Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 35

Heinrich had never been fond of people. In Snejotep Haven, the locals often ridiculed him, labeling him as a crazy old man. They whispered about his youthful claim of having witnessed something extraordinary—something that most would dismiss as mere fantasy. When most people came to buy flour for him, they couldn't resist making a few cracks about him. It would put him in a foul mood most of the time.

Despite the challenges he faced, a few individuals treated him with decency, and one of them was Vagatha. While she would give him lip and had a strong attitude, she consistently completed her work without complaint. She maintained the mill in impeccable condition, and her assistance in developing the new hazelnut flour had propelled his business to remarkable success.

She was a good kid, much like Charlotte.

"You really shouldn't drink so much vodka," she advised him that afternoon. "It's not good for you."

"Who are you, my mother?" he retorted.

"I'm just looking out for the person who pays for my meals."

"Ah," he dismissed her concern. "My father drank six vodkas a day and lived to the ripe old age of forty-eight."

"That's considered ripe?"

"It is in this era."

"Well, at the very least, you should drink more water than vodka each day, and maybe add a little fruit juice. You need those vitamins."

"Fruit juice? What fruit juice? There's no fruit growing this time of year. Don't you know that?"

"Oh right, sorry. I keep forgetting that down here, nothing grows when the weather is cold. Where I come from, everything thrives year-round."

"Oh really? Are you from Africa or something? I hear it never snows there."

"No, actually, I come from the heavens."

"Don't we all?" he replied, taking another sip of vodka. "We all come from heaven, and if we play our cards right, we can return there."

"No, not heaven. The heavens. There's a difference. Heaven is God's eternal kingdom of light, joy, and love, where the souls of His children ascend when the time is right. The heavens, however, is a realm in the sky where special beings, chosen by God, perform essential tasks for Earth."

"And you come from this place?" he asked, skepticism etched on his face.

"Yes... Well, not originally. Like everyone else, I was born on Earth and lived there for seven years. But then my parents died, and I had no one to care for me, so..." She hesitated, recalling Anthony's reaction to her story. "Never mind."

"What?"

"You're not going to believe me. No one down here ever does."

"Aww, come on! It can't be that bad. I once knew a man who claimed his grandfather was a mushroom."

Vagatha shot him a puzzled look.

"Long story. You really don't want to know," Heinrich said, waving his hand dismissively. "The point is, whatever you say can't be crazier than that."

"Alright. I was taken in by Mother Carmilla. I know, I know—she's just a story to you humans, something people tell their kids—"

Suddenly, a glass shattered, and she turned to see Heinrich staring at her in utter shock, his drink spilled on the floor.

"You... you've seen Mother Carmilla? And Mother Rosamund?"

"Y-Yes. I didn't just see them; they raised me and Alastor for ten years."