Wishful Greetings, 

Thy presence has been requested at the Holly Cathedral on the longest night of the year to receive thine blessing from the Evening Star during the Ceremony of Blessings.  

Enclosed within this letter is a list of requirements that must be completed before the Ceremony of Blessings. The train ticket provided will accommodate thee from the nearest train station to the Festive Inn residing in Yuleville. Further instructions await thee in thy chamber. Failure to attend in a timely manner will overturn thy right to the gift. 

Until then, rejoice and may good fortune find thee. 

Festive Cheers, 

The Head Merrys 

For centuries, boys all over the countryside who had been exposed to magic at a very young age would wake up with a similar letter at their front doors. When they saw the wax seal of the Merry Gentlemen, their eyes sparkled, and they would rush to their parents to hear what the letter said to them. Smiles adorned the parents’ faces as they told their sons of the bright future awaiting them. 

Instead of celebrating, the families would focus on preparing their sons for this wonderful gift that would be bestowed upon them. Once their sons were packed and they had said their farewells, their sons would depart for Yuleville. When they arrived, a selection of already-appointed Merry Gentlemen would lead them to the Festive Inn to prepare for the days ahead of them. 

After the first night in Yuleville, the Festival of Winter Solstice would reign, entertaining them on the main street until the time of Dedication. After eight days of Dedication, it was time for the boys to receive their gift, and the Ceremony of Blessings would commence. With the Evening Star shining brightly above, a gift was bestowed upon each boy in a shaft of golden light. The city would rejoice, and the Evening Star’s gift would thrive within these gentlemen for the length of a thousand years.  

Yet with each coming year, the festival became less joyous than the last. Fewer blessings were received, and the number of Merry Gentlemen in the world dwindled every month. With only a dozen Merry Gentlemen left, it seemed to the people that the blessings were vanishing. The only ones who knew better were the Council and the Revolution.  

After ten years, Snow couldn’t believe they were still holding quarterly meetings to discuss plans of actions between the two forces. He thought he had been very clear about where he stood. While he was only the messenger for the Revolution, it still felt like a knife to the heart each time he walked into the Foyer of the Estate to see its once warming welcome diminished. This time the knife dug a little deeper with the letter tucked away in his cloak’s pocket. During his visits to the Estate, Snow had made it routine to take the long way to the Dining Hall and leave a letter at the door of a Merry he had grown to love: Noel Chevalier, the Merry of Joy.  

Before the Estate had split in two, Snow would visit the library once a week and check out the book Noel left his letter in. Or rather, the book with a letter addressed under the anonymous name he knew Noel by: Wick. Snow would annotate the book and leave a letter for Noel before checking it back into the library. Then he would wait for Noel to respond in the book Snow had chosen before returning to check it out. Though that was years ago. 

Tonight, Snow wasn’t going to follow his routine. Instead, he hoped tonight would be the night he could confess to Noel. While Noel had accepted his proposal, they had remained anonymous to one another through letters out of fear of what the Council would do to them if their relationship was exposed. Snow was hopeful Noel would leave with him to the safety of the Revolution if he confessed, and they could live the life they always wanted. However, Snow would have to get through the meeting first.   

Snow entered the Dining Hall and sat at the end of the long table far too big for the eleven men present. The Council was already entertaining themselves with conversation, ignoring his very presence. He wasn’t at all surprised to hear they had started the meeting without him. 

“Will the lack of festivities concern the people?” A council member asked. 

“Certainly not. Not when they have been made to believe otherwise.” 

Snow bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the Merry pull a goblet of wine to his lips. Merry Finch, the Merry of belief. If it weren’t for Merry Finch’s age and his dwindling gift, he would have been the strongest in the room. Physical gifts such as fire and snow could cause severe damage, but there was nothing that could bring down a man faster than his mental state.  

Snow’s attention to the conversation slowly drained as the metal hand travelled around the grandfather clock. He could only think of seeing Noel. He wondered how much Noel had changed. The last and first time Snow had seen him felt like an awfully long time ago, but it had only been three years. Snow hadn’t meant to run into him. He had been walking through the courtyard, paying little attention to the conversation his friends were having. Then the moment he looked up, he noticed a Merry sitting on a bench with perfectly curled golden hair. A smile hinted on the corner of his lips and when Snow looked down, he noticed the reason for the Merry’s smile. It was Snow’s coffee-stained letter with his cream-coloured seal hanging onto the edge of the paper. He didn’t have enough time to linger and enjoy the first sight of his love. His dear Wick. Snow could have confessed then, but he didn’t want to expose Noel to the Council. Not after everything the Council had put him through.  

“May we entertain the thought of the original proposal?” 

Snow snapped out of his thoughts and glared at the Council. “Excuse me?” 

The room fell silent as some of the Council glared blazing embers into Snow’s soul, and others looked down at their laps in shame. Snow breathed slowly to keep his temper at bay when he noticed tendrils of frost creeping along his cuffs. The cuffs were supposed to retain his powers per the Council’s request, but Snow wasn’t sure if they had ever tested them on a Merry like him. 

“Doth thou protest?” Merry Finch asked. 

The cuffs creaked as they expanded, and ice climbed on the heels of Snow’s chair. “I would not be here if I didn’t.” 

“May tonight be different—” 

“Tonight will not, nor will it ever be.” Snow glared into the eyes of the Merry at the head of the table. “Wasn’t that apart of the agreement, Merry Byers?” 

The Council turned to Merry Byers, but his eyes were unmoving. Merry Byers simply chuckled to himself and set his goblet down. “Hast thou forgotten the boundaries of thy wicked tongue?” 

“These meetings are not for your entertainment.” 

“Nor are they for thee. Sit and be obedient.” 

“I will not be obedient to those in which are vile unto their own!” The cuffs shattered from Snow’s wrist when he slammed his hands on the table and ice encrusted half of the table. “He is innocent!” 

“He will be until we are finished with him.” 

“You said you would not dare touch him if I agreed to meet you here!” 

“Merry Snow! Thou will cease these insanities at once!” 

Snow gritted his teeth as Merry Byers stood from his chair. Ice crept along Snow’s heels and along the legs of the table. His fingers clawed into the ice to keep himself from speaking further. He knew he could take Merry Byers on his own, but that was only if Merry Byers didn’t use his gift to slip into the shadows. 

“I would not forget what we’ve discussed regarding the defects in thy nature,” Merry Byers said. 

Ice crawled along the ledge of the table as silence stiffened the room. Perhaps Merry Byers was right but, Snow would never utter the plans Merry Byers had proposed. The plans they had were more wicked than the devil himself. Even as he locked his eyes on Merry Byers, he could tell there was nothing he could say to change their ways. He could only try to stop them. 

Without a second thought, Snow stormed out of the Dining Hall into the corridors of the Estate. Frost ran along the carpet runners, and the wind whistled through the cracks of the windows. The double doors of the Dining Hall slammed shut, and thick ice encased the bottom. He could hear the Council banging against the Dining Hall’s doors as he continued down the corridor.  

Snow was almost to the end of the corridor when the doors slammed against the floor. He threw up his hands and shards of ice burst from the floor. He could hear them shouting at one another as they tried to navigate the shards. He was mere steps away from the end of the corridor when a firm grip on his wrist jerked him around, and Merry Byers’ eyes glared into his.  

“Shall I remind thee the purpose of thy presence here today?” 

Snow glanced towards the Merry Gentlemen behind Merry Byers. One of the Merry Gentlemen used his flames to melt the shards while the others continued to bicker. He wasn’t sure how much time he would have until they reached him. 

“It would be a pity if he were to see damage to his safe haven.” 

Snow glared at Merry Byers. His words made him feel sick at the very thought that the Estate could be considered a safe haven. If Noel knew of the blood within the walls, Snow was certain Noel would leave just like the Revolution had.  

Snow kept his cold glaze on him as he watched Merry Byers look at his arm in terror. Thick spikes crept along Merry Byers’ arm, and he frantically tried to pull away from Snow’s wrist. Snow snapped his fingers, and a piercing wind burst the window into shards of glass. He jerked his wrist away from Merry Byers’ grip, and the winds swept Merry Byers into a whirlwind of glass. 

“Thy blazen filth!” Merry Byers shouted as shards of glass tore at his clothing.  

The wind dragged the Council down the hall, leaving them to claw at every surface for something to hold onto. Snow turned towards the double doors and thrust his hands through the air. A large surge of blue ice burst the doors open, and a gust of snow ran into the corridor. He walked past the splintered doors covered in ice and into the courtyard of the Estate.  

His heels clicked on the cobblestone in a strict rhythm as dark clouds swirled above the Estate. Frost ran along the hems of his clothing, and ice encrusted the walls as he passed. His rhythmic steps continued throughout the corridors as he grew close to the west side of the Estate. 

“Merry Snow?” 

Snow halted, the winds wavering as the familiar voice reached his ears. His cloak draped around him, hiding him in a pillar of darkness as he waited for the voice to speak again. The voice had been so soft he hadn’t been able to identify who it belonged to, but if it was who he hoped it was, running would be the last thing he’d want to do. 

“Have thee forgotten what tiding of comfort joy can bring?” 

Noel. 

Snow turned to him and there, standing at the start of the corridor, was perfection within the chaos of the storm. His olive-green eyes captivated him with his golden curls strategically placed. There was nothing cold about him with a gentle blush on his cheeks. Even with the whistling blizzard around them, the winds refused to tug at his cream-coloured cloak. Not even the flame upon the tip of his chamberstick flickered.  

“The world wishes nothing of it,” Snow replied.  

“What, in thou eye, defines the world?” Noel asked. 

Snow could hardly find the words to respond. Noel was the one who defined his world, yet Noel had not the finest clue. Snow could gather the words and confess his identity to him, but he did not have the strength to do it. The Council could be around the corner and hear. If he couldn’t grab Noel in time, there was no telling what the Council would do to either of them. 

“What defines the world is power in which we do not have,” Snow said through gritted teeth. 

“Yet thee reign a storm over the innocent?” 

Snow inhaled, his breath seeping into his tense frame, “Has your flame never experienced the winds?” 

He didn’t need a response to know. Noel had a hidden life. A life where he did not have to experience the division of the Estate. He wasn’t even aware the Estate was split. Snow wished to tell him so he could take Noel with him, but there was not enough time to explain it all. 

A soft smile peaked on Noel’s lips, “The joy I hold shall not be smothered by those who seek the worst of the world and thyselves.” 

As the winds grew stronger, Noel’s statement stayed true. The flame did not wither in the slightest. Snow stood before him, waiting for the flame to go out, but it stubbornly stayed alight.  

“Why now do you appear?” Snow asked. The question flooded his mind as if Noel was to blame for his absence, but all he had to blame was himself. He could have introduced himself the day he first saw him. He could have confessed in a letter. He could confess even now regardless of the risk, but he couldn’t pull the words together enough to be coherent. 

“Why now flee at my first sight of thee? Have thou lost all reason to stay?” Noel asked with his head cocked to the side. 

Snow’s brows furrowed in frustration. “Do you always speak in questions?” 

“Not usually.” Noel stepped towards Snow, “Doth thou recall what a Merry is to say?” 

Snow gritted his teeth, “Nothing I dismay will change their wickedness.” 

“Dismay nothing of thee,” Noel corrected. “Let nothing steal thy joy. Joy cannot be gifted. It is an experience.” 

“If you believe that there is truth in joy...” Snow took one long glance at Noel as he collected his words. “Don’t let the wicked rule what is righteous.” 

Snow pulled his cloak around himself and stormed through the arch at the end of the corridor. Noel bolted towards him, nearly losing his grip on his chamberstick.  

“But Merry Snow, wait!” Noel passed through the archway and stumbled into the snow outside. Layers of snow covered the expanse of the lawn with no footprints to be found. Snow had vanished into the storm.