Darkness falls, yet I pass through it guided only by moonlight and the stars — stars which sparkle like crystals hoisted high into the cold silence of this night, disturbed only by the mist from my breath, but the world around me is spellbound by a severe frost whose incantation sets the world to a frozen stillness. But this cold is a vicious wolf of winter, whose long teeth of ice gnaw at my bones, only adding to my exhaustion. Yet, I must continue. I must put one foot in front of another, again and again, no matter the pain, the leaden ache of every muscle in every limb. I had a blanket and a knife in my bag, which was with the casket, and I am a fool for not asking Crowfoot for it back.
I am a fool, and I deserve this ending.
The road ahead ascends a hill now. In the valley beyond is Solsidor, a small town of concentric circles of small neat houses facing inwards to the town square, which still has echoes of the village green it once was — the grassy green is still there, the site of their games and celebrations, and of the Summer Fayre, but the church which stands sentry next to it, is now far grander than it once was, yearning as it is to one day to become a cathedral, evermore dwarfing the small vicarage behind it.
But the chill is leeching my strength, the effort required to mount this mild incline requiring a superhuman feat. I inch up cobblestone by cobblestone, but I must keep going. I must.
A small mercy: I have stopped shivering, or was I trembling? My muscles are so stiff, and my body so heavy, perhaps just a moment's rest can be afforded?
No, I must get there before Crowfoot does. They must be warned.
See! There is the morning glow crowning the hilltop above me! The clouds now appearing from beyond the hill under-lit with spectacular crimson.
How can it be morning already? If only I can reach the top of this mountain of a hill, then, oh then, I would run down the other side with glee.
I stumble and fall, and I need but a moment to gather my breath. The air must be thinner here, and it smells of cinders. Please, just allow me but one moment to gather... to gather myself... Just a moment... please...
YOU ARE READING
Agatha's Lament
FantasyAfter the death of her lover, Agatha goes on a journey of penance, which becomes both harrowing and transformative; meeting both monsters and new friends, and discovering love along the way. Note: This is actually a completed story, but I have to re...
