Vetur, Sumar, Samanrenna

fimm plús einn

A/N: This chapter would've been called the Icelandic word for "six" but I had to redo it to "five plus one" bc my worst fear about the Icelandic word for "six" came true but w/e

Soon, there was sweat dripping down Summer's back.

It had become overbearingly hot, and Summer couldn't do anything to cool herself off besides fan herself with her hand.

Why is this happening? She thought. Balance has been restored, right?

She exhaled, wiping sweat off her brow. She probably couldn't take much more of this before she overheats.

But she can't stand up and step out for some fresh air. She has to stay here and bake under the sun.

A sudden, scary thought came to Summer's mind.

What if my powers are going out of control, like Winter's?

She shook her head. She didn't want to think about that.

But what was causing the uncharacteristic behavior of the seasons' powers?

The only solution Summer could conjure up was that the universe still wasn't in balance.

That's the thing about the universe. It demands balance. And it'll throw temper tantrum after temper tantrum to get it.

But how can balance be restored? Why was it off-kilter in the first place? Why were so many things happening when the world rests on their shoulders? What exactly was off-balance?

She tried to pinpoint the cause of all this, but she was starting to feel faint from the excessive heat.

If she didn't stand up and go outside, her condition could prove fatal to her.

But if she stands up, chaos would ensue on earth, which is the very thing they've been trying to prevent since the beginning of time.

But if it's so hot in here, it must be the same on earth.

However, most of the people down on earth can keep cool by staying inside. Summer doesn't have that luxury.

Panting, she called her friends' names as loudly as she could. She prayed one of them would hear her.

~

Winter thumbed through the notebook again as he walked down the hallway with Autumn.

He loved the soft brush of the pages as they brushed across his fingers, seeing the lines blur together, going on and on.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Autumn," He smiled. "You did so much just for me."

Autumn shrugged, smiling back. "You're very welcome, Winter. And it's no problem. I'd do anything for you."

"I can't wait to start writing again," Winter grinned, thumbing through his notebook for the third time. "I've really missed it."

"What kind of stuff do you write?" Autumn asked.

Winter's smile faltered as a slight blush rose to his cheeks. "Nothing, really. My thoughts, I guess."

"So it's like a journal?" Autumn replied.

"Yeah," Winter nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

"So, that's what your old notebook was like, too?" Autumn inquired.

Winter nodded. "And remember when we went to earth that one time, and we heard people singing songs?"

"That was amazing." Autumn smiled at the memory.