The cold winter air still clings to the streets of Sorrol when you come across Albert in the square. He’s leaning over a newly installed wooden post, carving knife in hand and concentration etched on his face. As you approach, you notice the meticulously engraved markings on the wood: a pair of intertwined letters, small messages interwoven with hearts or some symbols. The same can be seen on each post placed throughout the square.
“Albert?” you ask, leaning in to observe his work. “What exactly are you doing? What are all these posts for?”
The builder looks up, his face lighting up with a smile before his gaze returns to the post.
“It’s for Heartbinding Day, of course!” he exclaims as if it were obvious, only to let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle when he sees you raise an eyebrow. “Ah, right. I forgot this is your first year in the village. You see, people give me their initials and a message, and I carve them here. Then, on Heartbinding Day, they go out searching for their initials on these posts. It’s a little gesture for our loved ones.”
“Wow,” you say, admiring each carved stroke on the wood. “We didn’t do anything like this in Aelmere. Is it a local tradition?”
Albert nods. “Yeah. My grandfather started it, actually. Apparently, it was during a tough year, and he came up with this idea to lift the town’s spirits. He took some wooden logs, cut them into small posts, and went out to carve messages for his neighbours. From then on, he did it every year. Then he passed the honour to my father, and now Leire and I do it,” he explains with a broad smile.
You chuckle. “Leire? Seriously? I can’t picture her doing something like this.”
“You’d be surprised, but Leire loves this holiday, no matter how much she tries to pretend otherwise,” he replies with a laugh of his own. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the wood he was carving, letting out a sigh. “Unfortunately, she’s busy with guard duty this year. She’s on patrol these days, so I have to do it alone this time. She was only able to help me a little this morning.”
“Can I help?” you ask.
Albert blinks, surprised by your offer. “Really?”
You shrug. “Of course. It seems like a beautiful tradition, and I wouldn’t want anyone to miss out on a heartfelt message just because you didn’t have time to finish them all.”
“Well, if you want… You could hold the posts while I carve,” he says as a smile returns to his face. Albert glances at the carving knife in his hand and, after a moment, offers it to you. “Or… if you feel confident, you could try it yourself.”
“I’d be honoured.”
You take the knife, and Albert patiently guides you, showing you how to hold the blade, how to let the wood yield with minimal effort. Under his instruction, you begin carving the letters carefully, feeling the rough texture and the delicate nature of each stroke.
“Do you always do this alone? You and Leire, I mean. Does no one else help?” you ask, breaking the silence as you trace a curve into the wood.
Albert nods slowly. “Yeah. No one’s ever really stopped to offer help before. But honestly, I don’t mind. I like that it’s something just between Leire and me.”
“And yet, you’re letting me take part.”
Albert lets out a soft laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Well, in a way, it feels like you’re part of the family, MC. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“Not at all,” you reply with a chuckle as you catch the faint blush on his cheeks. You finish another post and pick up the next message. “Tell me, have you received any special messages from your ‘admirers’?”
Albert laughs at your teasing tone. “I’m afraid it’s been a long time since I had admirers like that. Sure, every year someone has a message for me, but they’re always just thanking me for my work. Which I do appreciate, don’t get me wrong. But the last time I got a more… personal one was from my ex, and that was a long time ago.”
“What about from a friend?” you ask as you carve a heart into the wood.
“Maybe once in a while. Some people do dedicate messages to a family member or a friend, but it’s not very common. Most people who take part in this do it in a romantic way,” he explains. “Leire usually dedicates one to me every year, but she gives it to me in private. She doesn’t like making it public.”
You nod, humming in understanding. Hours pass between quiet laughter, gentle corrections, and the steady sound of the knife against the wood. But what he said, that it had been a long time since someone dedicated a truly personal message to him, lingers in your mind.
Then, an idea sparks.
When the last message is finished, an impulse takes hold of you. While Albert is busy gathering everything, you take one of the leftover posts without him noticing, and without thinking too much about it, you carve something for him.
"For Albert, whose kindness builds more than houses, it builds smiles. Life is better with you in it."
Seeing it carved fills you with an unexpected warmth. You set the post aside, hiding the message, and follow Albert to store the remaining wood. When he bids you farewell, you quietly take the post with his message. Now, you just have to decide where to place it.
---
Heartbinding Day arrives with joyful excitement. Couples stroll through town hand in hand, searching for their messages. But you’re looking for someone in particular. When you finally spot Albert, you approach him.
“Go to the post by the fountain,” you say with a wide, excited smile. “There’s something for you.”
Then you step away, far enough to watch without being seen. Albert reaches the post, his eyes scanning the wood until he finds the message. You see it on his face before he even smiles, the surprise first, then understanding, and finally, a soft curve of his lips, so wide and radiant that it could light up the entire square.
And when he smiles, you realize that your heart has responded in a way you had never noticed before.