It's 1841. Jackson Overland - intelligent, gentle, and lonely - struggles with his humdrum existence in his small Norwegian town. One night, he sees something he was never supposed to: a creature shrouded in mystery that brought fear to his village...
"JAAAAACK!" Mary wailed. She wanted to run to him, but Ansgar held her back as tightly as he could. He tried to keep her from looking as her own brother began to bleed out onto the ice, pressing her face into his chest. "Monster!" She wept, "He's a monster!" Why hadn't she listened to her dreams? She should've known both the good and the bad would become true. Not only did he kill the beautiful creature, but now her own brother!
Ansgar gave his father the look of disgust he'd always wanted him to see. This is just what he thought of him.
Elrond didn't even notice his son, nor hear Mary's cries. He wasn't even looking at his kill... just Jack as he struggled helplessly. He wasn't reaching up for Elrond, nor trying to call for help. He watched, in a conflation of disbelief and awe, as Jack used the last of his energy to bring his hand into the creature's. He kept his gaze on it, with the tenderness one could only see between two lovers, and then went still, brown eyes closing forever.
Jackson Overland, eighteen years old, killed by a gunshot wound to the heart... and it had been done by Elrond. No, he was meant to save this town, not destroy a family! He felt his rifle slip from his fingers and he stumbled away from the bodies.
The crowd of people behind him was roaring, all coming close to the pond's edge. The mayor was shouting for his men to take Elrond, people were craning their necks to see if it really was Jack he'd killed, and even Hildur was reduced to a pale, frenzied mess for what she'd caused. It was a blessing that Nicholas and Emily Overland were still asleep in their beds, not knowing their first and only son lay dead so close to home.
Two men grabbed Elrond, and he made no fight against them. They pulled him back towards the shore, but they hardly made any progress when all activity stopped.
The winds began to howl again and snowflakes chased each other horizontally across the sky. Everything was white now, at least as far as Elrond could see. Then there was light.
A light that was glowing brighter and brighter.
Green, and blue, and yellow; then faster, violet, and crimson, and umber; then faster, peach, and olive, and canary; and faster, every color known and unknown, outshining the storm. It was the creature.
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She was rising from where she'd fallen, her bullet hole only a small crack in her armored flesh of ice. She stroked a finger through Jack's hair with such love he'd never seen the being give. She held Jack's face and observed the wound in his chest... and then she locked eyes with Elrond. The two guards retreated, expecting Elrond to escape with them, but he just stood there, blinked.
It was shot twice, yet it still stands. Yet it walks.
She came close down the pond, her body a bright torch in the night. She had been burnt, scratched, shot, and stabbed... and those wounds and cuts and burns dribbled away like someone dragging their finger across frost. Elrond's eyes met with her everlasting, cold, blue ones once more. They were quite used to each other's company by now. Their faces were inches apart, the closest Elrond has ever been to her in his life... and it was his mistake. For he was marveling at her brilliant hue.
