A new year approaches. It’s at times like this that we can feel the old magic of the world, when cycles wake from their rest to turn again. The world is starting anew, as it does each winter, waking in the fresh, cold air.
You might see spirits dancing in the wilds tonight, or people might make wishes or promises. Some folks save provisions throughout the autumn so as to have a feast in celebration. Some people sing songs, some light candles and huge bonfires, and others spend it quietly, in their own way. My mage and I come here every year, to this one spot in the mountains, where the winter sky does strange things and fills us with a glimmer of anticipation.