The world was full of joy! Or so it seemed to Danae-Alisse. People rushing about making last second arrangements or getting the final needed item like so many eager beavers in a forest long never once visited. Joys of families and friends coming together in grandiose celebration that didn’t fail to rich the poorest and most destitute child of man. Not wanting to inflict her dismal attitude on anyone, the red-head made herself as scarce as misers, wretches, and hopeless souls who, despite all that they were, needed joy as much as anyone. Avoiding the campus, avoiding the city, the footsteps of the Danae-Alisse took her into Ceres forest.
Ignoring Jack Frost’s growing power on her nose and digits, Danae-Alisse crunched her way through the snow while clutching her school coat close to her. What warmed her was that, all the way out here, she’d be a bother to no one and no one would be a bother to her. Or was it what chilled her? But, in either both or neither event, Danae-Alisse was certain no one would have followed her out here, yet.
And she was quite right, no one had yet to track her down in the night. But that said nothing as to someone who was already waiting for, just as soon as she’d decided she’d gone far enough, Danae-Alisse caught a light. Flickering betwixt the trees some distance off. Questions bloomed across her mind, pushing depression aside for the moment as she wondered who on earth would be insane enough to be out in the middle of a frozen night on Christmas Eve. Then wondered if she was insane for also being out here.
Pushing such thoughts aside and allowing her curiosity to get the better of her, Danae-Alisse stumbled her way toward the light. As she’d guessed, it turned out to be fire, flickering in the night. Controlled and in a clearing, snapping merrily as another log of deadwood was lobbed onto it. The teen wasn’t sure if it was legal to have such an open fire here. She wasn’t sure of much at the moment as what dominated her mind at the moment was the tall man in a fur coat who had added the log to the blaze. Grizzle of a beard, black as a raven along with his eyes, he turned to face Danae-Alisse and smiled. It was only then did she realize that the man’s eyes were glittering merrily.
“Good ta be meetin’ ya,” he greeted, “been expectin’ ya ta turn up any o’ moment.”
“Ex-expecting me?”
“Course I have.”
“…what? How?”
“In the fire, a’course.”
“In the fire…what does that mean?”
“Good question that. Still tryin’ ta figure it out meself. But,” he turned and sifted through several sheets of paper before, with a cheery laugh, proffered it to Danae-Alisse saying, “this is you, no?”
Taking the sheet of parchment, Danae-Alisse beheld herself in black and white, sitting upon a log with a few sketches of trees surrounding her as she clutched a mug staring straight ahead. But it wasn’t the incredible precision that struck her. No, what struck Danae-Alisse was her own face. It looked peaceful. Not one of the false masks she’d begun to temper, but truly relaxed. She stared at it for a second before recalling that some people had visions, far-sight, or scrying such powers. “Power of yours?”
“Hah! Gift, yes. Power, perhaps. Understood, certainly not. But come in! Or rather, over to the fire. Jack Frost is big enough to nip off fingers and toes tonight, and ya need a bit o’ warmin’ before the snow comes down.”
“Jack Frost? Wait…snow?”
“Yes, girl, yes snow. Jack’s whippin’ up a mighty breeze. Tain’t safe to be wonderin’ much out here. He’ll start out gently. But before the night’s done, he’ll have a wonder of a storm whipped up! Least for these parts. Can feel it my bones. Trust yer bones afore much else, girl.”
“Ok…right,” she said, “so, if this is going to be a big blizzard, why’re you out here?”
“I live here,” he said as if the answer was obvious. And, with a quick glance, Danae-Alisse could see it was true. She hadn’t noticed it before because finding someone out here had been quite the surprise, but there was a tent of furs, clean cookware, and a bundle of firewood at the ready. “Modest livin’, tis true,” he continued, “But ya more than welcome ta what I have. So, come near the fire! Sit here! Afore Jack Frost nips ya again.”
She was rather cold. Almost absentmindedly, she walked over to the fire, marveling at how many crazy people lived inside this city, and sat down on a convenient stump. Although, she thought, if he lives here, he probably uses it all the time. Before her train of thought could continue, a warm mug was thrust into her hands with a sweet smell intermingling with spices wafting from it. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Medovukha. Don’t have much left. Hah! Didn’t have much to begin with. But tis a special occasion, so drink! Warms the bones and sweet as honey but with the right lash upon the tongue to keep ya awake.”
Modovukha, she thought. The teen had never heard of the drink before, casting it a suspicious glance before turning her eyes upon the man.
He laughed again. “Fi, girl. Not a drop of it poisoned,” sipping some from his own mug, opting not to sit down but keeping active moving and shifting about one piece of wood or tweaking a rope on his tent. Despite this, he seemed fully capable of keeping at least one eye on her. Tentatively, Danae-Alisse took a sip. It was exactly as the stranger described it, sliding smoothly across her tongue and down her throat. Enjoying it, she took another sip, and another. Soon its warmth penetrated her limbs. The fire crackled softly and, through this soft undertone, came:
“O svyataya noch'…”
The man was singing. Danae-Alisse didn’t know the language and didn’t mind it. It became part of the growingly peaceful background. For the first time since she’d come to this place, Danae-Alisse relaxed. The stranger, whoever he was, didn’t want anything from her, didn’t ask anything of her. Just talked when she asked questions, but had yet to demand anything. It was incredible.
Wait…, she thought, I haven’t even asked his name! Scrambling to recover from her mistake, she looked to the man again. In the time of the song, her drinking her Modovukha, and being lost in the calm, he’d strapped on some woven snow shoes, grabbed a walking stick and lit a lamp that hung from it. Her question died in her throat and was replaced with another. “You’re leaving?”
“Aye. Been seein’ many o’ people tonight and a few seem to be out tonight. Tis not the night for it, Jack Frost is growing bigger by the minute and snow is whipping around the corner. And not all can see the light of my fire. Ye should be headin’ to yer lodgin’ as well.” As he said this, the first flakes began to drift down. “He ain’t savage yet, but he won’t be calm for too long. Best be moving.”
“I see,” she replied, without really seeing at all, “but, who are you?”
“Durran Servansky, at ya service,” the man in the fur coat bowed. “Well then, be seeing you! Oh! And Merry Christmas!” Without another word, he turned and began to march his way out of the clearing.
“Err, good to meet you! Merry Christmas!” Danae-Alisse called back as she began to make her way back to school. What does he mean by, ‘be seeing you,’ she pondered, almost as if he knows we’ll meet again. She walked a few minutes in silence before suddenly realizing she still had his picture, having never returned it. Turning back, thinking to call out, but he was already gone, and the light of his lantern was nowhere to be seen. Danae-Alisse continued through the woods, flakes drifting down around her. Despite the cold, and the growing snow, Danae-Alisse felt strangely comfortable inside, and, without realizing it, not a single flake touch her all the way back to her dorm.
