The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Fifty-nine

Snowflakes fell softly in the silent, wintery landscape. The pearl-coloured sky mirrored the untouched snowy ground which was washed of the earthy fawn, olive and viridian shades that the forest's palette usually showcased. It was like standing in an aged and faded watercolour, as forgotten and misplaced as I felt.

I continued to scour the forest around me. The snowflakes fluttered towards my eyes and stung them with their icy bite before I could shield them with my lids. I sacrificed blinking for fear of missing any shadow or movement from the depths of the trees. The view from my hiding place amongst the shrubs was framed by tall, thin birch trees; their dark, elliptical ridges suspiciously scrutinised my every movement.

My bones were stiff with the cold. They creaked in exasperation, calling upon me to stretch, but I didn't dare move until I had the creature in my sights. It would appear soon. I could sense it in the way the forest seemed to silence itself, wanting to hide from prying eyes and intruders. The gleaming snow was becoming tainted with fallen leaves and stiff branches. The crunch of fresh snow underfoot and the rustling of the low-lying frozen bracken would treacherously reveal me. It would grow dark soon enough, although it was hard to tell exactly when with very little sunlight to chart the hours of the day, but I would wait as long as I had to.

The snow started to fall rapidly, and the flakes grew larger, but my concentration did not falter, even when an icy gust of wind raised my cloak and its frosty fingers graced my skin with its malice. I shivered. My breath was an icy mist in the wintery air.

I thought about shifting when I was finally rewarded for my resilience. Amidst the whispers of the gentle wind I heard the creature's snort, and attempted to quell my rising excitement.

I squinted through the trees to observe it coming forward. Its small set eyes alighted upon the bracken, and it wasted no time in beginning its meal. His dark mane ran proudly down his back, and his large canines curved upwards as he munched hungrily at the shrubs. I silently raised my bow and pulled back the string, wincing at the pull on my muscles. The boar's long bristles stood erect at the sound. I released the arrow without compassion. The boar whined in agony as the arrow pierced its flank, before desperately attempting to flee. I strode slowly after it, following the fresh, crimson droplets on the snow as though it were a breadcrumb trail through the birch trees that surrounded me.

I found the boar lying in the snow, puffing and wheezing as he struggled for breath, passionately clinging to life as it reluctantly left him. Blood oozed freely from the wound in his side and, frustrated by my terrible aim, I remained helplessly at the boar's side as it slowly and agonisingly whined for the last time. I had not wished to cause him pain; if I had been more skilled with the bow, I could have given him a quick death and spared him from the suffering.

As weak as I was, I dragged the dead boar behind me in the snow, leaving a thick smear of red in our wake. Finding the boar was a blessing. I was struggling to survive the winter alone.

I cooked some of the meat over the fire, scowling at it from under my dirty, woollen blankets. The abandoned cabin that I had been living in had once belonged to someone else. It was where I had found the bow and arrows and had spent hours practising on the nearby trees that angrily bore the scars of my attempts. No one had yet passed through this part of the woods or returned to the cabin. Yet I continued to wait.

I huddled closer to the fire; the cold nights were my enemy. Not even the hungry animals of the wild came close to the cabin, but the wind seemed to find its way through all the gaps and cracks in the old wooden walls, calling to me in the long nights.

Long after the fire had died down I lay awake, staring at the holey, thatched roof. I rubbed my fingertips against the palms of my hands where the magic had scarred them with raised, red welts. I replayed the memories over in my mind, the memories that I had only just retrieved, and I thought of him. I did not know whether it was from the cold or my solitude, but I shivered deeply, alone in the woods.

It was difficult to sleep alone, without the comforting sounds of the giant's snores or the light footsteps of the smuggler as he scouted the land in the middle of the night. I thought of baby Aina at the Cura in Montgarz and wondered whether I could fulfil my promise to her. Aina was a giant; there was no denying that she would grow to be much larger than me and want to live amongst her own people. The community formed a strong bond and to take her away from the giants would be a mistake. And I knew that I would never be able to settle down, especially not in Rinturst, and that was the problem. The idea of leaving a child alone without her parents shook me. I had always thought that my parents would one day return to me, but Aina would never have that luxury. The loss of loved ones left wounds that would never heal or be forgotten, and I did not want that pain for Aina, as unavoidable as it was.

I continued to lay awake, staring at the roof when I heard the crunch of fresh snow outside. I grasped the bow and the quiver and edged quietly out of the door. The darkness had fallen quickly. A sliver of moon cast a white light through the trees. A few feet away from the door, footprints were visible.

I froze and swallowed, removing an arrow from the quiver at my shoulder and drawing it across the bow. I crept into the forest that surrounded the cabin.

Further ahead, a shadow moved swiftly within the trees.

'Come out!' I shouted, sounding less brave than I had hoped.

I waited for what seemed an eternity before the shadow reappeared. It stepped out into the light of the moon. I felt the taut bowstring at my fingers. When I saw his face, I let out a sigh, disbelief rippling through me. Without thinking I released the arrow.

The shadow raised his hand slowly and stopped the arrow with an invisible force. I stepped forward.

The snow began to fall heavier. Flakes landed on my eyelashes and blurred my vision. I had wondered who would find me, who would show up first. I asked myself who I expected, who I wanted to come to me. But it wasn't until I saw him stood there that I understood what I felt.

What I had felt since the beginning.

He walked slowly towards me, taking his time while I watched him with scepticism.

'I've come to bring you home.'