Snowfall: A Short Story

Chapter One

Alia stared out of the window, her nose pressed against the frosty surface. With her wide, blue eyes, she surveyed the world outside.

The trees were bare, not a single leaf in sight. The clouds loomed, somber and grey.

"Do you think it's going to snow tonight, Papa?" Alia asked as her father joined her.

Her father looked down at her fondly, his brown eyes twinkling. "We shall see." He ruffled her hair and she giggled.

"Now, get your nose off the glass. It smudges."

Alia grinned and retracted her nose, and ran to the kitchen to pester Mother until supper.

*

"Kila, it might snow tonight!" Alia exclaimed, tugging on her older sister's dress sleeve.

"I know." Kila offered her a grin and delicately sipped her soup. Kila did everything delicately. Alia often found herself jealous of her sister and her beauty, but her mother assured her that she would grow to be just as elegant.

"Snow!" screeched Benji, who was only four. He banged the tabletop and started singing a wordless tune incredibly off-pitch. Alia grimaced, but smiled at his enthusiasm.

"Eat your soup, Alia," her father chided her gently, and Alia hurriedly took a mouthful of the warm liquid.

*

Alia tried to stay up that night, like every other night she had thought it might snow, but, also like every other night, she soon fell asleep in her bay window.

She was woken by Benji's insistent prodding of her shoulder. Starting, she jerked away and blinked several times to clear the sleep from her eyes. Then, gasping, she covered her mouth and stared out of the window.

Snow!

Alia shrieked with glee and leapt to her feet, grabbing Benji's chubby hands and swinging him around her small bedroom. Her side and arms hurt from being pressed against the hard wood of the windowsill, and her nose was cold from where it had been centimeters from the outside chill permeating her window.

Benji giggled and whooped. "Let's go get Daddy!"

"And Kila!"

"And Mommy!"

Alia scooped up her baby brother and dashed out of her bedroom door and down the hall to her sister's bedroom. She rapped impatiently on the door and, without waiting for a response, barged in.

Her sister was at her window already, looking out across the whitened world. She turned, not surprised, and smiled serenely. Alia thought that she looked like a snow princess, standing in her warm cream nightgown, her brown hair falling loosely around her shoulders and her window framing her shoulders, neck, and head. She smiled and trotted across the room to Kila.

Kila took Benji from her arms and rested her cheek against Alia's head. "Happy Snowfall," she whispered, and Alia's spirits lifted.

"So it did snow before midnight!" she exclaimed, punching the air in glee. The festival of Snowfall was only held the day after the first snow, and it counted even if it had snowed at 11:00 at night.

"Yes; I stayed up to wait for it."

"But how did you know it was going to snow?" persisted Alia. She tried to stay awake at night whenever she expected snow and had already been wrong two or three times that month.

"I had a feeling," Kila whispered, smiling one of her special, all-knowing smiles, and Alia felt sure that her sister was, in fact, a snow princess, a queen of the ice.

*

Alia was surrounded by her family and fellow townsfolk on the walk to town. She held her father's hand. On her father's left side was her mother. On Alia's right side was Benji, and finally, Kila.

Alia hummed the same wordless tune that Benji was so fond of singing and did a little skip. She breathed out an elongated breath and watched the cloud disappear quickly into the air. She couldn't be happier. The first snow had fallen, her family was all together, and they were going to the most joyful festival of the year!

They soon arrived in the town square. It was already alive with vendors and townsfolk. Children ran between the skirts and trousers of their parents and friends' parents, giggling and screaming. Vendors, unlike at other festivals, didn't push for people to purchase their merchandise, but often had conversations with adults about any subject at hand. Teenagers like Kila walked hand-in-hand with their sweethearts or swooped from stall to stall, especially the ones with food and, for the girls, clothing and jewelry.

"You know the rules," Papa said, and the children took off.

Every year, the children were permitted to traverse the festival grounds until midday, when the Elders would elect the child to go into the forest and pick the flowers for the final festivities. It was the only day of the year in which every adult could trust every child completely in letting them rein free.

*

After hours of tasting sweets, meeting up with schoolmates, and playing games in the snow, the children met up with their parents as the sun took its position directly above the Snowfall festival, barely shining through clouds that hinted at more snow.

The townsfolk and their children congregated around the town clock in the center of the square, where the Elders, five old men with wrinkled faces and wise eyes stood solemnly. It was just electing a child to pick the customary festival flowers from the forest, but the Elders' quiet power made it feel more serious and crucial.

The youngest of them (still by no means youthful) stepped forward, carefully removing a piece of parchment from his pocket and opening it slowly, suspensefully. Every child leaned forward, waiting to hear his verdict. Alia felt both hope and fear at the prospect of being chosen.

The Elder looked up and stared her directly in the eyes, and Alia felt that he had seen straight to her soul.

"Alia Peters."