Winter's Daughter
It was the middle of the night and the western world lay silently sleeping. Except for Rydia—who stared, sitting up from the bed she shared with Edge, at the snow that had begun to fall sometime while she had been asleep. She shivered as the blankets fell to her lap. It seemed that no matter how many robes she wore, the cold of winter's chill still stole her breath away.
The room itself was balmy. Eblan did not waste coin on fuel for fires when a good blanket could suffice, and Rydia wrapped a few more around her shoulders as she snuck out of bed and padded to the sliding door that led outside.
The wooden frame clacked shut behind her, and Rydia took a few hesitant steps into the quiet night.
She closed her eyes and listened.
Each snowflake fell to the ground with the grace of a feather, softly coming to rest. It reminded her of rain heard from far away, like gentle echoes of long ago raindrops.
The awning of the great house sheltered her as she crept closer to the edge of the wooden porch. The planks beneath her creaked with age, as if to ask what she was doing awake at this hour while she gazed into a garden of carefully kept stones.
This was her first winter in the north—in the mountains—in the home where Edge had spent his childhood. She couldn't see the mountains on this dark night, but she knew their winds had scooped up the clouds and sent them here.
The light from lanterns beyond the house's walls glowed like beacons against the swirling, gentle snowfall; and Rydia hugged her arms closer to her waist as she absorbed the essence of the place.
There was a certain scent to the air, a subtle aroma of wood smoke, and a crisp tang of cold that she felt she could taste as well as smell. It was just the right kind of night for magic.
Summoning had become an act as simple as breathing, and Rydia barely felt the invisible tether she'd pulled upon to bring an Eidolon into the human realm.
Shiva stood silently beside her in the full regalia of winter; her skin shimmering like diamonds in the celestial sky.
The command was simple, as simple as child's play.
Dance.
The Eidolon of all that was Winter alighted on the largest of the stones in the garden. The snow twirled around her out of deference and obeyed her outstretched hand, snowflakes marching into line as their enchantress commanded. Shiva wove spirals out of the air, hopping from one stone to the next with the snow attending to her like trailing ribbons from elegant sleeves.
Arms played the air like an instrument until every snowflake in the garden hung suspended in space—time, frozen.
Shiva's joy was not complete until she had taken her summoner by the hand and drawn her also into the night.
Blankets slipped to the ground, and despite the cold air, Rydia no longer felt the bite of it.
Shiva spun her in circles, kicking up dervishes and eddies of icy powder. Everything seemed to slow down, as if the world had paused for a moment and forgotten how to turn. Rydia smiled as she threw back her head and felt the flakes melt onto her skin and catch on her eyelashes.
Who knew the magic of a simple snowfall as well as the goddess beside her?
But almost as soon as she'd been swept into the garden, she was spun out of it again, into the warm arms of someone who had been watching all along.
Edge kissed her cold nose and rubbed numb shoulders as she helplessly grinned, her breath coming out as puffs of white.
She wondered if he'd pull her inside, bury her under a pile of blankets and keep her there till morning. Instead, he spun her around again, snaking his arms around her waist and gently resting his chin upon her hair; content to watch the snow as it fell—content to share with her the magic of the night.