They built snowmen and engaged in spirited snowball fights, their delighted squeals echoing through the crisp winter air. As expected, Vagatha preferred to sit on the sidelines, watching the fun unfold rather than joining in the frosty festivities.

"Isn't she bored just sitting there and watching?" Anthony asked.

"Probably," Alastor replied. "But she'd rather do that than be any closer to ice and snow than necessary. She hates winter. Always has."

"Because she's like a summer and spring sprite, right?" Anthony chuckled.

"That's part of it."

"Oh? What's the other part?"

Alastor's expression grew serious. "She witnessed her parents die in the winter."

Anthony turned to look at Alastor, concerned.

"Her parents and mine were both killed by an avalanche of ice and snow."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been."

"That's why she's never been able to enjoy winter; to her, it's just a reminder of death and despair. It doesn't help that it's often called the 'dead season.' I've thought about trying to introduce her to the joys of winter many times, but I didn't want to push her—at least not on that topic."

"Well, I don't think she needs to be pushed. She just needs to see winter from a different perspective."

"I've tried that, but it hasn't worked. I've told her how much fun ice skating and sledding can be, but she still isn't interested."

"Maybe you just didn't present it in the right way."

"What do you mean?"

"Watch and learn."

With that, Anthony walked over and sat next to Vagatha, tilting his head upward to catch the falling snowflakes.

"What are you doing?" Vagatha asked, puzzled.

"Watching the bees," he replied.

"Bees?"

"Yeah, bees."

"Okay, you do realize we're in the middle of winter, right?"

"Yes, I'm fully aware."

"So you know there are no bees in winter."