My mother named me Yara, after 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 hundreds of years?

The only place where the cold is still preserved is the cursed forest. The last December sorcerer lives there, because of whom winter might one day return. People do everything they can to prevent this, sacrificing children born in December. And I turned out to be one of those children.