𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

Bricriu gazed out the open window into the night, lost in thought. The mists swirled, obscuring vision and bathing Illarine in a soft light as they slowly gathered. They always began gathering at this time of year, and when the white midnight came the sky would be filled with mist. The white midnight was coming; his breath turned to mist as he lost it. The white midnight was coming; a time of warmth and mirth on the coldest and longest day of the year. 

    It was his favourite time of the year; it always had been. It was a time of year when Bricriu could feast like the royalty he deserved to be. His father had always told him how their bloodline was descended from the great kings that lived long ago. Bricriu always loved to think about how it would feel to be where he deserved to be. 

The