The Seeress

Chapter Nineteen

Harold heaved and hoed again and again. The wind is breaking his back, as it carries all of his equipment. He couldn't even open his eyes properly, as the wind gushes to him like tiny blocks of wood. As he barely looked towards the front, Erik hopped through the snow. As if it was a puddle to him. His vision was merely white light with his skin withered as if they were repeatedly stabbed by hail. 

"Slow down, damn it," Harold cursed as the Nord seemingly did not care about his plight. If anything, it would seem that Erik would want to abandon him. Except that all he did was merely stand there and have his eyes frolic throughout the land. As if his eyes had the luxury to do that. 

Harold was not so lucky, or resilient for that matter, to do such things. His fingers already were frozen stiff, and could break off from his body if they could. All Harold could do is to hug himself tightly, his body trembling and leaning forward in pain. 

"Just... bit more... make it..."

Harold didn't even understand what he was saying, even though Erik was only a few paces from him. He turned to see his cousin, the one who was getting it the worst. Edwin looked almost dead, his breaths hissed out of him pathetically as he heaved much heavier than Harold. Edwin looked sick, his body almost collapsing to the ground.

"Few more... steps, son," John said, who, unlike his children, did not succumb easily to the cold. His many years being alive included his service in Nordlund, it was no doubt that he would persist this long. "Come on lads! I can see light from here!"

"What bloody light!?" Harold yelled, and as if on cue, he saw a small, yellow circle in front. Harold lagged his feet, his mind racing back and forth as he wheezed away to the blizzard. Only a few minutes in, his body was at death's door. His eyes themselves were covered with snow as if the world was cut off from them, and they are cursed to roam in the barren wastelands with strong winds.

"Help.... help," Harold thought, his legs shaking as Erik's voice becomes more and more distant. His breath melted his own face as his legs collapsed. He kept kneeling, and he kept muttering under his breath.

"God... help me..." 

He said as a halo in front came nearer to him. The halo nearly blinded Harold, as a hand white and bright was lifted down to his body. Harold could barely raise his head to see the halo, as all that seemed to him was merely bright light.

"Come with me... son," a voice said out, as Harold almost immediately recognized that voice. It was rather kind, despite his voice being terribly coarse. He breathed in again, shaking his head as he gripped the snow in anger.

"Not now, father," Harold whispered with his dry throat.

"There is no shame... come." the voice cried out again; Harold knelt his head against the snow, as warm hands emerged to grab his body from the ground. He felt his body gently carried from the cold, lifeless lands. 

"Come with me damn it!" another voice was said, as Harold was back on his feet. Oddly enough, he did not recognize that voice, but it did not matter as his body was thrust towards the yellow circle. The air became warmer as the outside world became quieter. 

"Close the door!" the man who held him up said as it was done, as suddenly as if the winds stopped themselves. Harold opened his eyes, finding himself with a fire in front. He crawled to it as he raised his hands for warmth. 

"My, what are you doing back there," the man asked, as Harold looked at the back, seeing him to be wearing woollen clothes like him, and was dark-haired. He turned around to look at what is the insides of the cottage. The air was fresh while mixed with smoke and haze, and the cottage itself has nearly crowded with half a dozen people already.