Story inspired by this picture: elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/a/b/abranda/springtemp.jpg.html

Day sighed. Her twin sister Night had just pushed her aside again, apologizing. That was their existence, but sometimes Day hated it. Night knew this, and always took her time in coming, but she would take over nonetheless. That was what their parents had intended, and so it was.

It was currently March, which meant that the twins’ older sister Winter was in place. She ruled the world with a harsh but steady hand. Winter had a hard beauty to her, but was gorgeous all the same. No one denied Winter, but few embraced her. Soon it would be Spring’s turn.

Everyone loved Spring. She was soft in her beauty and much more gentle than the eldest season she replaced. Spring had long golden hair and warm green eyes. Life followed her, seemed to come from her. Day herself was also blond, but a brighter more flaxen tone, and clear blue eyes.

Day and Night did their routine dance until finally it was finally Equinox, and Winter stepped down. Day loved Spring, who was probably her closest sister, and hated her at the same time. Yes, it was envy, but it was much more as well. The twins’ older siblings- their sisters, Winter and Spring, and brothers Summer and Autumn- had it so much easier than the twins. Every few hours, Day and Night danced, and for what? To keep pace for the seasons who ruled the world Day could never understand? Day was not power-hungry, no, she was just tired.

Spring shared Day’s joy for life, her yearning for light, and her youthful exuberance. That made them close. But Spring was unlike Day- she was much less weary. They were the only children of Mother Earth and Father Time to have such shining hope. Winter was the eldest, and almost entirely pessimistic. Autumn was cautious, but Summer was lazy. Night cared little about anyone, except sometimes Day.

The ceremony started as soon as Day opened the Equinox. The Courts of the Immortals were filled with gods and goddesses: there was Death, and Life herself, the sister of Time. They sat with Earth and Time on their thrones, with everyone else in the court before them.

Also on the dais were Day, Night and the seasons. The ceremony started, and Winter danced. She moved gracefully, quietly, with a torpid sensuality. She concluded, and no one dared move. Spring stood up, and Day felt a tightening in her heart. Everyone applauded, and Spring began her dance around her sister. Winter remained unmoving, her face a mask of studied unresponsiveness. Spring’s dance was also beautiful, but faster, louder, and much more tempestuous. She concluded, standing still beside Winter.

Now Earth and Time stood and approached their children. Day felt spellbound but sickened. So many times she had witnessed this ceremony, so often she was cast aside. Night might not care, but Day needed the warmth, the love, that the seasons had. She didn’t want to watch, but couldn’t turn away. The Immortal parents were powerful; every being in the Courts felt them move, felt their pride and love, and the heaviness of their own existences.

The stunning silver crown that Winter wore was lifted from her silvery-blue head by Earth at the same time a dainty gold one was placed on Spring’s blond head. The applause was loud and admiring, and felt like a thousand daggers assaulting her mind and heart, as though her ears would bleed if the noise didn’t cease. Her throat caught and Day ran from the Courts, through the palace, away from the jarring clamor. She ran and ran, and burst from the front doors.

The Palace overlooked the Valley of Life, in which lied the Forest of Creatures and the castle of her aunt and uncle. Beyond that, the Mountains of Silence rose majestically before her. Past them lay the realm of the Immortals, where the gods and goddesses made their own dwellings.

Day collapsed at the edge of the cliff. To descend from the Palace to the Valley was an easy task, there was a winding road down the mountain the Palace was on. But Day did not stand near the road, she stood at the opposite side of the peak, where no road was made. She screamed now, her voice echoing into the deep valley below. She curled herself up and stared down the mountain. Day retreated, and Night, still inside the palace realized this and released the dark sky behind her, her black hair whipping as though being confronted with a fierce wind, her stormy blue eyes dilating as she forced the stars and moon to come out early. The Immortals cried in alarm. Why was Night doing this?

Time called to the masses to calm them, and Earth hurried out of the room. She found Day lying on the ground, so tediously close to the edge. Day watched her with saddened eyes as she approached. She sighed now and stood up, her back to her mother.

“Why do you do this? What troubles your heart so, my daughter?” Earth called, her voice wrapping around Day like a soft blanket, making her want to step back. She forced herself to stay as she was, and her mother continued. “The world cannot have only Night.”

“And why not?” Day whispered. “I am so tired. Let Night remain; they’ll get used to it. Even now they embrace her as they shun me.”

“That is not true, and you know it. What is really the matter?” Earth asked. She already knew, but it was not for her to say. She had to let her daughter speak in her own time.

“It is so petty of me!” Day cried out now, and threw herself back on the ground, away from the cliff. Earth swept her up in her arms in one graceful movement and held her sobbing daughter. “I am not jealous; I am not! I am so tired, so weary of my dance. I see no point; we do it so often, we do it without real purpose!”

“I know, my dear, I know. But this is how it must be. Even your father and I are bound to our tasks, to our responsibilities, as you are to yours. We did not conceive you to be pawns or puppets, but to guide, lead, and love. You are needed, Day,” Earth said, smoothing the white-blond hair back and wiping Day’s tears.

“How can I guide? Love? We are all servants of that awful world! We are so much more than they and yet we are so bound to them,” Day exclaimed, taking in deep breaths of air as she calmed herself. Earth smiled sadly, and Day saw in her face the weight of thousands of dances, of joy, heartache, and much else she had not experienced, and she understood.

“It is the journey my dear, not the purpose. You are not bound as you think you are. You do your job, yes, and you do it well, but you embrace other things as well,” Earth said. The words resounded in Day’s mind, ‘the journey, not the purpose.’

“Surely the purpose is important as well?” she questioned. Earth gave a tiny laugh. Her daughter was not stupid.

“It is. But we mustn’t lose sight of the whole picture in the despair we feel over a piece of it,” she replied. Day sighed and hugged her mother. They sat in silence for a long while before Time approached them from behind.

Day had fallen asleep in his wife’s arms, and her father now picked her up and carried her inside. The ceremony was over, and the party was just beginning. Time set Day down on her bed and stood by Earth, just looking at their youngest child.

“I told her the truth,” Earth finally whispered, tears beginning to well in her own eyes. Time held her.

“I know, darling, I know,” he murmured, and led her out to the party. Neither Immortal did any dancing during the celebration.