Winter Solstice with the Misfits

The Legend

Once upon a time Ymir, the Guardian of ice and snow, looked at the lives of his older siblings and felt envy. He watched Lirrin frolic in the waves with her selkies, teaching them to fish and protect themselves. He watched Gael guiding the land-dwellers, showing them how to treat each other fairly and with respect. Weryn, Guardian of the air, danced among the clouds with the dragons. And Vrast, fierce Guardian of fire, spent his days sculpting new islands and playing with the magmice.

Ymir's own lands lay empty and silent, devoid of the laughter and life brought by mortals. And every year when he brought the cold winds and snow of winter down onto the mortal lands, he was met with barred doors and bundled-up figures that hastened indoors to their warm firesides. When he tried to approach them, the mortals ran away in terror.

"Perhaps they're just not used to me," he said. "Perhaps if I stayed longer, they would come out to play."

And so he lingered, bringing cold upon cold to the mortal lands. Snow piled up, the ground froze hard, and even the great rivers stopped running. The mortals began to run out of food. Ymir sculpted sparkling castles and ice slides every day in hopes he'd have friends to play with, but no one came.

*~*

The other Guardians called a meeting in the place between worlds, neutral ground.

"This has to stop! My volcanoes are getting cold," Vrast grumbled, belching smoke.

"I can't reach the shore, it's buried behind layers of ice," Lirrin declared. Her dramatic gesture sent sparkling droplets of water cascading through the air.

Weryn gave a gusty sigh. "The dragons can't fly safely in these blizzards."

All looked to their eldest sister for a solution to their plight. Gael sat lost in thought for a time, until Lirrin flicked a drop of water at her nose. Sputtering in annoyance, the earth Guardian looked around at her siblings.

"Has anyone spoken to Ymir to ask him why he hasn't returned to his own lands as he should?" she asked.

"I can't go near him," Lirrin said with a shudder. "I'd be trapped in a block of ice for sure."

Vrast snorted flame. "It's impossible."

"I'd rather not set foot on the ground," Weryn said. "Isn't this more your sort of thing, Gael?"

"Very well," Gael said. "I will talk with Ymir. Perhaps he will see reason."

*~*

Ymir sat on the edge of one of his very best ice slides, watching the sun glitter on the surrounding snow. He swung his feet and hummed to himself. Maybe today someone would come and play with him.

"Little brother."

Ymir looked up into the face of his sister Gael. "Are you here to play with me? I made snow forts."

Gael knelt in the snow so they were at eye level. "It's nearly summer, little brother. Time for you to go home so the lands can warm up again."

"But I want to play. No one will play with me. The mortals don't want to be friends," Ymir said.

"You're lonely," Gael said. "I'm sorry. But you can't stay here, Ymir. It can't be winter forever, or the mortals will die. They are fragile creatures, and the balance has to be kept."

"If I go home, I'll be alone," Ymir said, sniffling. Snow began to fall. "I want them to like me. The way they like you. They play with you."

Gael took Ymir's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Let's play a game, and then we'll talk about this some more. How's that?"

They slid down Ymir's slides and threw snowballs at each other and made snowmen and went ice skating, and when the sun disappeared behind the horizon Gael had a plan. She whispered it in Ymir's ear, and his face lit up.

*~*

The next day, when the mortals woke up, the ice had melted away. Ymir was nowhere to be seen. Those who ventured near the domain of ice claimed to hear strange noises echoing across the snow. They waited in terror for a renewed onslaught of winter chill, but none came. Summer went on as usual, followed by a beautiful autumn.

Winter came peacefully, with soft snows and delicate frost. And on the shortest day of the year, when darkness came earliest and stayed longest, the mortals built up their fires and went to bed early. They prayed that the strange, bitter cold of the year before would not return.

They did not hear the soft flutter of wings in the night.

Next morning, to their surprise, piles of brightly wrapped packages sat in front of their doors. When these were opened, it was found that they contained lovely presents. There were toys for the children and more practical gifts for the adults. And out in the open spaces, elaborate snow castles and slides dotted the icy landscape.

Ymir and Gael stood on a hilltop near one of the larger towns, watching as the mortals woke up and found the gifts Ymir had made for them. Happy laughter filled the air, bringing smiles to the Guardians' faces.

"This was a good plan, big sister. The mortals like me now," Ymir said. "Can we do it again next year?"

*~*

"And so it is said that every year Ymir makes his gifts, and every year he asks the banshees for help delivering them. That is why we leave our doors unlocked on the longest night of the year, so that Ymir can come in and visit us if he chooses. And in honor of his kindness and generosity, we give each other gifts as well, to bring cheer during the darkest time. This tale is my gift to you."

Niamh the shanachie looked around at the crowd of young selkies that sat at her feet. The youngest were already dozing in a pile of contented, well-fed little bodies. The older children weren't far behind. A squeaky snore seemed loud in the sudden silence of the hut.

Outside, waves crashed against the shore and lapped the docks. It was good to be home with her people for this celebration. The shanachie settled down on a pile of furs by the crackling fire and went to sleep.