Gentle flakes of snow,
The easy warmth of fire,
Watch as the world glows,
and as the day draws to tire.

Fire was blazing on the logs, but my whole body was frozen in fear.

Who could it be? At this hour?

Snow was falling outside. It was close to the end of the year.

Oh. I know who it might be. Who it should be.

Slowly I shuffled towards the door, hoping that the visitor would disappear, but they did not. I opened the door and was greeted by the confused, yet smiling face of the mayor.

“Why hello! Hello little one, hello!” He beamed enthusiastically.

“Hello,” I said. “How do you do?” I curtsied.

“Very well, thank you! Very well indeed. Why I did not know that anybody lived here!” He peeked down our street and turned back to me. “Why, the street look positively empty! My, I wouldn’t have guessed anyone lived here if I didn’t see the smoke coming out of your chimney.”

“Yes,” I said to him. “No one else does. Live on this street. I mean.”

You say that every year, I think to myself, but out loud I make no further remark. 

“You look rather young child, but yet so polite and mature! If only my own children were like that, but alas they are not. They are far too young to know any manners, I bet,” he said with a wink. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you child?”

“Twelve,” I replied. At least that was the one answer that changed every year.

“Ah, still so young! And where, if I may I ask, is your parental guardian?” He asked gently.

“My mother is at the marketplace. She will be back home shortly,” I said to him.

“Ah, I see, and is there anybody else here in your household?” he said smiling.

“No,” I responded. “Just my mother and myself. Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“No, no, no. But thank you very much. How thoughtful you are! There are still more doors to knock on, the mayor never gets to rest you know,” he smiled and winked. “Well I am here to issue an announcement! Now then, if you will allow me to begin,” he said. Then he cleared his throat. He turned to the clipboard that he was holding and read aloud from it.

“As you may already know, we are drawing close to the New Year! Hurrah! And of course, every year we will have our yearly celebration in the main square by the clock tower, to greet the new year with our beloved king.”

Mother used to tell me stories of the King of Eventide. She said he lived in the clock tower. He never came out, and we never saw him, so I was disinclined to believe. However, everyone was certain that he was in there.

The mayor held out his feather quill. He took a little ink pot out of his pocket, uncorked it and balanced it on the side of his clipboard. With flourish, he dipped the pen into it. “So, are you and your mother free to attend this year’s celebration? It will be happening in a week’s time.”

“I don’t know, that would be up to mother to decide,” I said.

“Ah, alright, shall I put you down as a ‘maybe’ then?” the mayor asked and winked at me. “And then maybe you can convince your mother when she comes back home to join us for a fun day of merrymaking.”

“That would be alright,” I said. “Thank you very much.”

“Do not mention it child, thank you very much! Now, are you certain that nobody else lives on this street?”

“Not that I know of,” I said. “I have not seen anyone else besides us, in many a year.”

“I shall skip this row of houses then shall I?” He said winking at me again. “Not much fun knocking on doors and speaking to no one if no one is there! Now if you will excuse me, have yourself a wonderful evening. I pray you and your mother will be able to join us for this marvellous outing! Farewell!”

“…I’ll pray for you too… Goodbye,” I said and gently shut the door behind me. I sat down quickly on the floor, my heart pounding, my knees giving way. Every year we have more or less the same conversation. Every year he forgets who I am. Every year I have a strange feeling in my chest that I did not understand. Was I scared? Confused? I never understood the emotion I felt upon meeting him. Aside from my mother he was the only person I ever talked to.

I was not looking forward to the New Year. I could only grow wearier as the days moved towards it.

I loved and dreaded it. I loved the feast that the town would hold. The decorations. The music that they would play.

But it was also the day that marked the arrival of the Night King.

The day somebody would inevitably disappear.