Eternal Winter

Ringing Fortune: Part III

The two of us meandered down the decorated, bustling streets and took in the sights. So many festivities were going on, it was hard to keep my head on straight! Yet, reminders of what may be were never far from earshot.

A couple smoking off to the side of the street spoke in hushed tones as they kept an eye on a playful group of children tumbling through the snow drifts. Their faces were somber and gave little mind to Sammy and me as we passed by.

"Merciful heavens, I still can't believe it's been a year," one murmured quietly. "At least, the children are able to still find joy in this time."

"It's easy to forget this blasted Eternal Winter in a time where its normal," the other one muttered in return.

I pressed my lips in a firm line, not wishing to be reminded of my own defect. There was no yearning in me for a season of warmth, for it was not a desire I could recall. Sammy pulled my attention away before it could delve too deep. We continued the rest of our day focusing on the joyous atmosphere instead.

As dinnertime approached, the sun had dipped below the horizon a while ago, but a good number of stalls were still open and people were still out. We took a seat off to the side where it wasn't as busy and ate our warm meal and desserts. All the while, Sammy told me of the festivities held were he—we grew up. He finally encroached upon the topic of gifts and I took the opportunity to present him with mine.

He paused mid-sentence and looked between the small bundle and me before taking it gently with both hands. "Is this...for me?"

"Of course it is!" I exclaimed. "Now, open it."

"You mean, it's more than just the cloak?" he stammered. "Lyra, I—"

"Oh, hush," I commented, waving him off. "Don't keep up the suspense any longer or I'll keel over."

"Okay, all right," he agreed. "But first, take this." He pulled free a tiny package from his pocket and set it into my hands.

"But I thought that breakfast was your gift?" I asked, surprised more than anything.

He grinned and began to carefully unfold the cloak. "Well, you'll not be the only one giving two today."

I waited to unwrap my gift until I saw him reach the center. His face beamed. Immediately, he unsheathed the blade. He began to murmur the optics underneath his breath, "Heavier than a kitchen knife, but well-balanced as a weapon. Hilt made of unpolished, quality leather—good grip. Made with steel imported from...Fenwyr?" At this point he had it tilted and close up as he read the imprint that ran the along the base of the blade. His eyes flicked to me, wide with admiration and awe. "Lyra, how did you get this? It must've...wow, it must've cost a fortune!"

I gave a quick glance over my shoulder and shushed him a bit. "Now, now," I whispered. "The price was nothing I wouldn't give for your protection. Besides," I carefully lifted up the present by its long chain. "It can't compare to everything you've given me."

I pulled the dangling object near and rested it flat against my palm. I flipped the top of it open and revealed a compass. A small, black needle wavered for a moment before it settled on a point. There was a shot through my head, and images flashed in my mind. Snippets of peppered brown hair and warm brown eyes. Images decorated with whispers carried on a gentle breeze, in a solid voice, in a comforting kiss on my brow. With them came a sense of remembrance that fell just outside my reach. Too quick to process. And too quickly gone.

Sammy spoke up for me, "It was Dad's."

My head snapped up at him. My eyes wide as he stared at the object with a soft, sorrowful smile. I shook my head immediately. "I can't take this from you."

I began to push it into his hands, but he only curled them away and shook his head. "I want you to have it," he said, insistent. "He always said...as long as I had it, I could always find my way home." He lifted his eyes to meet mine. "And that's exactly what you'll need with your terrible sense of direction."

With a dumbfounded stare, unable to even attempt a reproach, I accepted it. I clasped it shut and tucked it into my tunic's breast pocket, clipping the other end of the chain to the pocket itself. It sat heavy against my heart and I could understand Sammy's unspoken, secondary meaning, that the man had been as much my father as he had been Sammy's. Even if I didn't remember him.

I let out a quiet sigh. With a glance down either side of the street, I saw the already thinning crowd here had cleared out even more. I gestured Sammy down one of the side alleyways. We crept between dustbins and ducked beneath cracked windows with various sorts of merriment spilling out. We came upon the small courtyard I had happened upon earlier in our stay. It was encompassed by the surrounding buildings and closed off from most onlookers. The noise covered any we had made, but I still held a finger to my lips as I pulled free my staff from its holster at my hip.

"I've been practicing this," I whispered. "Hold on to me, Sammy. And keep an eye out for anyone else."

He shoved the last of dinner's garbage into his pocket before he clamped onto my offered hand. A giddy expression on his face, even as his eyes darted around.

I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. The wood warmed to my touch quickly, and the wind responded favorably as well. I could feel the curls of wind lick up the sides of my legs first. Then, it was around my waist and in my hair. Finally, the Earthen ground fell away and we were weightless.

My eyes opened and I glanced at Sammy. He had the widest grin that matched one of my own. My mind clicked back into focus when we wobbled for a moment, but still, we stayed upright.

"What do you say we take this to the skies?" I said eagerly. Sammy only nodded.

I willed the wind to take us higher, beyond the tops of the houses and over the peaks of chimneys. We hovered above the winter-clad town of Deliao and took in all of its beauty. The innumerable decorations of tethered, colored lights matched with the various, metallic bells made everything appear to sparkle. A nearby cathedral was playing songs and singing with the tiny instruments. We flew closer when a tower's bell began to ring out, to signal the midnight end of the holiday.

I glanced at Sammy and saw him yawn. I couldn't help but do the same. The nap had given me enough of a reservoir to accomplish this task, but I wouldn't be able to keep this up for an indefinite period. "We should probably land and get back to the inn."

"Thanks, Lyra," Sammy murmured.

"Thank you, Sammy," I replied. "For joining me on this journey."

Our feet touched to the snow-covered yard behind the inn we were staying in. Our conspicuous, source-less tracks disappeared from the snow with each step towards the street. Even still, there was little we could have done to prepare what already awaited us. Or rather...who was waiting.