Autumn's Fall

I. The Minister of Winter

Faded, pale-blue eyes stared back into hers. The only difference between them was that one pair belonged to the living, the other belonged to the portrait at which she was gazing wistfully. Behind the glass was the official painting, and last portrait, of her recently deceased mentor and predecessor.

Had it really been nearly half a year now since her mentor's passing? That day of the winter solstice, the day she had taken up her new position as the Minister of Winter, was the day that all celebrations had been cut short when her mentor had suddenly collapsed, just moments before midnight. She never rose again.

It had been so sudden, everything about these last few years had happened so quickly. Was it really only two years ago now that she had realized she no longer needed food? That doctor's visit had been long, so long she'd been afraid she had some serious illness. But the doctor had simply whisked her off to the complex of the Ministers, that lone tower, standing tall and regal above all the land. She had rarely left it since.

A window to her right, large enough for her to walk through comfortably, provided the only light in this particular chamber. They liked natural lighting in this place-- large windows were everywhere you looked. Most were open to let in the late summer breeze. The days were long enough that one hardly needed any light before going off to sleep in the evenings.

Autumn was coming soon. The thought of it sent a little shiver of anticipation and fear down her spine. Her hand felt for the hilt of her sword, the cool, familiar metal comforting in her grasp.

In her heart, she could feel the whisper of the pull. Her mentor had warned her that it would increase slowly each day, growing until she would no longer be able to resist it. But she would not be alone, both of the other ministers would be coming with her as they were also pulled along to the place of Autumn's Fall.

This happened around once every ten years, and there was nothing she knew that could stop it. Not that they wanted to be stopped--it was a necessary evil.

But she knew so little about it. The other ministers seemed so unwilling to talk about it. What was it they were afraid of? What was there that pulled them so?

Movement showed in the reflection of the painting before her. Someone had entered the room behind her, but she need pay them no mind. All the servants here seemed unwilling to talk to her. Indeed, there was almost no conversation here except when the ministers gathered together to drink or when counsel was taken or asked of them. 

The other ministers had both of their hands full of requests at this time of year. Winter was her domain and busy time. This year she would be alone and at full strength. It frightened her to think of such things, but she would listen as her mentor had taught her and do her best to help.

Something touched the hem of her robe. She hadn't realized how close the servant was behind her. She couldn't see who it was in the reflection as her own face blocked her view.

Suddenly, a hand clenching a cloth came into sight so quickly she had no time to duck before it was clamped tightly against her face, covering her eyes, muffling her mouth, and pinning her left arm down with a strong grip.

A pinching feeling stung her right arm for a moment as she struggled. The more she struggled the less she could move until she crumpled down silently to the floor, the cloth still covering her face. All she knew was that somebody stood over her. She prayed that they had not poisoned her, for besides not being able to move she could now no longer see or hear, and faded slowly into darkness...