Frost and Flame

I first heard this old story on you tube @Thewitchescookery. Link at end of Entry.

This is a tale as old as time when the world was still lying in darkness and humans lived simpler lives. There were once two sisters, beautiful as day and night, they loved each other dearly but couldn't have been more different. One was called the Lady of the Frost. She had a heart as cold as snow with steel gray eyes, like a frozen lake under a stormy winter sky. Her frame was bony and thin, like a tree stripped bare by the wind. The other sister was known as the Mistress of Flames. She had a head full of wild hair, the color of a solstice Sun Sunrise. Her eyes were warm Auburn, like desert dust. She was said to be able to scorch everything she brushed with her fingers. Both sisters were devoted daughters, serving their Mother, Earth. They danced never-ending, to weave the circle of life and death. When they danced far apart, they felt like Queens reigning over their kingdoms with absolutism, but twice in the cycle of the year they would meet in the sky as friends and equals for the Equinox celebrations. Back then humans were much more observant of Mother Earth than we are today. They were well aware of the dance of the Two Sisters. After all, they learned about it from their fathers, who in turn had learned from their fathers, and so they would teach their young about the time-old dance of Fire and Ice. On freezing winter nights, the people would huddle around the last glimmering embers in the hearth and warn their children to listen to the sounds overhead. The howling of the wind rattled doors and blew through the cracks between the slates. This was a sign that Lady Frost was riding through the air followed by a ledger of wild Spirits driving the hungry wolves closer to the towns. With wide eyes, the children would listen to the stories of her unforgiving hard-hearted nature. How she would steal lives from animals leaving them frozen stiff in the snow, and how she would starve entire villages bringing a never-ending darkness to the world. On those cold winter nights, shivering in their cottages, the people would then tell stories of the Mistress of Flames. They would remind each other of the joyful times when she danced over the land and their fields were abundant with golden crops. The Meadows were green with luscious herbs, and the air was sweet with the scent of wild honey. They would reminisce about singing and dancing alongside her adorning crowns of wildflowers. Remembering long summer evenings spent by the river. The Lady of the Frost, wandering through the towns with her white soft cloak dragging behind her, would hear those stories. She felt a deep sadness come over her. The people didn't seem to notice the beautiful flowers of frost she painted on windows and the intricate fragile ornaments of ice she hung from trees. Feeling misunderstood and lonely, she wandered into the bleak winter forest. Between the white trunks of young birch trees, she searched for her sister, the Mistress of Flame, who passionately set the sky on fire with a slow-rising sun. Blazing red turned a pale frosty forest a mild orange. The help of the sparkling ice crystals guided the way. The closer the Lady of the Frost got, the thicker the morning fog became. She finally came face to face with The Mistress of Flame. Full of impulse, she embraced her sister warming her Frozen Heart. The Lady of Frost returned her sister's affection with quiet constancy, and so as every year they met on the vernal equinox before they would dance on the people. "They don't love me; they don't want my glittering snow. They don't appreciate the beauty of the dances I send over the northern Skies. They see me as evil and unnecessary, the lady of frost complained. They don't want me dancing over the fields they live on. With a spark of a twinkle in her eyes, the Mistress of Flames replied, "You must understand sister that the humans walking this earth right now are indeed Children of the fire. They naturally strive for life because they cannot see the necessity in death. They have learned to tame the fire and use it to bring life and comfort, but I know you dear sister. I see that your beautiful dance allows Mother Earth to sleep. It gives her rest, recovery, and nourishment. Walking carefully over icy fields, you bring Frost to the little seeds slumbering in Mother Earth's Embrace. Because of this, they will start to grow and bloom. When you leave bodies that have served their purpose and are too weak to carry on, you release and transform them into a shape from which they can give new life and nourishment for the never-ending cycle. Without the water you send down to the plains with the snow, melting in the mountains, I wouldn't be able to let my warmth grow plants and life. When I am dancing over the land, the people tell beautiful stories about the time you made all that winter brought them. Together around the fires, they lay down from their daily work and are grateful for the Harvest I bring. However, they equally fear the fires that transform their forests into fertile ashes. They complain about the long days and physical labor of the overwhelming tasks I bless them with. Humans are difficult creatures who are living cycle through cycle but never are content with where they are in the moment. Let's not bother ourselves with their sorrows but enjoy our merry dance, and when you dance on remember the laughter of children when they walk over frozen lakes and see the glittering white of an untouched field of snow. Remember how they build little people out of your soft coat of white, and cry when they melt. Your dance is just as important as mine to keep life moving." The Lady of the Frost gave her sister a chilly kiss on her warm cheek, and as their hands parted, they both danced on until they were as far apart as they would go. As the lady of the frost twirls between the soft flurries in the winter sky, she hears the sound of rhythmic drumming underneath. The people of the village were busy building big fires beckoning her sister to come back. She smiled toward the Horizon watching the streaks of the orange and pink, the dress of her sister flickering through the trees. She whispered my work here has been done with love and care dear sister, it's time for you to come back.

Thank you for this beautiful story @Thewitchescookery

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ag4TvSAdyE&t=5s