Work Text:
Somewhere in the wilds of Finland lies a cabin. It sits nestled between the pine trees, its windows overlooking a snow-coated ground. At first glance the cabin appears normal. Its walls are worn with the love of time, its chimney merrily breathes puffs of smoke, and it is lit with the warmth of candles.
When one looks closer, however, one can see there is more to this scene. Flickers of green are interspersed among the candles’ orange. The chimney smoke smells of sweet chamomile and mistletoe. The interior stays warm even amidst the coldest winters.
Opening the door reveals chaos. The walls are painted a clashing mix of green, blue, black, gold, and red. Silver streamers hang from the ceiling. A rainbow quilt rests over a gigantic bed. In the corner of the room sits a large pool of sparkling clear water. There is no discernable kitchen, but a compartment filled with animal corpses occupies the space near the door.
Even more interesting are the cabin’s inhabitants. A wolf races around the room. His fur is dark and his eyes gleam red. He stops atop the bed, grinning, well … wolfishly.
A young woman halts to glare at him. Her hair is jet black and her eyes are a mischievous blue. As she turns, the other half of her body is revealed to be a skeletal spectre. She is no less beautiful for it.
Along the windowsills sneaks a snake. His body is ice-blue but his eyes are bright green. His teeth glisten in the firelight. A young horse walks beside him. Their coat looks like the sky as storm clouds roll in. Their grey tail flicks behind them as they snicker to their companion.
Amidst it all is a tall man. His eyes are green as the magic in the candles. He looks around his home, his children, his salvation. As he throws his head back in laughter, his black hair tumbles down his shoulders.
The neighbors know this family is odd. Sometimes they are awoken at ungodly hours in the morning to hear the children screaming folk songs into the night. The children’s father is a strange one too. He resides within the community, but never fits perfectly. He has a strange, ethereal air to him.
Some people say this is nonsense. The family is a family like any other, despite their quirks. Others avoid the question altogether. If power walks among them, they don’t want to touch it.
But the children, the children know. They see the father with his wild green magic. They see the horse with eight strong legs. They see the figures of myth, and they know.
The old ones still dwell on the Earth.