Till the End of Time

Chapter 8 - Falling through Thin Ice

As I'm released from the sticky grasp of darkness, I watch as landscapes shift around us. We're no longer in the garden or the tunnel towards it. White clumps of frost and snow lay strewn around us. Colors whirl as the winter chills of Petrazoi sinks deep into my bones. My hands are like needles of ice as I attempt to warm them to no avail. Plumes of hot air drift into the sky, quickly cooling. My hazel eyes wander as my hands begin to burn.

"Are you good freezing in there?" Leila chuckled as she appeared above me. I frowned at her head; she knew very well that I hated going to our Petrazoi home because of the cold. It is absolutely the worst thing in the world.

"No, I am not for your information. Now how far are we and how long till we can leave this saint forsaken wasteland of cold?" I inquire, I don't want to stay so long that I might as well never no summer. Or any hot or warm weather. Leila suddenly pales and nearly trips on my stretcher as she walks.

Leila quickly disperses after excusing herself, feeling quite unwell in her words. I attempt to roll onto my side only to gasp in pain as my chest tightens and my breath hitches. My mind whirls as the world around me is thrown into upheaval. Then it's over and my chest begins to loosen, I groan and try not to let that happen again. This is clearly going to be a losing battle, Merzost has clearly been pushed to the limits that our bodies. Next time, someone dies would be the end. Merzost will kill the one fortunate enough to be living as they attempt to revive the other.

I take in my surroundings and notice the group that escaped the little palace was extremely few in number. The colored cloths of keftas were few, I could count 12 maybe? Including myself though and how many I could spot, we had about 14 people at most.

"Leila, when this is over, can I murder the darkling's corpse? I'm sure he won't mind, what goes around comes around!" I declare. I can hear someone chuckling in the background which then echoes around the clearing louder.

I glance down at my kefta, resisting my urge to just cough and die already. It's dusty and the royal blue was now faded with the fur slightly torn from the edge. Traces of slippery and wispy black remain, stuck to the cloth of my clothes. Well, if my experiences with death mean anything, then I certainly look like I have just been brought back from the murky depths of the next world.

"Alina," I whine, "make it legal to murder the darkling's body. It would be unfair that he doesn't get a taste of his own medicine." I flop over the stretcher, landing face first on the floor. A wave of nausea ripples through my body. A chorus of coughs erupt from my scratchy throat as my lungs gasp for air. Then it's over as soon as it had begun like lightning striking an object.

My face is probably a mud cake now. My kefta is even more dirty than before but I've had clothes dirtier than this. I clamber back on to the stretcher, still a bit weak and tired to want to walk now. I slowly begin to turn my head and quickly observe the rest of the group standing like statues. A few whistling notes waft through the air as they glare at a poor innocent bird. Though it wasn't an innocent little bird. Around its neck was a rough cloth with a little hood covering one of its eyes. I continue observing the bird, its feathers begin as a pale icy white that fade into a crystal amber, its feather almost like it was covered in gloss.

I softly laugh at the spectacle before me as the bird continues to whistle, now seeming faintly distraught with its newfound attention. The little thing begins to sing louder and louder, hoping that it draws the person it sought attention. I finally mimic the poor thing and change several notes which form a familiar song to the bird.

It quickly glides down to deliver its letter before scampering off, clearly disgruntled with its encounter this time around. Watching the bird flap off indignantly, the small crowd of Grisha are now deeply confused with this revelation.