Chapter 5: A Christmas Card

Roman

The first thing that struck me about Lumi was her unwavering cheerfulness. It was like a beam of sunlight cutting through the gloom of the timber mill, bright and unyielding. I watched her from a distance, her bright red sweater a stark contrast against the muted colors of the mill. She moved with an energy that was almost infectious, her smile never wavering, her laughter echoing through the halls. It was grating to my grumpy soul, yet I found myself unable to look away.

I hadn't really wanted to hire her but I could tell by the look on my brother's face that she had already cast a spell on him so I reluctantly agreed. Standing by the window of my office, the cold glass pressing against my forehead, I observed her as she talked to one of the workers on the floor. Her hands flew about excitedly, gesturing wildly as she explained something. The worker, a gruff male named Tom, was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a sight I hadn't seen in a long time—Tom smiling. The mill was a place of hard work and stoicism, not laughter and cheer. But in a single day, this little elf was changing that, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I turned away from the window, my boots echoing on the old, scuffed wooden floor as I paced the length of my office. The room was sparse, the walls lined with maps and charts, the desk piled high with papers. It was a reflection of my life—ordered, controlled, devoid of warmth. I liked it that way. It was safe, predictable. But Lumi was a wildcard, a variable I couldn't control, and it made me uneasy.

I sat down at my desk, the old wood of the chair creaking under my weight. I tried to focus on the paperwork in front of me, but my mind kept drifting back to Lumi. Her smile, her laughter, her warmth—it was all so foreign, so different from the life my brother and I had built here. But I found myself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. I knew I should be wary of the fire. I had seen what happened when people got too close to the flame—they got burned.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Ryker standing in the doorway, his expression soft, his eyes warm. He was known as the more approachable of the two of us, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve. I envied him for that, but I also feared for him. He was too open, too trusting. He'd been hurt too many times.

"Hey, Roman," he said, stepping into the office. "I was just talking to Lumi. She's something else, isn't she?"

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming on the desk. "She's certainly different," I said, my voice gruff.

Ryker chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "That's an understatement. She's like a breath of fresh air. She's already made a difference around here. The workers love her."

I raised an eyebrow, my skepticism evident. "They love her because she's new and shiny. It won't last."

Ryker shook his head, his smile never wavering. "You're too cynical, Roman. She's genuine. She cares about people, and they can feel that. It's not just about being new and shiny. It's about being real."

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Rein it in, Ryker. You're too open, too trusting. She's an elf, for crying out loud. She's not from our world. She won't stay."

Ryker's expression softened, and he stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I know you're just trying to protect me, Roman. But I'm a big boy. I can handle myself."

I looked into my brother's eyes, so much like my own but with a sincerity and warmth that mine lacked. I envied him for that. Sometimes. I nodded, my voice gruff. "Just be careful, Ryker. Don't go falling for her."

Ryker smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It may be too late for that, brother. But I'll be careful. I promise."

He left the office, the door clicking shut behind him. I sat there for a moment, my thoughts a whirlwind of doubt and fear. I didn't want to see Ryker get hurt, but I also didn't want to see him to be like me--closed off to most people. He was too good for that, too pure. He deserved happiness.

I stood up, my boots echoing on the wooden floor as I made my way out of the office. I needed to clear my head, to get away from the chaos of the mill and the confusion of my thoughts. I stepped outside, the cold air taking my breath away for a moment. It was a welcome sensation, however, grounding me, bringing me back to reality. I breathed in the crisp air, filling my lungs and scenting the wind for any threats.

Nothing untoward detected, I continued through the town, the snow crunching under my boots, the lights twinkling around me. Frostpeak was a picturesque town, a place of warmth and cheer, but it was also a place of hard work and hard living. It was a place where people kept their heads down and their hearts guarded. It was a place where I felt safe, where I felt in control.