The cold wind swept across the pristine white mountains, stirring up flurries of icy snow.
Above, thick layers of clouds obscured the sun, casting a pall over the landscape. In this gloomy weather, the chilling snowflakes danced delicately in the air.
In the distant woods, the once boisterous birds had fallen silent, retreating into their snug nests to escape the biting wind.
The river that meandered through the town, typically babbling cheerfully, had succumbed to the freeze, its surface now a solid sheet of ice upon which the town's children played joyfully.
The frigid air stung the children's cheeks, rendering them rosy, yet not a single child feared the bitter cold. They laughed merrily, their joyous sounds punctuating the icy landscape as the wind howled like a relentless blade.
The atmosphere in the town was festive and vibrant; even the most penetrating chill could not diminish the warmth of smiles adorning the faces of its inhabitants.
Tonight marked the holy Night of the Goddess.
Legend has it that on the third day after the creation of the heavens and earth, the Goddess of Creation conceived the idea of crafting a race in her own likeness, which led to the birth of humanity on the continent of Valoran.
That fateful night, when the Goddess first envisioned humanity, is celebrated as the Night of the Goddess.
According to the continent's calendar, the Night of the Goddess occurs once every three years, a cherished festival that has been passed down through countless generations in human society across Valoran. Aside from the scarce half-beasts and yordles, all nations regard this night as the most significant of celebrations.
On the Night of the Goddess, those who wander far from home are compelled to return and reunite with their families. Friends and relatives often gather to exchange blessings, erecting three wooden sticks of equal length in their yards, symbolizing their respect and gratitude to the lunar deities residing in the three moons, thanking them for guiding travelers through the night by illuminating their paths.
People then prepare a round bread, representing the sun, using flour made from golden wheat grains mixed with delectable strawberry or berry jam. Consuming this delightful food signifies that they have swallowed all the misfortunes of the coming year, leaving only good fortune behind, ensuring bountiful rains for the farmers and prosperity for the noble's lands.
While merchants in the streets sell a delicacy known as "Acaro" during the Night of the Goddess, townsfolk generally prefer to make it themselves.
Typically, the Acaro sold by merchants is far more exquisite than what the locals prepare, prompting some families to purchase beautifully crafted Acaro to gift to friends and family, expressing their goodwill and blessings.
In a shabby courtyard, a young boy clad in a tattered, oversized cotton coat sat atop the roof of a small house, wielding a large iron hammer that felt painfully cold against his hands, as he diligently repaired a leak in the roof.
The biting wind lashed against his small frame, and the frigid temperatures made him shiver uncontrollably.
Clutching the icy hammer, the boy huddled his neck deep into the worn fabric of his coat, attempting to shield his skin from the relentless cold.
Little Lux stood nervously beneath a bare tree in the courtyard, anxiously watching her brother.
Dressed in a similarly tattered coat, Lux's garment was clearly too large for her; the hem nearly brushed her knees, accentuating her already slender frame and making her appear even smaller in her late mother's oversized coat.
"Brother, the wind is so strong outside; can we go back in, please?" Lux implored, her eyes filled with concern as she observed her brother perched high on the roof, the fierce wind whipping through the snow accumulating there.
On this bitterly cold winter day, amidst the seemingly endless expanse of white, the brother whom Lux usually viewed as a towering figure now seemed fragile, as if he could be toppled by the gusts at any moment.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!" With the cold iron hammer in hand, the boy shivered from the chill but managed to turn and offer a smile to Lux. "It's alright, Lux; I'm the strongest! A little breeze like this can't possibly defeat your formidable brother."
"But… but… brother…" Although she knew she shouldn't burden him, the little girl hesitated for a moment before speaking again, "But… Lux is really worried about you. What if you catch a cold from the wind? I would be so sad, brother. Can we wait until the wind dies down before fixing the roof?"
"Hahaha… don't worry, Lux! Your brother is destined to become a great general! How could a mere gust of wind bring me down?" he declared confidently, clutching the icy hammer. "I must fulfill my father's legacy! Besides, if we don't patch this hole before nightfall, the cold wind will seep into our room, and it will be freezing."
"But… but…" Lux, nervously clutching her hands, stammered "but" for a long while, ultimately failing to find a convincing reason to persuade her brother.
For a moment, the little girl felt disheartened.
"However, with the wind blowing so fiercely, you should hurry back inside, Lux. It would be troublesome if you caught a cold," the boy advised, carefully retrieving a wooden plank and some nails from a nearby basket. As he began to patch the roof, he called out over the wind and snow, "Dad said that girls are delicate; you should head back inside, and I'll finish this up quickly."
"Alright… fine," Lux replied reluctantly, her small hands stiff as she tugged at her coat. In the end, she abandoned her plan to stay with her brother, knowing that they had only a few copper coins left at home. If she caught a cold, her brother would have to beg for money to pay for her medicine.
Lux despised the townsfolk; everyone seemed to be cruel, bullying her and her brother, and she didn't want her brother to have to plead with them.
"So, brother, I'll go back inside now. You… be careful, okay?" The little girl, feeling conflicted and anxious, took a few steps back but couldn't help calling out to her brother's back. The boy waved his hand in acknowledgment without turning around.
Just then, a sharp gust of wind swept through, causing Lux, dressed in her tattered coat, to shiver involuntarily as she glanced back at the roof, unable to resist adding, "Brother, please hurry!"
"Mm-hmm, I know, I'll finish up quickly."
Hearing her brother's familiar voice from above, Lux's mind conjured an image of him nodding in acknowledgment, despite the barrier of the wooden roof. A warm feeling filled her chest, and she felt reassured as she stepped inside.
"Phew…"
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the boy opened his mouth and exhaled a plume of white vapor into the frigid air. As he carefully maintained his balance on the roof, he tightened the nails securing the wooden plank.
Hearing the sound of the door opening below, his thoughts began to drift.
Lux was growing up; her old clothes were becoming too small for her. It seemed he would need to find work soon to buy her some suitable second-hand garments before the weather warmed up. After all, he couldn't let his sister continue wearing clothes that were clearly ill-fitting.
Moreover, their food supplies were running low, and they had barely any money left. If he didn't come up with a plan soon, they would be in trouble. Perhaps after the Night of the Goddess tonight, he could ask Uncle Roal for help. Although he didn't know that both he and Lux had been falsely accused by Kayan, Uncle Roal was a kind man. If he pleaded with him, perhaps he would agree to let him return to work at the quarry.
"Thud!"
"Ouch!" The boy involuntarily let out a muffled groan.
Lost in thought, he had accidentally struck one of his fingers with the cold iron hammer. Although his fingers were nearly numb from the cold, the pain was not particularly sharp; however, the combination of numbness and a dull ache was more torturous than mere pain.
"Breathe…" He lifted his hand, blowing on the injured finger.
Fortunately, he hadn't injured the bone; the pain would subside soon.
He felt a sense of relief.
As he continued to blow on his injured finger, it gradually warmed up, and the blood that had pooled due to the cold began to circulate again. However, with the return of blood flow, the swelling pain surged through his finger.
Yet this ten-year-old boy gritted his teeth, refusing to utter a sound, fearful that his sister might hear his muffled groan of pain and worry.
Little did he know that amidst the howling winds of this frigid day, unless he cried out in agony, it would be nearly impossible for his sister inside to hear his subdued grumbles.
The wind remained cold and unrelenting.
The snow began to fall more heavily.
The gently falling snowflakes adorned the icy world with a delicate layer of white. Amidst the swirling snow, the rhythmic "thud! thud! thud!" of the boy's hammer resumed, echoing softly across the pristine white ground before fading quietly into the distant woods.