Eira followed her sister through the stalls and crowds. It was still early in the day, but vendors and curious bystanders were already busy. The Yule Festival was an old village tradition, and she couldn't contain her excitement. Eira loved this time of the year. There was magic in the snow and celebration, but also the old legends, plays, and late-night stories about the Wild Hunt and demons defeated by the festive light. The first time she was brought to the festival was not part of her memory as she was just a baby. Still, for eighteen years, she had been coming with her family, helping with their stall and enjoying the smell of fresh pines, hot chocolate, and mulled cider.

Her family believed in the old gods, in spirits and magic, something most of their neighbors frowned upon. But when the time came for the famous Yule Market, they would all line at their stall buying potions for luck, good health, and even love. Her sister Helen had developed a new business model, and their parents disapproved, but Eira found it funny. Now they were selling potions that could make one sick, as a prank, dizzy, or forget their name. All of these were innocent, but they were sometimes more popular than the love potions, which was surprising.

"This year, we will sell more of our potions than our parents would of theirs, and we will show them." Helen smiled at her litter sister, and Eira nodded with enthusiasm. This year was going to be unique.

The stalls were set, and the market opened. Helen and her parents were working hard, greeting people, and offering advice on what they needed to know. Eira just watched the crowds, one of her favorite activities during the Festival. Their village was in a curious spot, the crossroad between realms, not just two but many. Sometimes she thought it was all of them. The market brought together humans, elves, orcs, goblins, and sometimes creatures she could not even name. She had coins at home from so many different places, some made of gold, others silver, and metals she didn't know existed. She loved the Yule Festival as there was no other time of the year she could see such magic and wonder. Her eyes moved from face to face, looking at people's lips and imagining she could hear the words they were saying even if they were many feet away.

"Hey girl, help me out!" A tall woman waved at her. Eira looked around in panic. Someone else should help the lady, but there was no one around her, her family was busy with other customers, and she shyly approached the customer. "The love potion I got from here the last year was a phenomenon. I need three more."

Eira nodded. She could do that. She reached under the stall and grabbed the potions giving them to the elf lady. The woman waited, and only then the girl realized she needed to tell her how much it cost. Eira raised her hand and showed the number five three times.

"Did demons eat your tongue, girl?" The lady smiled but passed her the coins and walked away.

Did demons eat her tongue? She wished she knew the answer. Eira had learned to ignore people who made comments like that. However, it still hurt, especially today, when she wanted more than any other day to be able to speak and sing. It was a day of celebration, her favorite of the year, yet she couldn't even look at her sister and tell her much she liked being here with her. There were guests she wanted to greet and people she wanted to meet, but she couldn't even make them look at her without a voice. Eira sat back where she was a moment ago and continued observing the faces wondering if she would see the one she hoped for.

Some visitors came every year, and she recalled them since her childhood. They would stop and chat with her parents or sister and then nod at her, and Eira would respond with a smile. She looked around in anticipation, looking for more familiar faces. As she was absentmindedly listening to a conversation, she finally noticed him. The girl watched in the distance, praying to every god she could think about for the man she was observing to stop at their stall. It was her thing every year since she turned thirteen, and boys started to seem interesting. He seemed like he never aged, while through all these years she had grown and turned into a woman, he always looked the same. Eira liked imagining things like where he was from and his life. Sometimes he was a prince from distant real, but the following year a merchant of a pirate republic. The truth was, she knew nothing but his name - Vidar - and how she learned that was when one of his friends addressed him like that last year.

Eira continued watching, mesmerized as he moved from stall to stall, followed by his friends. His short blonde hair glistered with snow, and his green eyes reflected all the lights from the Festival grounds. She watched as his lips moved, and she tried to mimic the move as if the words would come out of her mouth, even if she had no voice. He purchased a cup of mulled mead from the stall next to them and suddenly, a silly idea crossed her mind. She knew the love potions worked, she had made some of them herself, if he was to fall in love with her through magic, she wouldn't need to talk to him, right?

There was no time to think. Vidar stopped at their stall and started talking to her father. Not even listening to the conversation, Eira reached for the first potion she could grab and walked around the counter, bumping straight into him.

It didn't work as she had planned. The hot mead spilled over their clothes. The hot liquid burned her hand and made her drop the potion into the white snow. The pink flask contrasted so sharply against the whiteness that no one in the universe probably didn't see what she had just dropped. Her sister saw it, her parents saw it, and most importantly, he also saw it.

Shame crawled up her face. She had no idea what to do and couldn't even apologize. Eira couldn't lift her eyes to face him or any bystanders, so she did the only thing she could - ran away as fast as her feet allowed. She bumped into people and tripped a few times, but she needed to be as far away as possible. How stupid of her to think she could do that, but for a second, she had imagined she was one of these heroines in the books that could sneak around and have the coordination of a cat.

Eira ran until she was out of breath, and the festival's sound was just a distant buzz. She was in the woods, far away from everyone, and finally alone. Her petite body collapsed on her hands and knees, the coldness biting through her clothes, but she didn't care. Nor did she care that the woods have always been a terrifying place during Yule, home of evil and darkness. Her shame and embarrassment were more significant than anything she could imagine. She saw a stone nearby and slowly walked to it, sitting there to avoid her clothes getting wet. Her eyes were fixed on the market in the distance, candles and fires lighting the landscape.

"You run fast for someone your size." The deep voice cut through her thoughts and the girl looked at him standing in front of her. She had not even heard him approach her.

Eira stared at the pale green eyes, the light of the festival still shining in them. She wished she could speak, apologize and ask for forgiveness for her stupidity. Maybe at that point, he would at least not think of her as some crazy girl. That, of course, would not remove the embarrassment of holding a love potion so close to his cup. There were many moments in her life she wished she could speak, but for most of it, she had always figured out a way to get by. There was no way for her to explain now. If the Yule Festival was to chase away the darkness and bring light, she wished the night would swallow her right now.

She turned her hand into a fist and placed it over her chest, making a circular motion. Vidar probably wouldn't understand, but it was the only way she could 'say' sorry.

His pale eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then his face lit like a candle. Vidar knelt before her and flattened some snow where her steps had ruined the white perfection. His finger formed shapes in the snow, words, and a whole sentence.

'You can write it.' it read.

Eira looked at him with surprise in her eyes. Of course, she could. She had done it in the past for other people, but now she was just so anxious the possibility had left her mind.

'I'm sorry.' She wrote and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Why?" He didn't write it this time but leaned in a bit, trying to look into her eyes.

Eira hesitated. She can't tell him she has had a crush on him for years. A crush that had developed practically from seeing him walk around the Festival, not knowing anything about him but wanting to. If she felt silly and stupid minutes ago, she was beyond embarrassed.

'I...was trying to sip you a love potion. I'm sorry for that. It was stupid and childish.' Her handwriting in the snow was shaky. The words looked as if a toddler wrote them as they curved funnily. She was shaking, but not because of the cold.

"Why do you think I need a love potion?" He leaned forward slowly, placing his hand on her chin and pulling her face closer. Warm lips pressed against hers, and suddenly, she felt the heat crawl through her face. He pulled away, and behind him, fire erupted in the distance.

"They lit the goat," Vidar commented as he turned around, his hands still on her chin. The fire light through the darkness like the sun before sunrise, chasing away the shadows. Eira, however, was still fixed on his face. The sharp pale features were lit by the distant fire, and her lips could still taste the Yule spices from his. She turned her head away, realizing she was staring, her eyes fixing back toward the darkness.

A horn echoed in the woods, and as she looked into the sky, she saw a pale host moving through the darkness. Her breath froze in her chest, her childhood, the Wild Hunt, was there, and she was deep in the woods. Eira turned toward Vidar, her hand reaching for his and squeezing as hard as she could to attract his attention. The man looked at her and then followed her gaze. Instead of panicking, however, he just smiled.

"It's okay. My father wouldn't hurt you." She looked at him, confused, but then her mouth made a silent O. "You didn't know Odin is my father?" He made a sad smile. "I think I prefer it that way." Her brushed his thumb against her lips and then got up, offering her his hand to follow him. "Come on. I spect that would be the best festival for both of us."