The War of Seasons

Chapter One: Frostbite

    Bitter cold air bit at his pale face, his lips trembling; despite his will, he was dying. The pathetic sliver of a moon above provided little light for him to navigate in, guiding his griffin and himself in almost pitch-black darkness. The tall, barren trees seemed to look down and mock them. Frustrated at the snow accumulating around his black leather boots and on top of his fur cloak, he cursed and spat at whatever god decided to screw him over, his slightly upturned nose turned red and runny.

"Damnit, this storm is slowing us down," he paused, simmering in his anger, "At this rate, we won't make it to camp until tomorrow afternoon." His snarl was evident to his griffin, him cawing softly in agreeance. The young man continued his pained silence, his steps slowing, the icy cold wind seemed to cut through his bones. Worried for his companion's sake, the griffin pulled at his friend's black fur cloak.

The young man whipped jerked backward, a flat grey glaze over his once bright jade green eyes. "Skyblade, we can't stop here. We will die." Skyblade could now see, in the little light, the disheveled state of his companion, his normally light and vibrant chestnut brown hair plastered to his forehead from cold sweat, his crimson red tunic wrinkled and stiff, and his steel armor shifted into awkward positions. The griffin didn't look any better himself, his feathers were dusted in a layer of freezing ice, and the black leather saddle on his back was shifted to one side from the strong winds. At this point, appearances didn't matter, only getting to camp.

"I know you're hungry and cold, I am too. But if we waste any more time we won't make it," he paused, huffing, "My men will have to find our bodies under five feet of snow, and go into battle against the Winter Army without a general," he turned back around, pulling on Skyblade's lead, and trudged forward, his feet sinking into the deep, sludgy ice as he walked, "I'd never be able to live with myself if we abandoned them."

Skyblade nodded his head, continuing on the uncertain path in cold, bitter darkness. He had been by the General's side since he was too young to hold a sword, and he wouldn't leave him now. Skyblade's mouth longed for meat and a warm fire, and his weary stomach agreed, growling loudly. He ignored it, willing himself to stay strong for his companion. Chittering hopefully, the griffin tried to build the spirits of the young man. Green eyes brightening, he smiled slightly behind his hooded cloak, then quickly returned to his stoic expression.

The elements were not playing fair, instead of the storm letting up, the sheets of ice came down more violently, blowing the strongest pine trees sideways, slowing down the painful pushing forward of the pair of soldiers. Skyblade's eyes stung from the barrage of snow and sharp ice blowing into his face, and the General's lips were now a dark tint of blue and purple. They desperately needed to find camp, fire, and food. His brows were furrowed into a deep scowl, refusing to relax.

"This isn't fast enough!" he yelled, "The snow's building quicker than we can walk, we need to get off the ground." He turned around quickly, throwing up snow from around his feet, and pulled off his hood. "Are you still able to fly?" Skyblade cawed lightly and stretched his wings, the tufts of snow falling off the white and black speckled feathers. The General grabbed the coal-black leather harness around his neck and pulled himself up onto the massive beast. Barren ash-grey trees reached towards the dim heavens, clouds drifting away to reveal the north star ahead of them.

"It's all you Skyblade," he rubbed the mighty beast's feathery head, "let's go."

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She was running quicker than a hare, growing thick layers of vines behind her to slow her pursuers, slippery green roots reaching across the forest floor, trying to grasp the snow and ice blanketed over the dirt. The men chasing after her slashed and chopped at her protection with their swords, but slowed their pace. Yes, I have a chance, she thought, growing more layers of vines with her glowing, golden hands, ensuring her escape in the cover of the Winter Forest's darkness. Darting off to her left, she successfully lost the soldiers in the thick, dead undergrowth. Her chest ached from her labored breathing, breath visible in the crisp air. A tall, hollow pine tree stood over her, a hole at its base just large enough for her to climb through. It was pitch black inside, shadowed under the cloudy night sky of the deathly cold forest.

Pushing her hair back, she climbed gently through the hole, careful not to make any noise. She held her hands to her mouth, waiting to hear voices in the droning silence. A single tear fell from her honey brown eyes, filled not with fear, but with a burning hatred.

She heard them yelling outside her dark hiding spot, their armor clanking as they tore through the winter trees. Peeking outside, she saw her bare footsteps lead right to her and panicked, placing her glowing, golden palms on the snow, the same green vines curling up around her fingertips. The shouting and clanging got closer, they found her path, and she was most certainly dead.

"There! Her tracks," one of the Winter soldiers shouted, celebrating his find. More shouting, more clanging of armor and swords. "We know you're here, princess," he said, drawing closer to the tree, "Why don't you come out, easy like. Your grandparents want to see you." His sinister voice made her want to vomit.

A hand violently reached into her tree, grabbing around, feeling for an arm or hair to pull on, connecting with her naked foot. The Winter guards drug her out in the snow, hands desperate to grab onto the crumbling tree bark; she fought and struggled violently, a rumble emerging from all around them. The winter forest was alive.

She looked at them, her piercing eyes seeming to emit a faint gold light, lids drawn closely together into a fierce squint. "Well, send a message for me, then," her head lowered, her voice poison ivy as she spoke. The men chuckled, ripping her from the ground, binding her hands together with iron shackles that sizzled on her wrists. She hissed as they burned her skin, another chained shackle clamped around her neck. It burned like hellfire, already leaving permanent marks; yet, she was not shaken.

The forest continued to rumble around them, drawing worried expressions from the pair of Winter soldiers. "Whatever you're trying to do, stop," he stuttered, jerking her chain forward, causing her to stumble into the cold snow.

"What are you going to do about it? Kill me?" she laughed maniacally, the trees around her started to bend downwards, reaching their limbs down towards the guards. The limbs wrapped around them as they stood there, horrified, allowing the princess's chains to break away from their grasp. The coarse wood creaked and moaned as it constricted, splintering into sharp thorns that penetrated their exposed skin. Another tree seemed to grow from the icy ground, wrapping itself around her bindings, breaking her hands away from the sizzling iron.

The guards gaped at her, terrified, squirming as hard as they could as the tree restricted further. She chuckled, commanding the branches to bring them closer to her, their faces turning purple from the tightening branch around their necks.

"Please, I-I have a family, two little girls, just let us go," one stuttered as the princess stared at them silently, smiling.

"Yeah, we won't tell them where you went!"

She considered their pleas, turning over her choices in her head as they sat in a deafening silence. "And did you ever consider that I had a family?"

"We were just doing our jobs, miss. We didn't-"

"Didn't what?" She spat, "There is no excuse, your people never gave a damn what you did to me, what you did to my home." She nodded, stepping back, the golden glow returning in her eyes. "You must pay - you will be an example."

"No, Princess, Pease! We-" A crunch echoed off the ground, and the white snow beneath them turned a deep, warm red. She huffed, her eyes and hands no longer filled with that dangerously magical golden glow. Another lone tear rolled down her soft olive cheek as looted the two bodies, taking a sword and a deep blue wool cloak to keep herself warm and safe.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before running deeper into the dark forest.