The Bride of November

My mother named me Yara, in honor of the bright sun that reflects off the snow cover. But how could she know what snow looks like if there hasn't been winter for a hundred years? The only place where the cold still remains is the cursed forest. There lives the last December sorcerer, due to whom winter might one day return. People are doing everything they can to prevent this, sacrificing children born in December. And I turned out to be one of those children.