by Pirateaba
“Are you sure you won’t stay, Miss Ryoka? There’s hardly a road to follow, and the snow hasn’t stopped falling. We’d be happy to offer you a place to stay as long as is needed.”
Prost indicated one of the excavated houses they’d let Ryoka stay in for the night. Ryoka, thinking of how she’d been the only person to have a room to herself while the others slept four or more to a room, shook her head.
“It’s kind of you to offer, but I have to be going. I can reach Invrisil in a day even with deep snow. I have a…guide.”
“Just as you say, Miss. But I…we…can’t thank you enough for making this delivery on Emperor Laken’s behalf.”
He took Ryoka’s hand in his callused ones and bowed over it. Ryoka hesitated, and then clasped Prost’s hand.
“It was the right thing to do, that’s all. Your [Emperor] is a good man. He was the one who convinced me to make the journey. Thank him as well. But I have to be off. There’s somewhere I need to go back to, and people waiting for me. Perhaps I’ll return in the future.”
“If you do, our doors will always be open to you. Always. We owe you a large debt, Miss Ryoka.”
That promise was repeated by every man and woman Ryoka said farewell to. Every villager wanted to say goodbye to Ryoka personally, and she had to shake their hands, trade hugs…and also bend down to do the same to the children.
“You take it easy, okay?”
Ryoka looked Anabelle in the eyes as the young girl reached out to shake her hand. The child was still holding the doll that Ryoka had given her. She hadn’t let go of it once.
“I will, Miss. Thank you.”
She looked so small, standing in the freshly fallen snow. Ryoka felt old as she stood and put her gloves on. The wind blew and she nearly lost her grip on one.
“It’s cold. You stay warm and indoors, alright? When the snows melt…Laken will return.”
“I know he will. He promised.”
Anabelle smiled. There was such trust in her expression that Ryoka didn’t know what to say. She looked down at the girl and then at the village.
“You all really love him, don’t you?”
“He saved us, Miss Runner. You did, too. Maybe when I gain a class, I’ll be a [Runner].”
Ryoka glanced down and opened her mouth. She hesitated, looking into Anabelle’s eyes. They were alight, not dull and empty like they had when she’d first seen them. Ryoka bit back what she was about to say, and knelt one last time.
“You know what? You might be a good [Runner]. When spring comes, eat a lot and run around a bit. Just have fun, and…we’ll see. Until then, stay warm.”
She stood, and turned. It was time to go. The villagers who’d gathered around her in the cold stepped back. But one woman came hurrying towards Ryoka, holding a box in her hands.
It was one of the present boxes Ryoka had handed out last night. Only, this one had been rewrapped in a hurry. Ryoka stared at it and then raised her hands.
“Oh no. You didn’t…please, I don’t need anything. I can’t accept—”
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it? And you gave us so much…please, take this.”
The woman, Prost’s wife, Yesel, handed the box to Ryoka. The girl wanted to refuse, but couldn’t. She gingerly unwrapped the gift and blinked down at what was inside.
It was a scarf. Hand-knitted, thick, it was dark grey, but for a band of blue across the center. The scarf had a complex wave-pattern that saw the blue center rise and fall, like a wave. It looked brand new, and as if it had never been used.
Ryoka took the wool scarf out of the box and stared at Yesel. The woman looked at her, looked at the scarf, and Ryoka knew that it had not been meant for her. But she asked no questions.
It was useful, but Ryoka didn’t want to take it. She was on the verge of refusing when she suddenly glanced up and to the left. Yesel stared, but Ryoka only seemed to be staring at a patch of blank air to her. But then the girl looked down at her and tried to force a smile.
“Thank you. I—I guess I would need this, after all.”
“It’s far too cold to be without. And it’s—a good fit. I’d be happy seeing it on you than going to waste.”
Yesel watched as Ryoka wound the scarf around her face and neck. Normally Ryoka wouldn’t have bothered, but her coat didn’t cover her head, and the wind was freezing. Any colder and Ryoka wouldn’t be able to stay outdoors without goggles or some kind of protection to keep her corneas from freezing. She’d heard of that happening and had no desire to find out what that felt like herself.
“Thank you. When I see Lak—your [Emperor], I’ll let him know you’re all well.”
Ryoka said it again as she walked towards the outskirts of the village. The people gathered and waved after her, calling blessings. Ryoka slowly began to jog, and then run out of the village. She didn’t look back once, and soon, she’d left it behind.
When Ryoka was certain she was out of sight, she slowed her pace a bit. She spoke to the air.
“Ivolethe. Why did you tell me to accept the scarf?”
The Frost Faerie flew down out of the air and hovered by Ryoka’s side as the girl ran on through the deep snow. It was flurrying, the snow blowing down and confusing any sense of direction. It would soon be very dark, Ryoka knew. Only Ivolethe’s light shone brightly in this world of frost and snow.
“Refusing a gift given in good will on the Winter Solstice is ill luck, Ryoka. You should know that.”
“Really?”
Ryoka frowned at Ivolethe. She’d forgotten it was the shortest day of the year today. But then, it made sense. Yesterday hadn’t actually been Christmas, just a day that Erin had chosen to be the holiday. And the Winter Solstice…
“Does that mean the winter’s only half-over?”
Ivolethe shook her head.
“Nay, two thirds. I do not know how such things are reckoned where you hail from, but in this place, we govern winter. And the shortest day of the year marks the beginning of the end. In time, we shall depart. But this day has more significance than just that. That is why I warned you not to scorn the gift of goodwill.”
“Why? Because it’s unlucky?”
“Yes.”
Ryoka laughed. But Ivolethe’s face remained serious as she flew next to the girl.
“Do not mock my words. It is the Winter Solstice, Ryoka Griffin. Not Christmas. Not some day of mortal make. There is power in this day, even if it is not celebrated by the races of this world.”
The smile on Ryoka’s face faded. She stared at Ivolethe.
“You’re serious. What, is the Winter Solstice really an important day here?”
The Frost Faerie nodded.
“Today is a day of power. It is the shortest day of the year—a moment when spirits and magic mix and mingle with the mortal plane. Surely you know of this?”
“I—not really. You’re telling me magic is stronger on this day?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I would not know, since magic is practiced differently by the people of this world. But other things take on different aspects on this day.”
“Hold up.”
Ryoka slowed down and stopped in the deep snow. She brushed some snowflakes away from her face and stared at Ivolethe.
“Are you telling me that days like the Winter Solstice, the equinoxes, things like the witching hour…are all actual times of power?”
The Frost Faerie flew closer to Ryoka’s face. There was not a twitch, not a single tell that she was lying or playing games. She looked as serious as Ryoka had ever seen her, and that bothered the young woman greatly.
“Time has power, as does place. I say again, be cautious today, Ryoka Griffin. Since you travel, it would be best if you enter no house uninvited nor ask for any favors of those you meet upon the road. Utter no curses, ask for no blessings if ye are unwilling to pay the price. And make no bargains, make no promises. Tell no lies.”
Ryoka stared at Ivolethe. Her humor faded, and she felt just the tiny bit unea
sy.
“I will. But if today’s so important—no, dangerous—would it have been better to stay indoors?”
The faerie shook her head. She cast her eyes upwards at the dark sky and the falling snow.
“Indoors? Hah. On such a day, only a leyline or—nae, a sacred spot would attract attention. Fate will find you no matter where you go, Ryoka. Best to be about your business. But let us hurry on. It will be dark soon, and you should be behind stone and iron before the night is deepest.”
She flew ahead, lighting Ryoka’s path. The girl ran after her. On the shortest day of the year, she followed the Frost Faerie onwards. But soon, both Ryoka and Ivolethe were lost. And dusk came quickly, so that when Erin woke, in the blink of an eye it seemed almost like night.
—-
Erin Solstice woke up late in the day for once. But when she sat up, letting the blanket fall off her shoulders by the smoldering fireplace, she thought she was dreaming.
It was already dusk, and her inn was empty. Erin stared at the blanket someone had wrapped around her, and then looked around her inn. But from the basement to the second floor, there was not a soul to be found.
Even Lyonette’s bee grub was gone. Her inn was deserted. No one was here, but Erin.
The girl walked about, feeling a wave of loneliness pass over her. It was the same feeling as yesterday. As every day, really.
She was alone. Only now she didn’t have anything to keep her busy.
Erin didn’t eat. She went over to the fireplace and sat in front of it, staring into the embers. Someone had added fuel to the fire, but it had burnt low again by the time Erin had woke up.
The girl stared into the fading coals, and then reached for a piece of wood. She slowly placed the log onto the fire, and watched the wood smoulder and then begin to ignite. She put a second piece of wood next to the first, and the fire grew. It reached up to consume the logs, and the wood burned.
The room began to warm. Erin huddled in front of the fire, warming herself. She stared into the heart of the flames and felt the inn echo around her. Vast. Empty.
On the hill, her inn stood, windows shuttered, door closed. It was the one building around. The city lay a small ways off, no doubt full of life. And beyond that, a few villages filled the hilltops before the snowy floodplains gave way to higher ground. Past that was the city of Esthelm, and other lands.
But here, on this isolated hilltop, the inn was the only source of light and life, however faint it may be. And in that inn, a young woman held her hands to the fire. She added more wood, and the modest blaze became a large conflagration, burning bright and fierce.
It was a waste of firewood for one person. But Erin didn’t care. She stoked the fire, feeding it, making it large enough to warm her cold heart and tired body. And the fire grew, and the inn warmed and gained new life.
So Erin sat, warming herself and thinking of nothing in front of the fire. She would have sat there until she slept, but then she heard a sound. She turned, and realized she had visitors.
Three.
—-
They were lost. Ryoka didn’t realize it at first. She followed Ivolethe, never doubting the faerie…until she found herself running past a fallen tree that looked too familiar to ignore.
“Ivolethe!”
Ryoka pulled down the scarf around her face, grimacing and wiping at the moisture built up on her lips and nose by her breath. Snow blew past her as Ryoka covered her face with one arm, shielding it from the worst of the blizzard. It felt just as bad—no, worse—than yesterday.
“Ivolethe! Where the hell are we!? I could have sworn we passed that same tree a minute ago!”
She had to look hard to see the Frost Faerie’s glow as Ivolethe flew back towards her. Ivolethe was frowning as she stared at the fallen tree Ryoka pointed to.
“It is not the same tree. Your eyes play tricks on you, Ryoka Griffin.”
“You sure?”
Ryoka peered at the tree. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, but she felt it was lying in the same place and at the same angle as the last one she’d seen. How many fallen trees were there, anyways?
“Where are we going, Ivolethe? I thought we were following the road!”
“We are!”
“What do you call this, then?”
Ryoka waved her hand at the grove of trees that she and the Frost Faerie were travelling through. It was a forest of some kind, and not one Ryoka remembered going through on the way to Riverfarm.
Ivolethe looked uncertain. She cast about and flew upwards, fighting the strong winds that threatened to blow her away. When she flew back down to Ryoka, she pointed past the tree.
“This is the way to the road.”
The young woman peered doubtfully in the direction Ivolethe had indicated.
“You sure?”
“Yes! Now come!”
Ivolethe scowled, unused to being questioned. She flew off angrily and Ryoka cursed and ran to catch up, wrapping her scarf around her head as she did.
“Don’t go so fast, Ivolethe! I can barely see you in all of this! Can’t you make your light red again?”
The faerie didn’t answer, or maybe she didn’t hear Ryoka. The girl ran on, tripping over buried tree roots and cursing as she passed through a spot with low-hanging branches. But then she saw the faint light of Ivolethe’s aura pause. Ryoka caught up to the faerie and halted.
“What the…”
They were back at the fallen tree. Only this time, they were facing it from an entirely different angle. Ryoka turned back and stared the way they’d come. Then she looked angrily at Ivolethe.
“What the hell is this, Ivolethe? Are you messing with me?”
“I’m not!”
The faerie protested as Ryoka glared at her. She stared at the fallen tree, her brows furrowed.
“I…must have turned the wrong way. But I will take you to the road. It’s this way.”
She pointed in a completely different direction than the way she had before. Ryoka stared at Ivolethe, frowning with vexation.
“If you’re playing games, Ivolethe, I’m not in the mood. I’m cold—it’s getting dark, and—”
“Cease your complaints! I know the way. Follow me and be silent!”
The faerie snapped at Ryoka and flew off. Surprised by the faerie’s outburst—Ivolethe sounded truly angry—Ryoka followed the faerie. But after a few minutes of running she realized something was wrong.
“Ivolethe. Ivolethe!”
The faerie paused and glared back at Ryoka.
“What?”
“You’re going the wrong way! You just turned left, towards the way we came!”
“I did not!”
“You did. I saw you! Look—you can see the fallen tree back that way!”
Ryoka pointed, and Ivolethe stared incredulously. It was true. She was headed straight back towards the fallen tree again.
About to make an acidic comment, Ryoka paused as she stared at the Frost Faerie. She’d assumed Ivolethe was paying a prank on her, but the surprise and uncertainty she saw on the tiny faerie’s face bothered her.
“What’s going on, Ivolethe? Why are we going in circles.”
“I…do not know. Hold. I will see where we are. Just wait—”
Ivolethe cast about, and then flew up. Ryoka saw her form flying straight up, and then getting dragged to the left by the wind.
“By the wind…? I thought Ivolethe could read the wind. Or control it.”
Ryoka muttered to herself as she saw Ivolethe fighting to stay in one place. The faerie flew higher, until her light was swallowed up by the darkness. Ryoka waited on the ground for a minute. And then five.
And then ten. Ryoka stared upwards, shivering, calling out.
“Ivolethe! Are you there? Answer me!”
But no response came. Ryoka paced back and forth anxiously. After what felt like forever, she saw the faintest of lights in the darkening skies. Ivolethe flew down out of the sky, shouting Ryoka’s nam
e.
“Ryoka! Ryoka Griffin! Hear my call! Where art thou?”
“Here! Ivolethe, I’m here!”
Ryoka shouted and waved her arms. The Frost Faerie flew towards her.
“Where did ye go? I lost you!”
“I didn’t go anywhere! You went straight up and vanished!”
“No! I flew up and when I looked back to find you, you were gone!”
The two stared at each other, searching for a hint of deception in each other’s expressions. But neither was lying. After a second, Ryoka stared around at the scattered trees and dark landscape.
“What’s going on, Ivolethe? I’m being serious, now. I don’t like what’s happening.”
The faerie looked grave. She flew closer to Ryoka and placed a hand on her small chest.
“Upon my name, Ryoka Griffin, I do not know. I am not lying to ye. Something is afoot and I cannot tell what.”
“Could it be…could it be your sisters, Ivolethe? I didn’t see them when I woke up—is this some prank of theirs? Or someone else…of your kind?”
Ivolethe frowned and looked about. Then she shook her head.
“I would be able to tell if it were a working of my people. Besides, the magic of the fae is mine. I see through all glamours, and can walk through the twisted halls of my land without losing my way. The magic of the Sidhe cannot fool my eyes, any more than a spell of mortal make can. No, this is something else. Something…else.”
That bothered Ryoka greatly. She stared about once more, noting how the sun, still completely hidden behind the clouds, was almost gone. She recalled what Ivolethe had said about the Winter Solstice. A time of power. An important event.