There was a noticeable chill in the air today, distinct from yesterday. Well, maybe that's not entirely accurate. The coldness was a constant in the Alaskan air, but today felt different—a harbinger of the impending change in seasons and the imminent return of snowfall. It seemed inevitable; Alexander could never escape a snowy birthday. Without fail, the flakes would start to fall, and his celebration would be marked by freezing temperatures.

Alexander started to miss the sun's warmth as the winter months drew near. The temperature would drop to uncomfortable levels for most people, which would cause tourists to leave and just the hardy natives to remain. He had hunted with his father the day before, restocking their freezer to last them through when the cold set in, his father's magical prowess would keep their home cozy by maintaining a steady fire throughout the night.

Alexander often wished they lived closer to town, but he knew with their magic that that was impossible. Well, if Alexander could get any magic to work for him, which he hadn't had any luck with so far, His birthday was tomorrow. He would be a year older. Once again, his father would try to get him to cast, and he would fail. He didn't think his father realized just how humiliating it was for Alexander to go through the same thing every year. How it would make the bullying he endured just that much worse.

He wanted to leave this place. Go somewhere no one knew him, where no one knew his family, and where magic wasn't so prevalent. Humans had it easy. He thought. They didn't have to worry about magic or whether they could cast it. They didn't have the extra worry. Not that he'd ever had the money to move across the country, nor would his father ever let him. He sighed as he rolled onto his side and stared at the clock. 12:59. He was nearly another year older.

He finally closed his eyes, ignoring the clock, simply wanting to sleep, and ignoring the fact that his birthday was nearly here and that he would go through the same thing he went through every year. Hopefully, he could just endure the humiliation once more without hitting someone. He hadn't yet, but he'd come close a few times.

The following day, Alexander woke up to his father's voice.

"Happy birthday, kiddo!" Alexander groaned and pulled the blanket over his face just to have it suddenly yanked away, "oh no, none of that. Up and at 'em!"

Alexander slowly sat up and stretched. "It's cold…." he muttered before finally giving in and getting out of bed. " Don't suppose there's any chance I could skip my birthday this year?" he asked, half-joking.

His father laughed, his dark hair contrasting his paler skin and making small laugh lines as he did. "Of course not. What's the fun in that? Now get downstairs and have some breakfast," he said before leaving the room.

Though all Alexander desired was to crawl back under the covers, he knew it would only delay the inevitable. After a shower and a change into fresh clothes, he headed downstairs. In the kitchen, his father sat at the table, and the tempting aroma of pancakes, bacon, and sausage filled the air, awakening his appetite. As he drowned his pancakes in syrup, his father droned on about the details of his birthday party, an annual event planned against Alexander's wishes. 

Of course, the dreaded part was always on the agenda – attempting to cast magic. It had become an unfortunate tradition, initiated when one turned sixteen. Alexander's repeated failures subjected him to the same ordeal every year. Following breakfast, Alexander had the rest of the day to himself, intentionally avoiding thoughts of the impending party and its unpleasant rituals.

He wandered to the library, losing himself in a book until his phone buzzed, reminding him of the impending alarm. Tempted to linger and hope his father wouldn't find him, he acknowledged the impossibility of hiding from a witch. Sighing, he rose from his chair, stowed away the book, and made his way home, each step feeling heavier. Upon arrival, the party was already in full swing. He suspected people attended each year to witness his failed attempts at casting and find amusement in his struggles. After enduring the uncomfortable stares and hushed whispers longer than intended, he retreated into the house, disregarding the judgmental glances. Despite the awkwardness, his father appeared pleased with the festivities.