A child’s tradition- the shadow dance, to summon and welcome Kinderfreund and Helpmeet -- Weirdlet
Kid culture is a heck of a thing. Nobody knows who invented the floor being lava. There's no recorded instance of step on a crack. Nobody knows who first determined how to use a dandelion clock.
Nobody knows who created the Shadow Dance.
Just like nobody knows who thought of leaving out offerings for Greatfather Langeven and the unicorn that draws his sled. All around Alfarell, children just... started doing it. And it worked.
The essential part of the ritual is a light source. The waning rays of sunset are used most often. Unsurprisingly, the children who call upon Kinderfreund and Helpmeet are the ones who don't have fire on Midwinterfeast eve. The important part is to cast a long shadow, so that it looks like a grownup.
They dance to make the long shadow sweep, and put their hands near their heads in such a way as to make the shadow have upright horns. Then there is the chant.
"Dance, shadow, dance. All I ask is half a chance. Save me from an awful fate and I beg you don't be late. Kinderfreund, Kinderfreund, Kinderfreund! Helpmeet, Helpmeet, Helpmeet! Come on your goats 'cause I aint got a groat!"
It's ideal to do this where few, if any, can see it. Those who need the Shadows of Midwinterfeast are also more likely to be punished for trying to summon them. Nevertheless, the practice spread.
Children in dire situations did the shadow dance. Children who thought they were in dire situations did the shadow dance. Occasionally, spoiled brats who were mad at their parents did the shadow dance.
Kinderfreund and Helpmeet come anyway, and meter out justice accordingly.
That is a warning.
Balin Femoria believed he was badly done by. His parents absolutely refused to buy him a proper horse and insisted he should learn to ride on a pony first. And they made him eat his vegetables every single night. So he ate the honey cakes meant for Greatfather Langeven and summoned Kinderfreund.
He woke up under a thin blanket in a tumbledown hovel. Well. The ruin of a tumbledown hovel. Where is bed was a tangle of wire that kept him off the icy patch caused by the water that dripped through the horrible thatch of the roof.
Kinderfreund was waiting. A devil's shadow with three horns. There was also the shorter, plumper shadow of Helpmeet. Though she lacked the eyes of fire, Balin felt that they were both judging him.
"What is the meaning of this?" Balin demanded. "I wanted justice."
"You've got it," said Kinderfreund. "Your parents have a very special gift. A child who will be grateful for anything they get."
Helpmeet said, "You may take your old place back if you find your way back to your home and apologise to your parents."
"Be warned," they said at once, "they may not want you when you return."
They weren't cruel. They were focussed on the true meaning of justice. In this case, showing a whiny brat that there were worse things he could suffer.
Balin did find his way back to his home. The hovel was not very far from his parents' winter mansion. The trip there took most of the day, and his apology was deeply sincere.
He didn't know what to think about his new sister, all the same. It was her bed he'd woken up in, and he knew she needed Kinderfreund to save her. But she had woken up in his bed, and was grateful for his presents, and ate his Midwinterfeast meals. Vegetables and all.
It was easy to be jealous.
Until he remembered where he woke up, and how unpleasant it was.
Balin decided to be grateful to get a sister for Midwinterfeast. It could have been worse, after all. She could have been a baby.
[Photo by Matthew Buchanan on Unsplash]
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