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The Winter Solstice

Shivering in her fur coat, Adelina adjusted the stack of firewood clutched in her arms. Rolling hills and farms stretched ahead, and a bitter winter breeze whipped through the tallgrass.

She trudged along a beaten trail winding towards the village. Large pine trees dotted the fields and framed the small town, shielding the buildings from the harsh seasonal winds.

A hand clamped onto her shoulder. She leapt forward, almost losing her grip on the wood as a scream escaped her mouth. A hearty laugh filled the air as Damir, her best friend, hunched over, holding his stomach.

“That’s not funny.” She pouted and planted her gloved hand on her hip .

Damir smirked, then tucked his hand into the nook of her elbow. “Come on. We mustn’t be late. Your ma’s expecting us at noon.”

“She’s been preparing for this lunch all week—says it’s important for me to remember where I come from and be grateful for what I have, especially right now.

” As they drew nearer to the village, Adelina’s stomach rumbled.

The scent of warm, fresh bread mixed with the woodsy aroma of rosemary wafted through the air.

“Seems as if the whole town is getting ready for the solstice.”

They hurried along the path towards an iron archway.

A weathered stone wall marked the perimeter of the settlement.

Snow blanketed the top, blemished by the small tracks of robins.

Jutting out of the ground was a signpost with a quaint message etched into its rough surface.

Welcome to Aramoor. Home to Temauten’s famous rosemary twist.

“She’s right. The winter solstice is a time for us to forget what lies beyond these walls.” Damir scooped up a handful of snow, patted it into a tight ball, then launched it in Adelina’s direction.

She ducked out of the way, her boots skidding on the ice. A boisterous laugh escaped her lips as she tumbled into the shrubs, sending snow and logs into the air.

“Ad! Are you okay?” Stifling a chuckle, he stuck his hand out. He hoisted her out of the bush, then brushed her down.

Adelina blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Ma is going to kill me. Lunch’ll be ready and I won’t have time to clean.”

“I’ll tell her it was me.” He bent, gathered the logs, then led the way through the archway. Buildings lined either side of the path, and further into the town, laundry hung on rope between houses, from one window to another.

“It was you.” She swatted him on the arm. “Do you think it’ll be hard—the test? It’s in three days, and I can’t even begin to comprehend—”

“We ought not worry about it now, when a feast awaits us.” He strode along the frosted cobbles in the direction of Adelina’s home.

She sighed, thoughts of the impending test festering in her mind like a cloud that wouldn’t pass. As she hurried after him, the question burrowed into her stomach, heavy and immovable. What if she was the person who Filip Tarasov was looking for?

An influential and wealthy nobleman who lived in Toichrist, north of Temauten, his name sent shivers down her spine.

He possessed a strong, ancient power known as nether .

The test was used to identify the long-lost other half of his power, one that shared an unbreakable, magnetic bond. They called it astral .

Rubbing her fingers up and down her arms, she wondered if astral flowed within her veins. She shook her head and dropped her hands to her sides. There was no history of magic in her family, nor anyone in the small village in which they lived.

When they reached the Orlov home, Damir opened the door for her, and they were greeted by warmth emanating from the large stove in the centre of the room.

A layer of white-painted pebbles covered the brick frame of the oven, keeping the surface cool to the touch.

Inside the opening, stood two pots, simmering.

“The bread smells fantastic, Ma,” Adelina chimed as she kissed her mother’s cheeks. Her gaze wandered to the fresh loaf resting on the wire rack on the table beside them.

Velinka held her daughter at arms-length and tutted. “Oh, look at you. Snow everywhere. Damir, are your parents joining us?”

He dropped the logs into a basket, removed his ushanka from his head, then shook her hand. “Yes, they’ll be around any time now.”

Velinka checked her leather-strap watch, then flattened her apron. “The stew will be ready in a few minutes.” She took a towel, folded it several times, then gripped the pot’s handle and pulled it out of the stove to inspect.

Adelina handed her mother a wooden spoon to stir the beef stew with.

“Be a dear and fetch the plates and cutlery.” She gestured to her daughter. “Lay the table and grab a bottle of vodka from the cupboard.”

When a knock sounded at the door, Velinka placed the pot back into the stove, then crossed the room to answer. Jasen and Mirelle Litvin, Damir’s parents, stood in the entrance with bright smiles upon their faces.

“These are for you, Velinka.” Jasen handed her a bouquet of pansies.

“Oh, there was no need to bring flowers.”

“You have prepared a wonderful feast for us. Please, I insist.”

“Very well.” She took the bouquet as a warm smile spread across her lips, then rummaged in the cupboard for a vase. Once she’d filled it with water, she settled the pansies inside.

Velinka returned to Jasen, and offered her hand to him, which he shook. He and his wife removed their coats, ushankas, and gloves, hung them on the coat rack, then stepped into the living area.

“Please sit, everyone. Dinner will be served momentarily.” Velinka gestured to the wooden chairs around the large oak table.

Mirelle kissed her on each cheek, then took a seat beside her husband.

Once she finished dressing the table, Adelina relaxed into her chair next to Damir. Her stomach groaned loudly, and her mouth watered in anticipation—her mother’s rosemary twist was the finest in the village, although she was modest herself.

The door flung open, and Daro Orlov strode in with his younger daughter, Tihana, in tow. “Afternoon, everyone. Please excuse my tardiness. I’ve been busy at the workshop.”

He crossed the room, embraced his wife, and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Tihana removed her out-clothes, then scooted in next to her sister at the dinner table. Her hair was braided down the length of her back, and her cheeks were rosy from the chilly winter breeze.

“How’s the business treating you?” Jasen asked.

“There’s a steady flow of customers. Not only am I making new stoves, but I’m servicing now, too.”

“You’re quite the successful businessman. The whole town is talking about you.” Mirelle smiled.

Velinka unscrewed the bottle of vodka, then poured a glass for everyone. “Today, we celebrate prosperity and the winter solstice. Please join me in a toast for another fruitful year. And let’s not forget Adelina and Damir’s test in a few days. I’m sure you’ll both be fine. ”

A ripple of anxiety rose from the pit of Adelina’s stomach at the thought of the test.

“I’ll do the test, as is expected of me. It happens every year, and no one with astral magic is ever found.” She injected as much confidence into her tone as she could. “And if they do find the person who has it—however small the possibility—they’ll have a lot to deal with.”

Her gaze focused on her mother, who shrunk a fraction in her chair.

“They’d be taken away from their family, everything they’ve ever known.

If the test shows they have astral magic, how could they trust Filip’s intensions?

We all know he is a powerful man, and with an astral wielder by his side, he would be at his strongest. I pray it isn’t you.

A life of subservience is not what I envision for you. ” She narrowed her gaze on Adelina.

From the corner of her eye, Adelina spotted Damir lowering his head. In her case, she wouldn’t just lose her family, but him too.

“Whoever is the wielder, I hope they would choose to find the light in the darkness, that they will do what they can to help people,” she said, although her voice was small.

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

“If Filip wants power, he needs to be reminded of those below him—those who need wielders.”

Silence hung over the table—the genial atmosphere from a few moments ago turned tense.

Velinka cleared her throat, plastered a large smile on her face, then clasped her cup between her hands and gulped a large mouthful. Clomping the cup beside her plate, she dished up the beef stew. Steam plumed from the bowls of food as she set them in front of each guest.

The two families waited as she turned to carve the fresh rosemary twist into thick slices. She stacked them onto a plate and placed it in the centre of the table.

“Tuck in,” she said—her forehead furrowing.

Adelina stretched across the table, then clasped her mother’s hand. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Nodding, Velinka brought a spoonful of food to her mouth.

Adelina grabbed her bread and dunked it into the hearty stew.

She took a large bite, savouring the sweetness of the caramelised onions, the earthiness of bay leaves, and the smoky heat of paprika, which all complimented the lean beef.

She moaned approval as her tastebuds buzzed. “This is wonderful.”

Velinka blushed, and her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, dear. Daro, my love, have you received word from Pyotr? Are he and the wife all right since their stove broke down a few weeks ago?”

Daro paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. A silence fell over the dinner table.

He placed his cutlery in the bowl and cleared his throat. “There was a crack in the flue’s brickwork, which is dangerous. They’re under strict instruction not to use it until it’s replaced.”

Jasen scratched his chin and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve seen him stumbling out of the tavern at all hours of the evening. I feel for his wife—”