‘Lights upon the Tree’ by Fox Miller

Thawfay should have frozen solid a long time ago. Just imagine it; a village-sized ice sculpture, all blue and white and lifeless. Yet there, in the callous North, it stood like a warm campfire on a cloudless night. There were all sorts of geographical theories, but few outsiders knew the truth. Every five years, on the fifteenth of December, the townspeople partook in a tradition. They called it The Bantling Parade.

Julian was eating breakfast when the lodge around him disappeared. Something was covering his eyes. Unsurprised, he carefully put down the meagre remainder of toast and turned his gaze towards an invisible ceiling. His lips made a slight movement as if calculating something before he cleared his throat.

‘Light brown trousers… over the silvery jumper… and the cream coat.’ He said.

‘And what hat am I wearing?’ Aria asked, not taking her hands away from his face.

There was a long pause. ‘Taking your hat off is the first thing you do when coming through the door.’ He said with a slight smile.

Light was released back into Julian’s world, revealing the snowy spruces of Thawfay behind a thick pane of glass. Aria lowered her hands with an exaggerated sigh.

It was something she found so irritating about him. Julian would always work people out in that way of his. He was the only person she couldn’t ever surprise. Tonight would be different, however.

‘Am I so predictable?’ She asked, wrapping her hands around his chest.

‘On the contrary.’ He observed. ‘You’ve been acting more unusual than …’

‘Usual?’ She suggested.

‘First, you talk about this parade I haven’t seen a single notice for.’ He continued. ‘Then you’ve also been acting… private since we left. Why did you leave before I woke up?’

‘I wanted to be alone for a while.’ She answered vaguely.

‘Should I ask?’

‘You’d just figure it out anyway!’ She huffed. ‘I’ll tell you everything after tonight. I promise.’

Julian nodded. ‘We’ll be meeting your parents soon, won’t we?’ He asked, knowing she’d prefer to change the subject.

‘I’m all ready to go.’ She said with mock accusation.

‘And I’m still getting over jet lag.’ He sighed, standing up with a stretch.

As Julian took his plate to the kitchen, Aria noticed something outside. A very faint amber glow traversed the nearest tree. It wasn’t quite a squirrel, nor was it any kind of insect.

It was an old friend from her childhood, a guardian of home.

Just before midnight, the people of Thawfay walked in procession through their forest of spruces. Some carried antique lanterns, while others held clunky torches or modern phones. Aria and Julian were near the front.

She noticed how calm he was. He had that soothing expression that could be an anchor in a tsunami, stability in times of chaos. She almost felt bad for not telling him what would happen. Would he even believe her if he didn’t see it for himself? He really thought there was some scientific reason for Thawfay’s modest prosperity, didn’t he?

Eventually, they made their way to an ancient spruce tree, far larger than its brethren. Its bark was like a dark lake of shattered ice behind the tendrils of coarse branches.

It was a Christmas tree; draped with glittering baubles. Brilliant reds, greens, oranges and blues slightly shifted in the breeze.

‘We call it the Mother Tree.’ She said.

As Aria pulled him through the gathering crowd, Julian noticed the oddities.

There was no crowning star or angel nor any finicky Christmas lights. The baubles themselves glowed and moved. There was something inside them wanting to break free.

‘This is our secret.’ Aria whispered. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you.’

A red bauble began to crack and split in front of them. A tiny, slender hand burst through the opening. It was followed by a comparatively large head, though the face was hardly visible behind a pair of bulbous, obsidian eyes. Magnificent wings unfurled as the rest of its spindly body emerged. After blinking a few times, the creature drifted into the sky, taking the red glow along with it.

‘They are our guardians.’ She said, staring after the light.

More baubles broke apart as a myriad of these ethereal guardians ascended into the night.

‘All they ask is to be witnessed at their birth and remembered.’

There were hundreds of them now, tracing the sky in stars of ruby, emerald, amber and sapphire, sparkling with their wing beats.

She lifted her head from his shoulder.

‘Are you going to ask if any of this is real?’

‘I remember waking up this morning, so this can’t be a dream.’ Julian replied candidly.

‘You simply just believe all of this?’ She burst out, disrupting the low hum of flapping wings.

‘I’m looking at it, aren’t I?’ He said, taken aback.

She chuckled quietly. ‘I really thought I’d have you this time.’

He held her hand in his. ‘Aria, you always have me. Just not in the way you ever expect.’

As they both looked up at the spectacular lights, Aria’s head slowly came to rest upon his shoulder again.

‘Is this all that’s troubled you?’ Julian asked.

‘No.’ She professed. ‘Admittedly, I believe something within me always expected your …’

‘Unanticipated response?’ He suggested.

She nodded with a smile.

Eventually, the last lights began drifting apart over Thawfay.

‘I want them to see this next time it happens.’ Aria breathed.

‘Who do you mean?’ Julian asked.

She then whispered something into his ear that went unheard by everyone around them. He tore his eyes away from the sky and looked her in the eyes. She’d never seen him so caught off guard before; so astonished.

Beneath the Mother Tree, Julian realised that sometime … sometime in the near future, he’d be a father.

Edited by FalWriting