The final day of Autumn had come and gone. His brother Felfrond, who loved to sit and watch the leaves falling from trees in the waning light of days that grew shorter as the nights grew longer, had pulled his hood up over his head and sheathed his falchion blade. The stoat knew that his season had come to its natural end and had departed in the hours of early dawn. Never to show his face again until next year when the harvest moon would shine bright in the sky.

A chill entered the air as Murchadh approached. With every step the ground froze beneath his feet, frozen flakes fluttering behind him as in his wake the oranges and browns of autumn were enveloped by the crispness of advancing snowfall. Brandishing his scythe, it emanated the power of the season entrusted to him as he waved it through the air, heralding the coming of sleepy months dominated by darkness and cold. Though cursed with the weight of a frozen heart; in carrying out his duty Murchadh displayed a rare spirit of enthusiasm and glee as with every bounding stride he plunged the land into the embrace of Winter.

It was as though in that moment, his senses were expanded to encompass the world for miles around. He could sense the people bundling up in warm clothes. Closing their doors and windows. Gathering up their food stores and bracing themselves to endure the advent of frost as they had been preparing to do all year.

But he could also hear the laughter of children running out into the snow to play. Feel the watching gaze of people looking out through their windows and admiring a landscape seemingly airbrushed with diamond particles. Smell the sweet hot puddings being prepared indoors as people celebrated the end of a cycle.

His task was to wipe everything clean. To tuck the world in under a blanket of snow and kiss it goodnight as plants, animals and people hibernated through the long dark. His was a season of sleep - which also made it a season of dreaming and magic. For all the cold and the numbness, for all the starkness and cruelty of Winter that he was tasked with shouldering as the eldest of his brothers... there was still a beauty that could be found in the coldest of seasons that could soften the hardest of hearts. More than any other power that had been gifted to him, even more than his prowess in battle, it was the wonder and imagination that Winter could stir in people young and old alike that Murchadh savoured the most about his job.

Today was the beginning of his reign. For a few months he would revel in it, and then it would be time to step aside for his brother Rosewater to bring the tidings of Spring, and Wigbrant not far behind with Summer's haze.

And so onward the cycle would continue...

*****

Thank you for so many beautiful memories, Winter.

One of my favourite pieces ever, courtesy of the eternally amazing Madness_demon and their fantastic work bringing my selkie to life. <3