The Fortress Breathes Again

For a couple weeks now Akari had only known the fortress as a place of weary soldiers, gray walls, and silence broken by drills or bells. But now, the courtyards and streets bustled with happiness and energy, a current of joy running through every stone. Children darted between stalls with blue-orange ribbons streaming from their hands, apprentices strung engraved copper charms across doorways, and cooks ladled steaming stews that filled the air with the warmth of spice. Lanterns carved from ice and painted with fire-colored dyes flickered in the early dusk, a marriage of flame and frost that made the fortress glow.

What struck Akari most was how everyone worked together - soldiers, artisans, priests, and even the nobles. A fortress once grim and silent now thrummed with laughter, chatter, and the ring of hammers. The Frostfire Festival was not just an event - it was a weaving of every hand and heart into one.

At the center of it all stood Countess Odrienne, her chilly personality replaced by brisk energy. Wrapped in a mantle of silver-threaded wool, she directed servants and craftsmen with surprising warmth. “No, no, the archway must hold the lanterns higher. Yes, like that! And hurry, before the ice softens.” Her voice carried sharp authority, but her eyes shone with something like excitement.

Beside her walked High Priestess Serena, a bun of golden braids gleaming beneath her white hood. Though more than a decade younger than Odrienne, she matched her step for step, trading quiet remarks and occasional laughter as if they were sisters rather than lady and priestess. Watching them confide in one another, Akari felt a flicker of wonder. Two women from such different paths, bound together by faith and duty, moving as one.

Akari hovered at Noel’s side as they passed, her glow reflecting off banners stitched with red and white threads. People no longer stopped to gape at her as they once did. Their stares had softened into polite curiosity, or none at all. Only the children still tugged at sleeves to whisper and point, wide-eyed at the little flame that spoke and laughed. Akari didn’t mind - it was better than being treated like some sacred relic.

“This is…” Akari spun in the air, taking it all in. “The liveliest I’ve ever seen this place!”

“It should be,” Noel said, voice steady. “It’s the Frostfire Festival. Once every year, when the cold is deepest in the last month before the new year, we honor both Vael-Arin and Thaurach.”

“The flame and the frost?”

Noel nodded. “Memory and grief. Two halves of what keeps us human. We say farewell to Thaurach and welcome Vael-Arin.” His fingers tightened around the wand in his pocket that Mira had given him the day before. “Everyone receives a token from the temple in the weeks leading up to the festival. The people bury it in the snow for a full month, so our prayers and feelings sink deep. Then, during the night Vigil, all tokens are burned in the bonfire. Fire carries our memories upward, while the snow takes our grief downward. It reminds us that both remain with us.”

Akari fell quiet. The thought of burning something to release grief… it was beautiful, but it ached too.

Ahead, Mira appeared, rolling her sleeves and dusting wood shavings off her apron. Despite the soot on her cheek, her grin carried a rare spark of excitement. It was the first time Akari saw the artisan happier than she's ever seen.

“About time you two showed up,” she called. “The whole fortress is working, even the stuffy lords are out of their chambers! I’m half tempted to hammer some nails into the gates myself, just to join in.”

“You sound cheerful,” Noel remarked.

Mira shrugged. “Of course. It’s the first Frostfire since last year’s battle. Took months just to recover enough food and supplies. For once, people aren’t whispering about starving or monsters outside the walls. Let them laugh a little, let them dance - better than drowning sorrows in despair.” Her eyes softened. “The winters have been harsher every year since five years ago. And last year…” She trailed off, expression briefly shadowed. “Well. Tomorrow we remember them. All of them.”

Akari flickered, sensing the unspoken weight.

Mira quickly forced a smile back. “Besides, I have to admit, even I am looking forward to it. A festival means good food, good mood, and good drinks!”

Her gaze darted to Noel, and her grin turned sly. “Although speaking of this festival - remember the year you got lost? Barely seven winters old, and crying your lungs out. Your mother found you instantly and whisked you to her side when the master apologized for losing you.”

Noel stiffened, his smile tight. “I remember.”

Akari tilted her flame toward him curiously, but he gave nothing more. Mira, sensing the mood, excused herself back to the workers, leaving the two of them standing amid the festival clamor.

For a long moment as the two strolled during their patrol, Noel was silent. Finally, he said quietly, “My mother is everything I’m not. Strong. Brilliant. Beloved everywhere. She never failed at anything.” He swallowed hard. “I have not seen her face except for formal functions since I was ten. When I was exiled, the only thing I ever received was your lamp. Given to me through her maid, not from her own hand.”

Akari’s flame quivered with sparks. “Well, at least it led me to you! Or you to me. Whichever one makes more sense.”

“True. We would have never met."

The quick stomp of footsteps pulled them back. Seren strode up, sharp-eyed and commanding even in festival light. “Noel. Enough moping and having your little flame comfort you. We need your help with the final preparations. The Vigil can’t run itself.”

Noel straightened, his bitterness sealed behind a mask. “Yes, sir.”

Seren’s gaze flicked to Akari. “As for you, little flame, spend the afternoon with Barkley. Spirits should spend time becoming friends.”

Before Akari could argue, a booming voice echoed. “That’s right! Come along, little flame!” Barkley, in all his confident glory, trotted forward, tail sweeping the snow. His grin was wide as he gestured with his head. Even the wolf was swept up in the festive atmosphere. “Temple’s this way.”

Akari darted uncertainly after him, looking back once to see Noel swallowed by the crowd at Seren’s side.

As they walked through the lantern-lit streets, Barkley’s tone grew softer, curious. “Tell me, flame. You’ve spoken of another world, haven’t you? A world without spirits?”

Akari blinked, startled. “You… want to know about Earth?”

The wolf spirit gave a thoughtful rumble. “Yes. I’ve seen many winters, many flames like yours. But never another world. If you carry memories of such a place, then share them. What was it like?”

Akari hesitated. Barkley wasn't interested in her as a spirit, but as… Akari. She drifted beside him, her flame warming the snow-crisp air, and began to speak.

The temple’s silhouette rose ahead, wreathed in firelight and frost, where priests prepared tokens and wood for the night’s Vigil. And as Barkley listened with keen interest, Akari felt her two lives - Earth and this world - beginning to weave together in ways she hadn’t expected.