05-28-2026, 08:21 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-09-2026, 10:32 AM by yasminegalenorn.)
I asked the D'Artigo sisters what their favorite Yuletide memories were!
Midwinter Memories From the D’Artigo Sisters
Camille: What I remember most from my childhood is how our mother loved the holidays. She’d taken our customs, added her own, and created a truly beautiful blend for the Midwinter celebration. She would fill the house with holly and evergreens, and white poinsettias and red carnations and starberry flowers the color of gold. Each year Father brought in a tree and we’d decorate it with spikes of polished quartz and delicate porcelain ornaments that Mother had made, and we hung up baked cookies in the shape of stars and suns and moons, and garland of strung berries. And Mother had a special ornament that she’d had since her childhood—one of the few things that had belonged to her mother and father. The piece was lovely, delicate sphere of blown glass, with her family name—D’Artigo—inscribed on it in glittering ink.
The year I’m thinking about, Delilah was still toddling around, and Menolly was in diapers. Mother said I could help her trim the tree. I was so excited, and I wanted to hang up the special ornament but she told me no, it was too delicate. When I was a little older she’d let me put it on the tree. Well, I had other ideas. I waited until she wasn’t looking and then I took the ornament out of its box and started to carry it over to the tree. I wanted to put it up high, where everybody could see it, so I tried to use one of my spells. It was a simple levitation spell, one most witches my age could do, but of course, being me, something went haywire and crash, the ornament dropped to the ground.
I was in tears and so was Mother. Although she didn’t scold me, not much, I knew I’d screwed up big time. Father read me the riot act and I guess I deserved it. Well, a few days later he came home with a present for Mother. When she opened it, I heard her give a little gasp. Mother’s hand fluttered to her throat, and she got this teary-eyed look. In the box were three perfect hand blown glass spheres, and each one had one of our names on it—Camille te Maria D’Artigo, Delilah te Maria D’Artigo, and Menolly te Maria D’Artigo. He told Mother he couldn’t replace her childhood keepsake, but he could create new ones for the family she had now. That was her favorite gift he ever gave her, and each year, she would gently help the three of us girls as we each hung our ornament on the tree, and then we’d go out to celebrate the Midwinter with the town. I miss those days.
Delilah: If I have to pick a midwinter memory that sticks out the most, it would be the year after our mother died. All three of us girls missed her terribly, but I think I was having the hardest time adjusting. And Father didn’t have the faintest clue of how to proceed with the holy days. He wanted to make life whole for us, but he was hurting so much himself that there’s no way he could get it together for us.
We were still fairly young, all three of us, though Camille was into her early teens, by Earthside standards, and she’d been trying to pick up the pieces and make life as normal as she could for Menolly and me. She asked our cousin Shamas to help her go cut down a tree, and she did her best to emulate Mother, guiding us to decorate it and asking the cook to prepare the holiday favorites during the season. Father was struggling to cope and I guess he decided Camille was doing a good job helping us two younger girls, so he sort of sat back and let her do what she wanted.
But there was one problem—gifts. Our mother had always given us gifts, but Father totally spaced it out. Camille didn’t want to ask Aunt Rythwar—who’d already been of so much help—so she decided to get them on her own. None of the rest of the family would help, because Mother had been human and we were half-breeds. But Camille heard there was a leprechaun in the woods, so she decided to find him and see if he’d give her a wish. Leprechauns are notorious for hiding during the day, so a few nights before Midwinter, she snuck out of the house and off into the woods to find him. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but she got horribly lost. Eventually, she lucked out and ran across the leprechaun, who took pity on her. He said he’d give her a wish, but he also brought her home and pounded on the door in the middle of the night. Father hadn’t even realized she’d been gone and I guess it was a wakeup call, reminding him that he had three daughters who needed him because after that, he became an active member of the family again.
I was listening behind the door when Camille asked the leprechaun—who still offered to grant her a wish—if he could bring our mother back to life. She burst into tears when he said he couldn’t, but he did give her three magic gifts, one for each of us girls, and a package for Father.
The next morning, on Yuletide Day, we opened the gifts. Menolly found a glass flute and she played it for years until the Elwing Blood Clan took away her breath. Father’s package contained an oval picture frame with a living picture of Mother in it, she would forever be smiling at him. My own gift was a spidersilk walking skirt—I needed a new one and it would keep me warm when I went wandering through the woods.
But Camille’s gift was the best of all, and she deserved it for all the trouble she’d gone to. The leprechaun gave Camille a little vial of moon shimmer—captured beams from the Moon Mother. Whenever she needed comforting, she held it in her hand and the Moon Mother’s energy embraced her with sparkling light and held her safe and warm, just like she tried to do for Menolly and me. And I think it’s still in her jewelry box.
Menolly: My favorite memory of the holidays is from Otherworld, too. I remember the celebration that our city-state holds each year. On Midwinter’s Night most of the citizens of Y’Elestrial gather at the banks overlooking the Erulizi Falls, which pour into Lake Y’Leveshan. The lake and the falls are always iced over during the winter, sparkling like crystal under the snow-showered night. Everyone gathers around the shores to celebrate the Snow Queen and the Holly King, who rule over the winter months. Magic flows like honey and by morning, when the sun rises, the frozen fields are shimmering under the weight of the newly fallen snow. Right before dawn, the children awake to join the parade to the Altar of the Ancients.
Only children are allowed to take part in the parade, led by a priestess of the shrine. The older children carry the younger ones. I remember filing through the deep snow, into the forest until we reached the Tengmar Grove where the shrine to the Ancient Dreaming Ones rests. There we would gather in a circle around Mother Dream Walker—who is the matriarch of all unicorns, and each year, she sang to us the tales and legends from days long gone by. And each year, she would choose two girls to join the Order of the Ancient Sisterhood. The priestesses of Mother Dream Walker are historians, they keep the songs and tales and legends that have passed down since long before the Great Divide. They tuck them safe within a secret barrow somewhere in the woodlands, and they also remember them by heart. To remember the past is their only task.
I wanted so bad to be one of the girls picked—each year I waited and waited for my name to be called, but it never was. I suppose I don’t have the temperament for the Sisterhood, but I kept hoping. The last year I was allowed to attend—Camille and Delilah had already been excluded a few years before me—I prayed all day, begging the Great Mother to let my name be one of the ones called that night. But the singing came and went, and then they chose two girls whom were quiet, good at their studies, who never stood out much among the city children. I knew then that I’d never join the ranks of the Sisterhood—adults were never chosen. I left, crying, and it took me days to get over the heartbreak. I never again was allowed to go to the Grove, but I’ll always remember it. Those were the most beautiful nights…
Midwinter Memories From the D’Artigo Sisters
Camille: What I remember most from my childhood is how our mother loved the holidays. She’d taken our customs, added her own, and created a truly beautiful blend for the Midwinter celebration. She would fill the house with holly and evergreens, and white poinsettias and red carnations and starberry flowers the color of gold. Each year Father brought in a tree and we’d decorate it with spikes of polished quartz and delicate porcelain ornaments that Mother had made, and we hung up baked cookies in the shape of stars and suns and moons, and garland of strung berries. And Mother had a special ornament that she’d had since her childhood—one of the few things that had belonged to her mother and father. The piece was lovely, delicate sphere of blown glass, with her family name—D’Artigo—inscribed on it in glittering ink.
The year I’m thinking about, Delilah was still toddling around, and Menolly was in diapers. Mother said I could help her trim the tree. I was so excited, and I wanted to hang up the special ornament but she told me no, it was too delicate. When I was a little older she’d let me put it on the tree. Well, I had other ideas. I waited until she wasn’t looking and then I took the ornament out of its box and started to carry it over to the tree. I wanted to put it up high, where everybody could see it, so I tried to use one of my spells. It was a simple levitation spell, one most witches my age could do, but of course, being me, something went haywire and crash, the ornament dropped to the ground.
I was in tears and so was Mother. Although she didn’t scold me, not much, I knew I’d screwed up big time. Father read me the riot act and I guess I deserved it. Well, a few days later he came home with a present for Mother. When she opened it, I heard her give a little gasp. Mother’s hand fluttered to her throat, and she got this teary-eyed look. In the box were three perfect hand blown glass spheres, and each one had one of our names on it—Camille te Maria D’Artigo, Delilah te Maria D’Artigo, and Menolly te Maria D’Artigo. He told Mother he couldn’t replace her childhood keepsake, but he could create new ones for the family she had now. That was her favorite gift he ever gave her, and each year, she would gently help the three of us girls as we each hung our ornament on the tree, and then we’d go out to celebrate the Midwinter with the town. I miss those days.
Delilah: If I have to pick a midwinter memory that sticks out the most, it would be the year after our mother died. All three of us girls missed her terribly, but I think I was having the hardest time adjusting. And Father didn’t have the faintest clue of how to proceed with the holy days. He wanted to make life whole for us, but he was hurting so much himself that there’s no way he could get it together for us.
We were still fairly young, all three of us, though Camille was into her early teens, by Earthside standards, and she’d been trying to pick up the pieces and make life as normal as she could for Menolly and me. She asked our cousin Shamas to help her go cut down a tree, and she did her best to emulate Mother, guiding us to decorate it and asking the cook to prepare the holiday favorites during the season. Father was struggling to cope and I guess he decided Camille was doing a good job helping us two younger girls, so he sort of sat back and let her do what she wanted.
But there was one problem—gifts. Our mother had always given us gifts, but Father totally spaced it out. Camille didn’t want to ask Aunt Rythwar—who’d already been of so much help—so she decided to get them on her own. None of the rest of the family would help, because Mother had been human and we were half-breeds. But Camille heard there was a leprechaun in the woods, so she decided to find him and see if he’d give her a wish. Leprechauns are notorious for hiding during the day, so a few nights before Midwinter, she snuck out of the house and off into the woods to find him. I’m not sure what exactly happened, but she got horribly lost. Eventually, she lucked out and ran across the leprechaun, who took pity on her. He said he’d give her a wish, but he also brought her home and pounded on the door in the middle of the night. Father hadn’t even realized she’d been gone and I guess it was a wakeup call, reminding him that he had three daughters who needed him because after that, he became an active member of the family again.
I was listening behind the door when Camille asked the leprechaun—who still offered to grant her a wish—if he could bring our mother back to life. She burst into tears when he said he couldn’t, but he did give her three magic gifts, one for each of us girls, and a package for Father.
The next morning, on Yuletide Day, we opened the gifts. Menolly found a glass flute and she played it for years until the Elwing Blood Clan took away her breath. Father’s package contained an oval picture frame with a living picture of Mother in it, she would forever be smiling at him. My own gift was a spidersilk walking skirt—I needed a new one and it would keep me warm when I went wandering through the woods.
But Camille’s gift was the best of all, and she deserved it for all the trouble she’d gone to. The leprechaun gave Camille a little vial of moon shimmer—captured beams from the Moon Mother. Whenever she needed comforting, she held it in her hand and the Moon Mother’s energy embraced her with sparkling light and held her safe and warm, just like she tried to do for Menolly and me. And I think it’s still in her jewelry box.
Menolly: My favorite memory of the holidays is from Otherworld, too. I remember the celebration that our city-state holds each year. On Midwinter’s Night most of the citizens of Y’Elestrial gather at the banks overlooking the Erulizi Falls, which pour into Lake Y’Leveshan. The lake and the falls are always iced over during the winter, sparkling like crystal under the snow-showered night. Everyone gathers around the shores to celebrate the Snow Queen and the Holly King, who rule over the winter months. Magic flows like honey and by morning, when the sun rises, the frozen fields are shimmering under the weight of the newly fallen snow. Right before dawn, the children awake to join the parade to the Altar of the Ancients.
Only children are allowed to take part in the parade, led by a priestess of the shrine. The older children carry the younger ones. I remember filing through the deep snow, into the forest until we reached the Tengmar Grove where the shrine to the Ancient Dreaming Ones rests. There we would gather in a circle around Mother Dream Walker—who is the matriarch of all unicorns, and each year, she sang to us the tales and legends from days long gone by. And each year, she would choose two girls to join the Order of the Ancient Sisterhood. The priestesses of Mother Dream Walker are historians, they keep the songs and tales and legends that have passed down since long before the Great Divide. They tuck them safe within a secret barrow somewhere in the woodlands, and they also remember them by heart. To remember the past is their only task.
I wanted so bad to be one of the girls picked—each year I waited and waited for my name to be called, but it never was. I suppose I don’t have the temperament for the Sisterhood, but I kept hoping. The last year I was allowed to attend—Camille and Delilah had already been excluded a few years before me—I prayed all day, begging the Great Mother to let my name be one of the ones called that night. But the singing came and went, and then they chose two girls whom were quiet, good at their studies, who never stood out much among the city children. I knew then that I’d never join the ranks of the Sisterhood—adults were never chosen. I left, crying, and it took me days to get over the heartbreak. I never again was allowed to go to the Grove, but I’ll always remember it. Those were the most beautiful nights…