Iridian

24. FROZEN

What was it like—losing part of yourself? Really losing it, never to be regained, never to be healed? I spent a lot of time wandering the woods behind the house trying to sort out that question in my mind.

It was late spring. The pond had thawed, letting the sad willow dip the fronds of her long leaves into the clear water. A family of wild ducks had taken residence, skimming the surface with a grace that belied their awkwardness on land.

Today was no different. The air held a slight chill still, but the sun filtered through the trees, touching the woods with golden fingers of warmth. I padded barefooted on the soft mossy grass of a tiny glade amongst the oaks, feeling its texture beneath my feet as I watched a squirrel bound through the large branches above, surprising a black bird into taking wing with a scolding squawk. Purple and white flowers scattered about, dotting the greenery in a random pattern that was pleasing to the eye. It was serene.

A shadow flitted just at the edge of my sight, among the cover of the trees.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, without turning to look.

The shadow didn't reply.

I turned my back resolutely and walked off, winding my way through the woods as the sounds and scents of blooming life soaked into me. The shadow trailed me soundlessly, almost parallel to my path but I paid no heed.

I stopped by the willow tree next to the pond, watching the hint of silvery fins gliding beneath the surface. The shadow stood directly beyond me, across the water. I looked up despite my desire do otherwise. Green eyes met mine—enigmatic and intense, speaking volumes of emotion that I didn't want to read, in a face that was far too pale. I lowered my gaze and moved on. It was too painful.

The whisper of a sigh touched me, as the shadow continued to pace me.

And that was how it was. Every day. Almost every hour.

The shadow would linger near me wherever I was. Near enough to see, never close enough to touch. Maddening. Frustrating. Why wouldn't he just leave me alone?

Because you don't want to be alone.

It was a whisper of a thought. I wasn't sure if that response had come from me or elsewhere. Was I talking to myself now? I shuddered, feeling a chill creep into my bones. I shouldn't feel this cold. I'd been feeling cold a lot lately. The chill seemed to spread from the centre of my chest, radiating outwards until the tip of my fingers felt like ice. What was wrong with me?

I held up my arms to look at my hands, noting for the first time the silvery tattoo that seemed to glow on my left arm, all the way from the wrist upwards. I recoiled. I'd never gotten myself inked. Where had that come from?

The tattoo burned into my skin, stinging against the growing chill. I started to panic.

Atreus. I must find Atreus, I thought as I stumbled along the path back to the house. My foot tangled on a large root and I lurched forward, but before I slammed into the ground, strong arms caught me.

Heat seared me, not only on my skin by throughout my whole being. So bright, like the sun, burning through the dark chill coiled within me like a beam cutting a wide swath. I couldn't even scream. In that blinding heat, I saw his face. Dante.

Come back to me... his voice echoed softly in the recesses of my mind.

I can't. You're dead. You're lost to me, I choked a response. My eyes stung from the memory. Please stop lingering. I can't take the pain.

There was no answer, but the heat gentled to a soothing warmth, softly but surely melting away the chill that had gripped me just moments ago, that had often gotten hold of me lately. As the cold ebbed, I was mutely aware that I was held within the protective arms that had halted my fall.