There were a number of reasons behind this - one was the rather obvious issue of belief, another was that she was never quite sure if they were there or not. But mostly it was because she wanted to keep them, and keep them to herself. God knows what would happen if she disrupted the fine border of secrecy.
Although Rebecca only became acutely aware of them when she was nine, she guessed that the rings of light had been there her whole life. When they chose to appear, that is. It only happened when there was snow on the ground, usually in the last week before Christmas, and sometimes around mid-January. They were very beautiful, these rings. Made entirely of tiny spheres of white light, they varied in size, starting with ones that could fit around your waist like a fat, yet delicate hula hoop, and ending with ones that could comfortably rest in the palm of your hand.
They would appear in the most unexpected places, like the undisturbed patch of white next to the clocktower, or the tiny glade in what was left of the nearby forest. Once Rebecca discovered a few hovering around the edges of her ice-cold balcony on the fifth floor.
The rings had always been a mystery, and were just as much of a mystery to the now twelve-year-old girl. Usually that didn't bother her that much. It was easier to simply accept their presence, partly because they always seemed to offer a kind of reassurance, a metaphorical warmth. In return, Rebecca treated them with a great deal of respect. She would always watch from a distance, sometimes standing in one spot for hours, reveling in the only proof this desperate little heart of a child clung to, of all the imaginary wonders she had ever known. It seems that way, doesn't it? It could all be real, the evidence peeking at us from behind a corner, but, until it appears, we must carry on with our serious lives. The world around her would grow dark with the end of another short winter day. The closest she had ever gotten to these luminous wonders was the time when, tired of building snow forts, she had laid down in the snow to watch the sky. She had not fallen asleep, that she was sure of, but the feeling was very much like starting awake when the rings began to appear above her, one by one, moving ever so slightly in their own little dance. She had been tempted to reach out and touch one, but, as easy as it would have been, she didn't dare. Instead she lay there, thinking, watching, until the rings had disappeared, and long after, until she finally realised it was late and she was freezing, and it was time to hurry home.
***
"My Lord."
"Yes, Kendar?"
"It appears that the lune spirits have been amusing themselves in the Otherlands for longer than we first thought."
"How long, Kendar?"
"Several decades. Although it is hard to tell precisely, Una is certain that the number of years surpasses seventy."
"Has anyone noticed?"
"Not that we know of, my Lord."
"I suppose that's good. Do keep an eye out for me, will you, Kendar?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Thank you. You may go."
"Yes, my Lord."
