The town of Myrefall had always been a celebration of light in the vast woods of Ecros, a country known for its rich nature and expansive reach. Fields of flowers that stretched far beyond what the eye could see, woods so dense they were difficult to travel through without getting caught or circling the same narrow paths over and over. It was a land where the days were bright with the light of the sun cascading over, and the nights dark, with only the light of the moon casting a soft iridescent glow over the landscape. Myrefall was its centrepiece, a beacon of shining and shimmering light that once a year, with the moon full and positioned above the heart of the town, erupted into light. Trees, flowers, even the droplets of water from the fountain in the centre soaked up the light and gave an iridescent glow to their surroundings that made even the thick and old trees seem like they were made of pure, golden moonlight.

The people of Myrefall would celebrate this yearly ritual with music. The townspeople would come together and bring out their instruments, never knowing what music they would make and yet always finding a beautiful harmony together. Some people brought food, others brought wine, they would sing and dance and take off their shoes to wade through the fountain with their loved ones and their friends, with trousers rolled up and skirts bundled together to keep them dry. Once a year, the town would become one, and celebrate their ancestors who had found this piece of - to them - sacred land. They would call it, the Golden Night.

With the night setting in, the sun disappearing into the background and the stars coming out to play, the first of the meals were already taken outside by the townspeople to display on tables, with paper plates for people to fill up and devour. The first bottles of wine were already opened and glasses richly filled, while the first sound of a guitar could be heard idly playing something in the background. The Golden Night, a day to remember, or it would be once the festivities would start, but over the years, a day of festivities had become an evening of festivities, and that had become a night of festivities. The Golden Night, a night to remember.

But the moon never came.

The festive sensation started to dwindle, as people huddled together, whispering to one another. They could not understand why the moon was not there yet, but perhaps if they just gave it some time … Nervously, another instrument joined in, and another, and the odd laughter echoed through the quieter night, and people were encouraged to fill their plates and tuck in.

It grew darker, as the night came in hard, and the nervousness grew among them. “What is happening..?” Violetta asked, once she was reunited with her parents, who were nervously calling for their daughter in the crowd of men and women that started to huddle together to see if someone, anyone had an answer, but none of them did.

“This has never happened before.” Her mother explained, which made Violetta shift uncomfortably on her feet, moving her weight from one foot to the other. “Tales of old speak of the Golden Night for as far back as the creation of this town. Every year, without fail .. Perhaps sometimes it’s been a little bit later than usual ..” When her mother’s words trailed and she looked up nervously, Violetta looked up too, wondering what it was she was trying to look for, or if they would be able to find the answer written in the stars.

Nothing ever was, but she did find some amusement in some of the patterns in the sky that she could see when she played a mental game of connect the dots. “So .. Now what? We go home and try again next year?” Violetta asked, as she tightened her vest a little more around her, feeling the cold of the night starting to slip through, and was grateful for the warm and protective arm that wrapped around her in an effort to shield her from the cold.

“I don’t know …” Her mother mused, frowning, her narrow lips pressed together in silent contemplation. “It is said that the end of The Golden Night would be the end of Myrefall… We would be lost.” She reached for her husbands’ hand, entwining her fingers with his to pull him closer, and find comfort in him, but he looked just as concerned by this development, and with slightly more distance between him and the group he was overhearing, he had to squint to hear better, which made Violetta snort with amusement.

“I think …” Violetta began, a hint of determination in her voice as she spoke, as though she had given this great thought in the past minute or so as they stood there quietly wondering. “I think that the moon just got lost.” she said, with a determined nod, even if she was met with the slightly puzzled expression from her parents. “Think about it!” Violetta carried on, pulling away from her mother to find the man that had started playing his guitar, but had stopped when he had been the only one to start on the music of the night. “For years now, it’s been happening later and later than usual. What if the Moon needs us to play her music, so she knows where to go?” she asked, motioning for the guitar player to start with a new rhythm.

Violetta turned around when she heard the sound of a violin behind her, and one of the townspeople stepped aside from the crowd to comfortably play her instrument, filling the cold air with a hint of warmth. “Yes!” Violetta cheered with a grin, and offered the wary guitar player an accusatory look, who quickly began to play along by the sheer pressure of her judgement. “Yes!” Violetta chirped again, squirming with delight. She moved to the music, swaying gracefully and humming quietly to herself, a wordless song because she was far from creative enough to think of any lyrics to go with it, and wasn’t ready to ruin the beautiful piece that they were creating with lyrics lacking in any sort of sense or reason.

But little by little, more music started to play, and people with more creativity in their bones found the words to sing. One by one, more of the townspeople joined in, singing and dancing, making music and momentarily losing themselves in the absence of the moon that would otherwise have shone her light on them. Violetta wasn’t sure if they believed her, she wasn’t even sure she believed herself, but for the celebration, they didn’t need the moon. They just needed each other.

Violetta stood back for a moment, a little breathless from the song and dance, and folded her arms across her chest. She undid her vest, cold as the night may be, all of this exercise was making her flushed. She took a sip of her wine, and when her mother joined her side, she stole a piece of garlic bread from her plate. A piece that she was about to slip between her lips, when the dark bark of the trees seemed to tickle with the start of a glow. “Mum ..” Violetta breathed, the toast falling from her hand as she pointed at the trees. “It’s working!” she cried out, motioning for the townspeople to look around them, as little by little the light seemed to grow brighter within the trees, within the flowers, within the fountain.

The festivities only grew more intense, as the moon positioned itself right above them, bathing the townspeople in the comforting, golden light.

Myrefall was not lost, the moon was, but they helped her find her way back home.