Lore:Starlight Celebration

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2010

The history of Eorzea is a dark one, stained with the blood of those who have fallen victim to innumerable episodes of strife. Several generations ago, one such episode erupted into a series of battles that not only claimed countless lives, but left thousands homeless and without food. Yet none were hit harder than the children of Ishgard, who, in addition to being left hungry and alone, were forced to endure the chilling alpine winds of Coerthas in order to simply survive.

But it is oft said, the darker the history, the brighter the acts of good do shine.

Each night, while on their routine patrols of the city, a handful of Ishgardian knights would seek out these children and offer them room and board within the walls of their company barracks. This, of course, was strictly forbidden by the knight's charter, and so the kind men and women, many of them once orphans themselves, would disguise the children in the jackets of their scarlet uniforms, allowing them to slip into the building unnoticed.

After many months, the fighting eventually subsided and peace once again returned to the realm. As Ishgard rebuilt, the number of orphans in the city-state eventually dwindled back to zero, and soon the wartime tradition was all but forgotten...

Until a group of former orphans gathered together in order to pay tribute to the knights who rescued them, and ensure that no one ever forgot their remarkable deeds. On the coldest week of each year, they would dress up in brilliant scarlet uniforms and pass out gifts to the children of the realm, in turn, passing along the happiness that they once received on a starlit night, many years past.

And that tradition lives on today in the Starlight Celebration.

2011

Winter’s Knell
The North Shroud is unseasonably warm this year. In fact, there are some as say winter has yet to arrive. This makes yet another strange phenomenon assailing the land, and consternation is writ plain on the faces of Gridanians. Between this and the bloody-red hue of Dalamud, the citizens can scarce be begrudged their sense of apprehension.

An odd few have been heard expressing that they would as soon skip the harshness of winter in favor of an early spring. This way of thinking, however, is dangerously naïve, warns Fufucha of the Botanists’ Guild. The bounty of ice and snow is no less important than that yielded in warmth, stresses the Lalafell, before going on to remind us in a motherly tone that nature is dependent upon the turn of the seasons. The coming of the cold tells plants to shed their leaves against the chill, and animals to hoard what food they can. A late winter would cause seeds to sprout prematurely, only to wither before the onslaught of biting wind.

Far be it from this paper’s intent to incite panic, but the situation is grimmer than one might think. This grimness certainly was not lost upon an Ala Mhigan refugee named Waldomar, who took it upon himself to approach Stillglade Fane with a proposal: the holding of a festival hailing from his homeland called Winter’s Knell.

According to the Hyrstmill resident, Winter’s Knell is but one facet of the Starlight Celebration observed in his native Ala Mhigo. The festival entails the building of Father Frost, a giant of snow, in a ritual to usher in the blessing of winter and pray for the well-being of loved ones.

As any forestborn will know, the conjurers, ever seeking the elementals’ blessings in all affairs of state, are widely regarded as being excessively measured in their actions. And so it came rather as a surprise when Stillglade Fane received Waldomar’s proposal with open arms, wasting no time to engage the services of Black Rabbit Traders to assist with the festivities. This behavior on the conjurers’ part was so uncharacteristic, The Raven resolved to discover the forces that compelled it. And discover them we did, via a confidential interview with an initiate of Stillglade Fane, who agreed to speak with us on the condition of anonymity.

Among a host of other startling revelations, we learned that the conjurers have no expectations whatsoever that the festival will actually beckon cold weather to the North Shroud. In allowing the ritual to proceed, they mean only to assuage the mounting tension among the populace with a touch of revelry. And if relations between forestborn and Ala Mhigans were to improve in the course of events, they would be well pleased. With the dual threat of the Garleans and the Ixal bearing down upon us, our nation's leaders are bent on wringing out all the unity there is to be had.

The matter of motive aside, Winter’s Knell comes to the Twelveswood for the first time; whether winter will follow in its wake, however, remains to be seen.

Update:

Gone with the Snow
Readers may recall Winter’s Knell, the Ala Mhigan festival to usher in the blessing of ice and snow scheduled to be held in Hyrstmill. Answering the clarion call of Black Rabbit Traders, score upon score of adventurers made their way to the hamlet, where they gleefully assisted in the making of Father Frost in a flurry of ensorcelled snowballs. Paying the venue a visit the day past, I could not help but be astonished by the rapid gains in size made by the snow giant. And as he grew, so too did the collective hope of the populace that winter will come to the North Shroud as it rightly should.

Alas, that hope would vanish into nothingness, as if it had never existed. To the great dismay of all involved, when the day of the ritual dawned, Father Frost was nowhere to be found. Waldomar, the Ala Mhigan native overseeing the festival, is adamant that such a vast amount of ice could not have melted away overnight; the fact that nary a pool of water remained where Father Frost once stood certainly lends credence to the theory. Yet that is the least of the man's worries. In keeping with tradition, a priceless Ala Mhigan relic—a gemstone called the Heart of Winter—was embedded within the snow giant's breast, and has gone missing withal. Suffice it to say the turn of events has left Waldomar and his kinsmen visibly distressed, and casts a stark shadow over this year's Heavensturn festivities.

From tasteless hoax to sabotage to grand theft, speculation runs rife regarding the nature of Father Frost’s disappearance. Whatever the truth may be, we at The Raven pray that it will come to light in all swiftness.