NB: while writing this chapter I was convinced that Education in the USA was similar to UK - which translates into two stages (primary school from 5 until 11, secondary school until 18). I discovered that this is not always the case, as sometimes there is a middle school stage. I apologize for this mistake - let's just pretend that public school in Burgess follows the Queen's law and that 12 is the age when transition between educational stages occurs! =)


Disclaimer: I do not own RotG characters; they originally belong to the amazing children books writer that is William Joyce.


I'll come to you in the longest, coldest night.

Aideen came home feeling dizzy from the cold and from the magical encounter with the enchanting spirit.

After nodding a greeting to her father, busy hitting the keys on his laptop at an astonishing speed, she scuttled along the stairs towards her bedroom. She narrowly avoided her mother waltzing out of the bathroom, not feeling up to answering all the custom questions about her free time, and how was her school day, and did she collect a nice A from last week English assignment?

Once safely in her haven, she inhaled her first deep breath in the day, and then exhaled a soft sigh.

Could anyone believe her amazing afternoon adventure, if she ever were inclined to share the tale?

Could she have faith in the startling blue her own very eyes had seen, the warm and deep voice her ears had heard, and the cold boyish hands she had touched?

After brooding over this dilemma for half an hour, she decided that she had enough reasons to both support or sink her belief in the day's events. Therefore, for the sake of consistency, she decided to take a chance at believing. In the worst case scenario, she would be disappointed at having imagined all the endeavor and more than a little impressed with her day-dreaming prowess.

Aideen sat at her desk, rummaging through the blank papers, the charcoal sketches and some unfinished colored outlines in search of a calendar.

I'll come to you in the longest, coldest night.

She eyed the tiny squares marking the transition of days into weeks and months. She was no detective, but the boring mandatory Natural Science class taught her that the longest day in the northern hemisphere was the Summer Solstice, while the longest night (or the shortest period of daylight) was the Winter Solstice. Since she was supposedly dealing with a winter spirit it made sense that his enigmatic sentence was referred to the least event.

She pouted.

It was weeks away.

Resigning herself to the unavoidable wait, she sulkily extracted a clean sheet of paper and began to think of her subject.

After a few reflective moments, a brilliant idea hit her.

Days passed, and with each of them, her furiously drawn tangles of charcoal shifted into more precise outlines.

The sketch came to life as a swirl of shapes, overall improved by careful shading, which finally blended into a proper chiaroscuro texture.

It was the beginning of December when she declared herself done with the principal sketch and proceeded to set up her easel and to select an appropriate canvas.

She wanted her commissioned painting to be large enough to be appreciated from a few steps away, but not big enough to be pretentious.

Finally, she settled on a rectangular canvas which was one-foot-three-quarter width and two feet height.

Stretching out her shoulders, whose muscles were sore from all the drawing, she suddenly remembered something very important.

Five days before the Winter Solstice she would turn twelve.


A/N: thanks for the reviews,follows and favorites. I love you all!