Into the Runes

Thawing Stone

Despite being born here in the mountains, I will forever hate the cold. My fingers and toes feel like icicles, despite the thick yak fur-lined gloves and boots I wear. The fur lining my hood tickles my forehead as the wind picks up. I tuck my face further into the wrap I have covering my mouth and nose. Finally, I am far enough away from the village that I can release my stealth rune. The black rune on my neck cools as the crunch of the snow under my feet begins to make a sound again, and the steam my hot breath turns into is now visible.

I keep my head down and focus on my footing; I know where I'm going and don't need to lookup. Leipolah is a vast land of snow, mountains, and more snow, but there are only a few places to go if you're not native. Us natives know that even in the most desolate places, there is somewhere to be, somewhere to hide. Though, I pray no one else but me and Kiowa knows about this place.

A wall of solid grey stone rises to my left and the path I walk on narrows dangerously, sloping down, trying to push me off of it and down the tree ridden mountainside. Walk sideways against the slope, an old voice rings in my head. Just like the mountain goats.

I block out the howl of the wind, still listening for human voices that could be just around the ledge I walk on, or even above. I hear nothing but am tempted to sink back under the cloak of my gift. Being able to disappear is fortunate, but tiring. Nevertheless, I am glad I didn't inherit my father's smithing rune; I do enjoy being able to not exist.

I continue to carefully sidle on the ledge until I reach a part where there is an obvious hole in the rock wall as if it was made by a pickaxe at eye level. There were four more holes below it which I used to ease myself down onto my knees on the ledge. I tensed my arms as a particularly strong gust of wind tried to knock me down. My heart pounded in my chest and I tried to swallow a lump in my throat, not looking forward to the next step. I clenched my teeth and groaned in frustration. Fear is weakness. I took a breath. We are stone and stones feel nothing.

Before I can think about it too much, I fling my knees out from underneath me and I suck in violently as I tense my arms and shoulders. My legs now hang off the edge at an angle. Slowly, I extend my arms, letting myself slide down the ledge. I grimace as snow finds its way into my pants. I slide my feet along the mountainside until they find a notch in the stone. I let go of the breath I've been holding. The hard part is over.

Using the carefully placed holes in the rock I climb down till my feet hang in the opening of a cave. I swing myself in, barely landing on my feet. Finally on solid ground.

"Took you long enough," calls a voice from deep in the cave. My heart flutters and I resist the urge to shove the emotion down, remembering that I can feel with Kiowa.

"Kiowa." The corners of my mouth twitching in a sort of smile as Kiowa walks up to me, pushing the hood of her parka back, revealing her stark black hair and blue eyes. She smiles wide as she moves closer to me. I don't move; I get stuck in awe of this woman every time I see her. Kiowa puts her mitten-covered hands on my chest and it's as if the warmth of her penetrating the five layers of clothing I wear. She's so close that the steam her breath makes brushes against my face. I bite my lip, fighting the smile that yearns to spread across my face.

Kiowa notices and takes her hands off my chest to pull off one mitten and I am surprised when she places her hand on my cheek. Her hand is so delicate, so warm, and I lean into it, closing my eyes.

"You can smile when you're with me, you know," Kiowa says. She tells me this every time we meet and each time I get closer to actually smiling for her.

"I've missed you," I whisper instead. Then I feel her lips on mine and I want nothing more than to stay here forever.

Kiowa pulls away and whispers onto my lips, "Let's build a fire."