Winter's Giving (one shot)
Give your favorite pirate a present
High up in the castle room bestowed upon him, Mathew silently sits on his bed, reflecting. It’s the first winter of the war, and even with the fighting going on, there are many beings looking to have some sort of a semi-normal holiday celebration. Although, Mathew is still finding it hard to get into a festive spirit.
The Feast of Thanks is a wizard tradition, the likes of which has spurred the royal castle of Korodon into a frenzy in preparation. He remembers how long his mother would spend cooking various meals for dinner, filling their cabin with all sorts of rich smells that would make his mouth water until it ran dry. As Anya got older, she would help prepare dinner as well. If the war never happened, maybe Mathew would have gotten roped in to it too.
But there’s another celebration as well, one that only he seems to know about. Winter’s Giving, started by the merchant sailors of old, bringing gifts home from different islands in a show of thanks and love towards their families and close friends. Hunting for the best present from the Gardall market each year was a fun challenge. And then opening all of the gifts after dinner…
A tinge of warm nostalgia fills his chest, which is quickly crushed by a strong sorrow. Ingum always loved his presents, no matter what they were. His shouts of joy ring in Mathew’s ears as the rest of his family laughs along. And the Feast is not being prepared by his mother this year. His nose tingles with all the smells he can remember, that would linger around her long after the Feast concluded.
He and Anya already spoke about Winter’s Giving. She’s still not stable enough to go through with such a tradition this year. Too many memories she’s not ready to dredge up again yet. Still, he can’t help but wonder what gift he would have gotten her this year if they were to exchange.
Suddenly, there’s a soft knock on his door.
With a sigh, Mathew slides off his bed and stands. It’s probably Anya. He wouldn’t be surprised if it’s her, or maybe even Samuel.
He opens the door and finds himself staring at Isaac instead. Both of his hands are hidden behind his back, and he’s got a small smile across his lips.
“Hello…” Mathew mutters.
Isaac’s smile strains ever so slightly. “I bet you were expecting your sister.”
“What do you want?”
The Illusionist blows a sigh through his nose and replies, “As Asandra once gave us the gift of Light,” he pauses, bringing out a small ribbon-tied box from behind his back, “I’d like to give you a little gift of my own.”
Mathew stares at the box with a small frown, unsure what to think of it.
“Happy Winter’s Giving,” Isaac concludes.
“I thought you were a wizard,” Mathew blurts.
“This is my first time hearing about their Feast of Thanks,” Isaac admits. “We’ve always celebrated Winter’s Giving. Mostly because of the Guardian’s, of course.” He shakes the box ever so slightly, careful not to rustle whatever is inside. “Well?”
Mathew reaches for the box, but hesitates. Should he accept such a gift without anything to give in return?
“I can’t-”
Isaac shoves the box into his frozen hands anyways. “Stop making this so hard, Mathew. Just open it.”
The box isn’t terribly heavy. Giving it a little shake, he can hear something clattering around inside. Stones, he surmises, rubbing against each other. Smooth. Small.
He pulls off the ribbon and raises the lid. Inside of the small box is a smaller bag, made of leather with a golden draw string. He sets the box on the floor and retrieves the bag from within.
Opening the bag, he finds himself staring at a variety of different shells and bright blue-white stones. As if on cue, the strong smell of ocean salt hits his nose.
“These are from Gardall…” he breathes in surprise. He takes out a small pink shell shard and stares at it, rubbing his thumb over its smooth surface.
“I thought you’d like something from home,” Isaac nods.
“Where did you get these from?”
“From a refugee in Ica. He didn’t want them anymore, so I thought I’d give them to you.”
Mathew takes out one of the stones and inspects it. The blue-white pebble appears to be painted, but it’s splatter pattern is actually natural for the small ocean object. His father called them Starstones, which glow in the water at night to create little stars underwater.
Tears spring to his eyes. Ingum loved to hoard them. He kept a small pile of them under his bed. He stuck some of them together and used the clump as a sort of night light, which he always kept on his nightstand. There were times Mathew would take his younger brother down to the ocean and they’d watch it light up as the night slowly set in.
“I’m sorry if I opened… something,” Isaac speaks, snapping Mathew out of his thoughts. The Illusionist offers him a sympathetic look. “I didn’t mean to.”
Mathew shakes his head. “It’s fine.” He then holds out the Starstone to Isaac. “Happy Winter’s Giving, mate.”
Isaac accepts the stone wordlessly.
“My brother loved them,” Mathew muses. “You should see the ocean light up with them. It’s… magical.”
“I’m sure it’s quite a sight,” Isaac nods.
“Thank you. I was wondering if I would ever get to do this again.”
“You and Anya weren’t going to celebrate?”
Mathew shakes his head. “She said she’s not ready for that this year. You know her state.”
“Understandable.”
“But… this did make me feel better,” Mathew says with a small smile. “Usually we did the gifts after dinner.”
“We did it before we ate. So, you did both?”
“My mother was a wizard, and my father is an ex-sailor.”
“What’s the Feast even about?”
“I believe it was for thanking Korodon for His gift of magic bestowed on the First Wizards.”
“So which came first? Light or Shadow?”
The two share a short laugh.
“Still, thanks, mate,” Mathew says.
“Of course,” Isaac replies. “Looking forward to dinner.”
“Aye. So am I.”