Flurries swirled and danced on the tips of the wind, resembling tiny dancers being carried upward, disappearing into the sky. Yet, even the most graceful dancers are replaceable. As one gust whisked them away, another would draw from the snowy pile, setting them into motion again. A perpetual cycle of beauty and departure.
A smile crept onto the young man's face. Lady Winter had finally arrived, bringing serenity to the typically frantic lands. Her presence was like a soothing sip of water after prolonged dehydration, easing his pain to the point of almost forgetting it. Almost, but not entirely, for the sharp sting of pain remained. Still, he could ignore it for a while, as Lady Winter also brought the promise of hope, joy, happiness, and a future he might be part of.
Without the hope Winter provided, he couldn’t imagine surviving the "holiday season." While people gathered around him, singing loudly and adorning everything with bright lights, he kept his eyes on the light blue horizon. He watched snowflakes dance and icicles fall, trees becoming covered in frost. He longed to join them.
Though the warmth indoors was pleasant, he wished his tree were covered in frost, with the only sounds being the whispers of the wind and the faint heartbeat of woodland creatures seeking refuge in its branches.
A dryad wasn't meant to be indoors, and his tree wasn’t meant to be cut down and brought inside for holiday cheer. It was completely and utterly wrong.
Humans bustled about, wrapping themselves in fabric and such. Most left, but one lingered behind.
“Water the tree, boy! We can’t let it die on us,” called the largest person as he departed.
Time seemed to slow as the water sloshed from the glass, through the air, and carelessly splattered in all directions.
The boy left, and silence ensued. Silence should have been refreshing, but it was not. This silence was paired with horror.
A hissing noise, paired with a prickling sensation, soon turned into a crackling roar and the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. His tree had transformed into what humans might consider a bonfire. Flames covered it from top to bottom, each bite of fire draining his lifeforce.
Growing weaker and weaker, he had only one option left. He abandoned his tree and hurried out into the cold.
Barely making it out before collapsing into the snow, the cold felt soothing on his burning skin, almost making him forget the pain. But he couldn't forget. One cannot forget the feeling of fading out of existence.
Nymphs sang, creatures slept, and the overall sounds of Christmas filled the air, taunting him.
Lifting his face from the snow, he spotted a figure. Her divine presence gave him the strength he needed. The dryad’s arms circled around, grabbed onto something, and pulled his weakening body toward Lady Winter.
She knelt down to him, ready to help.
With his last breath, he looked up at her, his eyes pleading.
She reached down, gently supporting his head. Whether oblivious to his pain or ignoring it, she spoke. “Smile, after all, it is Christmas and there is no reason not to smile on Christmas.”
He obeyed, a smile masking his pain as he finally burned into nothingness. After all, it was Christmas, and you were supposed to smile on Christmas.