Legends of Myrken Wood - Sabinus Willoughby
Of Wintry Wonders and Wobbly Ones
Worldwide, the wonders of winter, Dear Reader, are many and numerous, various and sundry, and even plentiful! Myrken Wood, though, has a scarcity of such. No unicorns skirt the snowy woods in winter, no abominable snowmen lumber about, and no faeries sprinkle their magical dusts in hidden recesses. In fact, one might say that there's very little magic at all to Myrken Wood in winter.
But there is a little.
Well, there is quite a bit, actually, Dear Reader. It's just concentrated very nicely into two people, both quite real and yet quite fictional at the same time. These are Myrken Wood's own Father and Mother Winter.
Father Winter is the greatest toymaker to ever carry around a knife to whittle with, thread to sew a doll with, or a chisel to poke and pry with. His attitude is eternally jolly and generous, and he's said to be unable to say or do much to ever hurt anyone. There simply isn't a mean bone in his big-boned body. Nowhere amid his roly-poly girth and his poofy, fluffy, enormous moustache and beard can he hide any anger or a bad temper. If there's one habit he really should stop, however, it's that he smokes a pipe almost constantly, though some believe this is how he focuses his magical powers! This is an absurd notion, at best.
Mother Winter is his complement and his partner forever. The two of them are immortal, yes, never to pass away from age or dreadful consequences. The Good Mother is renowned for her cooking, especially (someone has to keep the Father's stomach swollen to its legendary size!), but also for her sewing and her singing. She is said to be the match of her husband in all things; just like the Father, she, too, is not said to harbor any malice against others.
Their sole purpose in life is to reward the good boys and girls at the end of each year--'round what most Elves call Sylimburn, folks in other provinces call everything from Frost Tide to Christmas, and what we in Myrken haven't given a proper name of our own yet, so we usually simply call it Sylimburn (though I'd prefer Frost Tide, myself). Anyway, the good Father and Mother only help, only reward; no punishments are ever inflicted on the naughty children, though it's said that the Father keeps a most expansive list of those naughty and nice.
Their appearances are simple! Take the roundest, funniest, jolliest old man you've ever met--your grandfather, perhaps--and even he cannot compare with the butterball that is the good Father Winter. Eternally aged but never old and decrepit, he is very easy to pick out from a crowd, should one ever have the chance to meet him. As for the Mother? She herself is much more elusive than her husband, but she's said to nearly be his match in looks, being a pleasingly plump lady herself with a head of well-kept snowy hair. Both are said to be weak of vision, with a pair of eyeglasses atop their pudgy little noses. In addition, Father Winter, in particular, is said to have a fondness for absurd colors of clothing, said to wear all manner of outfits that simply don't look very nice on him.
Rumors have it that their magic powers--even their very lives!--are tied to the season of winter itself, and snow, and ice, and cold. Rumors have it that these two lovable entities--whether from their own doing or that of some higher force--are almost two different people the rest of the year, outside of winter. Some say that they have seen these two marvelous people in the middle of summer. In the middle of summer, Father Winter is said to look mostly the same, but he is said to be even rounder of belly, though slower of foot and harder of breath. His wife, though, the Good Mother herself, is said to be a much different lady, said to look possibly thirty years younger with ravishing, long red hair, though she (like her husband) is still rather plump.
Have they any children? This is what most folks wonder. In short, we don't know if these two beings, with all the children in the world under their lovable care, have any of their own. It's quite possible that their magic--which supposedly does everything from keeping Father Winter from getting too thin or too fat to letting them summon cakes and cookies and pastries at will--keeps them able to have children despite their apparent ages, though none of the legends mention any babies. One would have to wonder and chuckle at the thought, though; if the Father is any indication, then at least some of the babies they would have would certainly be quite trying on the Mother when she could have them!
