Eternal Winter

Cold Beginnings: Part I

I first remember the cold. The cold that rested against my skin. The rough feeling on the back of my hand against tiny, icy points. 

Then, it was the warmth. The hot trickle of something running down the side of my face. The dwindling heat of my core. The last dregs of adrenaline seeped from me and left me breathless. 

My ears roared but heard nothing beyond and I could smell nothing except the cool chill of winter. My mouth was full of copper. My fingers, stiff and numb. Same were my toes, my legs, my face. The cold began to fade, the warmth began to dissipate. I was still. I was alone. Yet, I was awake.

My eyelids crept open, allowing my blurry vision to see the great, white, empty expanse surrounding me. White snow gently fell from the gray clouds that sat far above. My head swam and the cold beat my tired eyes closed again. A deep ache pounded at the back of my mind and moved down into each of my frozen joints. A low moan echoed back to me. I tried to force myself upright, but there was no function in my body. I was awake. I was aware. But, I wasn't able.

As the cold fell away and cradled me in it's wet embrace, I heard the distant crunch of snow. Individual footsteps that neared closer and closer. I was able to open my eyes once more to see a dark figure approach, but my vision could not focus on the details. There was little I could see as my eyes pulled shut once more. The sound stopped next to me. As my consciousness faded, I heard a gruff voice, "Well, this is certainly unexpected."

A rough hand pressed against my head and my eyes immediately popped open. I thrashed about on the bed I laid on, desperate to see where I was. There was a jolt in my body followed by a wave of soreness that travelled from my head down to the soles of my feet. I groaned and stopped, sinking back into the warm pillows. My shaking hand gripped at my head. As I pressed my palm down, I could feel the thick covering of gauze. I drew in a quick breath and quickly patted at it. It wrapped around the top of my head, pinning my damp hair. Other than these obvious indicators, I had no sense of the passage of time. I could've only just arrived. It could have been days later.

Hesitantly, I glanced to my right, to see an elderly man with crinkled eyes and deep laugh lines. He looked at me with concern and waited patiently. In a hoarse voice, I managed to crackle out a few words, "Who...are you?" There was a lump in my throat that made it difficult to speak any more, but efforts I made to swallow the dry lump were useless.

The man stood and walked across the room to where a pitcher and cup awaited. He returned and offered the water. I eyed him suspiciously as I took it in both hands. The water was warm in the cup and pleasant to hold. He gave a small chuckle. "I suppose it is only fair you be wary, considering the state I found you in." I looked at him once more through half-lidded eyes.

Finally, thirst won out over caution and I began to gulp down the drink. He set a gentle hand on my shoulder, his voice quiet, "Slowly, child, else you make yourself sick." I pulled the much-needed drink away from my greedy lips and gave a small nod before taking small sips. It was painful at first, but after my fourth glass, my head began to clear, though, the ache hardly faded.

I gripped the half-empty cup in my hands and cleared my throat. "Who are you?" I restated.

He gave me a soft. pained smile. "I suppose you were but a baby, if I recall correctly--now, you look much like your mother." He creakingly sank into the chair at the bedside once he realized I wasn't going to ask for more water. "I am the Great Wizard Crafter, friend to the Lotus family."

There was a momentary sting in my head at the surname. The corners of my mouth drooped slightly, and I felt my heart clench painfully. "Do you...know," I asked, my voice hushed where I could barely hear myself. "Do you...know...me?" My breathing trembled. "Do you know who I am?" I stared at the man with wide eyes, desperate.

My response removed the softness from his face. In its place was shock. His gentleness returned with a deep frown and his glassy eyes bore into mine. The person he saw...I didn't even know her. He rested a calloused palm against my cheek. His voice broke, "Oh, child..."

Then, I threw caution to the wind. One after another, like a stack of dominoes, my mind broke down. Falling against the elderly man, he who knew nothing more than myself, I let the forces be free. I cried out. I screamed out. My voice grew hoarse and my eyes grew sore. Any water I had consumed was gone through the thousands of tears I shed. Through it all, the elderly man held me and comforted me until I fell unconscious from exhaustion once more.

Weeks passed.

They blurred together until I could not remember one from the next. Most of the time, I had laid in the wool-lined bed, slowly recuperating with minimal strength and energy. It was frustrating and disheartening to be confined to the seat. Yet, I couldn't find reason to do otherwise.

The elderly man taught me a great many things; he became a self-imposed teacher. He taught me of the world, of the Kingdom of Mysti, I had awoken in. He taught me of his magic, the Art of Crafting, and all the other magics. He taught me about the magicians of the world. He taught me as a means to connect me to world I had forgotten and lost. He taught me in order to keep my attention from anger, from sadness, from bitterness, and from emptiness. He taught me so I may not be ignorant of the circumstances I had been reborn in. Of a winter that would never cease and of soldiers and bandits who abuse the populace to their advantage. These small stories stoked the tiny embers within me until I was ready to stoke it myself.

That day didn't come until late in my stay. When the room in the desolate log cabin became my home, the warming fireplace, my ally, and the ever-falling snow, my enemy. The bed became another part of me, the only part of me I knew. Teacher—the elderly man—had taken to the seat that remained beside my bedside at all times.

In his hands today, was a dull gray lump of cloth. Upon a closer inspection, it was a hat with a line of gray stitching that ran up one side. He set it in my lap, and said, "I found this with you." I just stared at it for a moment and listened, as I had grown accustomed to. He went on, "It was covered in blood and badly ruined. I have been cleaning it and tending it when I have had time."

"But...it's not like I know—"

He placed a hand on mine and looked at me solemnly. "No, but that is not to say it isn't important." He retracted his hand and stood up from the creaky chair onto creaky knees. "It is yours, child."

With that, he walked around the corner out of the room. I cocked my head and gave the hat a long stare. I trailed a finger along the taut stitches he had made. They were tidy and aligned with the fabric's striations. I picked it up and inspected it more closely.

A shot went through my head. My vision went dark followed by a series of flashes. One after another in rapid succession. I could hardly tell what each flash depicted. There were glimpses of other people, of other creatures, of other places. Moments that I couldn't understand. Moments that vanished as soon as they appeared. In the background were whispers. Incomprehensible and hushed. Ever-present and daunting.

My head pulsed and it slowed. In razor sharp focus I was surrounded by that empty clearing Teacher found me in. I blinked and was surrounded by faceless people that stood knee deep in the snow. An arm lifted and came down and...nothing. A small boy...on an empty street. His wide eyes stared through me...then was gone. There was sunlight, bright and blinding as it peeked through clouds, then snowfall. Desolate snowfall that came down and down and down and whispered as it landed on the ground. It whispered words. It whispered names. It whispered...

I gasped as the world slammed back into focus. My breathing came too quickly, and my head spun. A tingle in my fingertips travelled up to my elbows and slowly faded as my breathing came under control. There was nothing that could stop me, though. I had to know!