Chapter Text
In a time of mystic magic there was a shepherd who lived a lonely life high in the mountains, where the air was crisp and all sound was a melancholic nature. Day after day, he tended his sheep, sheared their wool in spring and summer, and guided them to shelter through the biting winters. Only when he ventured to town to sell fleeces did he see other human faces, for the dear fleeting company of the townspeople.
Every night in the quiet of his cabin, the shepherd prayed at his humble altar. He prayed for a bond that could ease his solitude—a connection that would last beyond the seasons’ turning.
On the longest night of the year, the winter solstice draped the mountains in shadow, a fierce blizzard howled through the peaks. Snow battered the cabin, but the shepherd sat huddled by the fire.
A sharp knock startled him. At first, he thought it was the wind playing tricks, but the knock came again, urgent and clear. Rising quickly, he opened the door—and there she stood. A young woman unlike anything the shepherd had ever seen. Her beauty was unearthly, with an innocence only a naive teenager possessed. Her thin black legs jutting from her feathered white drape. Her cheeks, jaw and chin black— and lips painted white— with forehead red stark against the pale swirl of snow. Shepherd stood flabbergasted, the young girl’s neck bent shamefully looking to the older man for understanding.
“Shepherd,” she said, her voice soft and childlike, shaking for help, “please help me.”
“Come in dear child, come in,” he said, stepping back and gesturing toward the warmth of his fire.
The girl shook her head. “I cannot.” She held something close to her chest and stepped forward, placing a small bundle into his arms. The shepherd felt the weight of the swaddled child, cold and fragile.
“Please, take my baby,” the girl pleaded, her voice trembling.
He stared at the child, his heart racing. The baby’s tiny face peeked out from the folds, pale as moonlight, a faint wisp of raven-black hair on his brow. The shepherd’s confusion mingled with panic. “But miss—wait! I—”
“I must go,” she interrupted, stepping back into the swirling snow, her form already beginning to blur in the storm.
“What should I tell baby?” the shepherd called desperately, clutching the child closer to his chest as the wind threatened to steal him away.
The girl turned one last time, her dark eyes tearing sorrow and love. “Tell him that his mother was a crane, and that she loved him more than anything in this world.”
Before he could respond, she vanished into the storm, her form dissolving into a flurry of white feathers and snow.
The shepherd stood there, frozen, the baby’s warmth against his chest the only proof she had been real. Stepping back inside, he closed the door against the storm, his heart forever opened by the miraculous gift he had received.
On the night of the winter solstice, beneath a blanket of stars and swirling snow, the crane maiden left a gift in the shepherd’s arms: a baby swaddled in silken cloth, a quiet blessing whispered into the cold wind. The shepherd named the child Nani , after the delicate pink flowers that blossomed at dawn, their petals a promise of hope and renewal.
As the years passed, the baby grew into a vision of otherworldly beauty. Nani’s raven hair cascaded like an inked ribbon over his shoulders, framing skin as pale as freshly fallen snow, kissed here and there with faint beauty marks that seemed like celestial signatures. His eyes, an enchanting shade of amber grey, held the compassion, a softness melt even the sternest hearts.
The old shepherd tended heard his sheep along the pasture. His guardian dogs watching close by.
At the edges of the pasture Nani plucked wildflowers and herbs, weaving them into small bundles. The sunlight kissed his cheeks, a peachy tint.
As he leaned down to gather a sprig of lavender, a prickle ran down his spine—an inexplicable awareness. He stilled, the bouquet slipping slightly from his hands.
A sense that at the edge of the forest eyes watched him.
Nani lifted his head, scanning the forest with a frown that creased his delicate brow. “Hello?” Nani called softly, his voice caried by the wind. Silence answered.
“Baaah,” his pet goat Melody called to him from behind.
The maiden shook his head, brushing off the feeling as fanciful paranoia. turned back toward the pasture, skipping lightly to where the shepherd waited.
“Look papa," Nani exclaimed, "lavender, and chamomile it’ll be amazing for your bath." The shepherd extended his arms, Nani hugged the old man, Nani's face resting on his father’s chest.
“My sweet Nani, always thinking of your old papa.” The shepherd smiled, rubbing his child’s back.
“All your chores done?”
“Yes papa, I collected the eggs, milked the goat, hung the linens, and mended your winter coat,” Nani yelped, tugging at his father’s arm, “now Papa let me help you.”
The shepherd tried not to tear at the sight of his wonderful son. “Nani, your Papa is a strong man, I didn’t raise you to be so rough doing all this hard labor.”
Nani’s lips curled discontent with his words.
“You go in the house, and finish your studies.”
Nani huffed and puffed, it was the same old tale, the shepherd raised Nani in a domestic and feminine way. Learning to cook, sew, and clean. Which was second nature for the beautiful Nani, but he also raised the child to be an empathetic and caring person.
Nani flopped onto his porch desk the milk goat joining him.
“Oh Melody,” Nani stroked his anxious hands against the goat, “I see how hard it can be for Papa. I might not be as strong as Papa but I can learn I wanna help.”
“Bu-eh-eheh,” Melody chimed in.
At noon the shepherd brought the herd in from pasture, stopping at the desk porch. The father took off his hat before Nani. The child is engrossed in a book.
“Hey, Petal,” the old man’s eyes were soft, “I want you to have the best chance at life beyond me.”
Nani looked up bamboozled, “Papa what are you talking about.”
“I tell you this at least, once a month, but you are a gift for the gods to me.”
“I know Papa, you prayed for me-“
“Yes, and I won’t be here forever so I have to give you the best opportunity.”
Nanigot up from his desk, hugging his father, “Don’t say that papa.”
“Educated, and domestic skills are most important for you right now.” The shepherd kissed his forehead.
The shepherd and Nani went to bed early tomorrow they would head down the mountain for supplies. Shepherd had also talked with the baker about his son and Nani.
At dawn, the family of two got ready for their trip down the mountain.
“Wear this,” the shepherd handed Nani a cream-colored dress embroidered with tiny flowers at the bottom corners. Nani raised an eyebrow perplexed, “Papa, what's going on, why am I wearing this.”
“I wanted to get you something nice, that you didn’t make.”
“Umkay.”
“What, you’ll see.”
The shepherd loaded the wagon with a few fleeces to sell and hitched it to their horse. Nani brought food.
“Petal, are you are you bringing that goat.”
“Yes, papa.”
The shepherd laughed, lifting Melody onto the wagon.
“Don’t laugh papa,” Nani sulked.
The shepherd pinched Nani’s rosy cheek looking adorable in his mittens and balaclava. The shepherd hoisted Nani onto the wagon, starting out for his journey down the mountain.