The Feast of Winter Veil

I've always loved this time of year. Even though most of my life I failed to recognize it. While I was under the control of Sargaras, not a single joyful thought cross my mind, but there were glimpses when I saw the snow falling and heard the carols being sung that I dared to risk the rebellious thought: "Let's be happy."

Winter Veil is a tradition passed down for eons celebrated mainly by the Taurens and the Dwarves. It celebrates the time when Greatfather Winter, a Titan of old, would wander across the earth and veil the ground with his white robe to usher in a time of renewal for all of Azeroth. The Taurens celebrate this season as a reminder to rest and renew under their great druidic forces. The Dwarves celebrate to remember their great genealogy which heralds back to the Titans themselves. The Goblins exploit the season to sell joy and merriment for a pretty penny, but they may be forgiven if the citizens of Azeroth remember what the holiday is all about: a joyous time of renewal and celebration.

This joy is well-founded, indeed. The wintry lands of Northrend are a bitter reminder of how harsh the cold season can be, but it is good to remember that there is a reason for the cold; there is a reason for the bitter sting. Without winter there could be no spring. And while they may be considered equally beautiful, spring brings to life the death, or rest that is brought by winter. But I cannot help but tarry on the thought of winter's death. For the Lich King brings his own version of life, or rather undeath, to the death that he has found at the roof of the world. For all of Azeroth, what would bring true joy and continuous merriment is if spring broke forth and we were given a Savior. Then I think Winter Veil would be truly joyous, because death is nothing without new life, rest is nothing without waking, and winter is nothing without spring.