Darkness carved in bone

Chapter 33

Helen

They slept through the day, until the sun had set over the horizon, painting the darkening sky in colors of orange and gold. Helen had made sure she had been lying in the sun, and Ten in the shadows, so she could absorb the energy the sun filled her with. Combined with both the restorative sleep, only disrupted by their lovemaking, she felt rather energized compared to before.

They ventured out on the ice again, as darkness once more carved its mark on the sky. The illuminated path still lay before them. Snow had started to fall in lazy streams from the dark clouds that covered the night sky and gathered in Ten's uncovered hair. His hands were occupied with the reins, so Helen took her hand and brushed some of the fallen snow away from his corn blonde hair. He gave her a shining smile in thanks.

"Why does this path exist?" Helen asked. When she thought about it, it gave no reason for the Sòlungr to use this much resources on clearing a path to the dark territories. Perhaps some lived in these dark woods and used it as a path to the village they had left behind? Or perhaps the Vandrars used it when they ventured north?

Ten steered Shiny slightly back in center off the path, before he replied. "I think in old times that this path was an important bridge between the north and the south of our lands, perhaps the only bridge. But I don't really know why the Sòlung of the village keep it intact, it's not really in use any longer."

It was as if his words became true as he spoke when the path abruptly closed before them. Every pit of dark powder ceased to exist, as the dark path became nothing but an endless field of grey and dark snow.

Helen felt her breath catching in her throat; her eyes had gotten accustomed to the light from the pits, and what lay ahead of them was utter and still darkness. The darkness was so absolute that it was difficult to see where the darkened snow ended, and the black horizon began. It didn't even seem as if the stars could breach this darkness, as she could only see a starless sky beyond. This darkness reminded her chillingly about the darkness she had experienced in the deepest and darkest parts of the forest surrounding her village.

There was no doubt, they had reached the dark territories.

Goosebumps formed across every inch of her skin as she looked at the darkness ahead. Shiny had instinctively stopped before the masses of snow that now stood between them and their destination. The lazy and flowing snow from before turned into biting and stabbing snow and shards of ice as the wind increased in strength across the meadow of ice and snow in front of them.

Helen looked up at Ten and noticed both the slight relax in his body, but also the anticipation in his eyes. He was home, but he also knew that the road home would not be easy. Not for him, not when so much of their land's future lay in his hands as well.

He clicked his tongue to make Shiny move again, and the horse did as commanded. Shiny pushed forward reaching the same speed as before, but immediately as they reached the snow-covered planes, their speed lessened greatly. Shiny let out an annoyed grunt, and Helen could hear how the horse began panting as it worked to push them forward. The snow before them was both too heavy and light at the same time. The thick layer of freshly fallen snow was not compact enough to carry them, which forced the sleigh to wade slowly through the snow.

Helen turned her head back and looked at the fading embers of the enlightened path behind them. With a heavy heart she realized that she might not ever return to the light, to the parts of her land where the sun shone her magnificent gift upon them. That this might have been it. That the rest of her days on this earth could be covered in darkness.

She looked back up at Ten and reminded herself of the things she had found and won in that darkness. That darkness was not so bad after all. Perhaps even as much a part of her soul as the sun was. But she knew she needed both, their lands needed both, and she was the one who had to make sure it stayed like that.