White Force

Little Snow

                                                                                         ANYA

As the night bled black, and the fire burned orange, I sat against the back of the dark cave, completely consumed in my thoughts. It seemed as though every day brought a new challenge, the kind that caused our end goal to seem farther and farther away.

First, we were forced to run from Titus and the Fire King in order to spare our lives. We then ran into Queen Ika of the Wildlands, who demanded our journey to Mount Ire to gather and bring back Winter Stone. If we were successful, we'd gain Luca and be on our way to the Ice Castle to restore order. But things never worked out as planned. Syn was now up for execution, and if Cros was successful at killing her, Queen Ika would never release Luca. It wasn't a loss I wasn't willing to take. And I wasn't so sure I was willing to watch a Seer kill a thirteen year old girl.

In ways, Syn was innocent, just a pawn in her queen's schemes. And if it were true that she was told to kill us, it wasn't her decision; she was simply following orders.

Cros sat at the edge of the mountain, dark and distant. He stared into the night with his brow set in a hard line, and I wondered if that was how he looked after he saw a bad vision. As if he was troubled by something.

"When did you get your first vision?" I asked him, watching closely as his focus wavered ever the slightest.

"Twelve." His voice was hard, final. It was as if he was hinting that I shouldn't press the subject.

"How did it happen? Tell me the story."

He sighed and looked back at me. "I was in the middle of fighting off two boys when the vision of them being attacked by wolves hit me. The vision slammed into me so hard that I felt every rip and tear of their skin. I had fallen down to my knees in pain, unable to defend myself. They both took advantage of my weakness to attack, and by the time I came to, I had a black eye and a few cuts. I saw them running home, laughing, and I could have stopped them and warned them, but I didn't. Anger boiled inside of me, and I didn't.

"That next day, our village received news of their deaths. They were attacked that night while walking through the forest to go home. I could have saved them." He stopped to clear throat, and then continued on in a soft, melodic tone, like that of a storyteller. He had the type of voice that made me want to take in every word and see what he saw.

"Later that day, we saw their parents in the village, and the grief on their faces made me stop and vomit a days worth of food. Timmy and Todd, I could never forget their names or erase that memory so long as I live. I went home and washed my hands, as if there was blood on them. And then I cried, promising myself that if I ever had another vision, I would never ignore it. I am now bound to my visions. I serve them and them alone...all for the greater good of man.

"There was once a time when more existed than just fire and ice. I've seen it...a seemingly different world than ours. Where the land grew hot and back to cold within a matter of a year. Winter, summer, spring, and fall, all beautiful and full of wonder. Some places stayed warmer all year long, as did places that stayed cold, and it was all perfect and good.

"We were an ungrateful kind, then. Altering the world's temperature and polluting the air. We caused the world to become hot and cold, and then we died by millions in every nation. Eventually, we adapted to our new world, but we didn't adapt to each other."

Cros when quiet and turned his head back toward his view. "Please don't try to get in my way tomorrow," he said. "I have to kill the girl."

"If you kill her, you will be killing Luca. I can't let that happen."

"So saving one friend is worth more than saving the entire world?" he asked, his tone harsh and disapproving.

"Iceland is the only land that needs saving," I corrected. "And yes, I am."

Cros turned back toward me with a dark laugh, one that sounded like he found nothing to be humorous. "The world is a river, and its stream is about to shift again. And when it shifts, both lands will need each to depend on each other, if they both wish to survive the current."

"How so? Have you seen this in a vision?"

"I've told you enough for one night." He turned away from me, once again hard and impenetrable. "The moon is high. Now rest. Tomorrow is a big day."

That night, I dreamed of a man atop a heap of burned bodies with his hands raised in the air in victory. This time, I was able to make out his face. It was Titus. But he was changed.

His hands reached toward the fire and he drew it near, until a ball burned in his hand. It was impossible, and yet, he held fire, as if it were ice.

His eyes met mine and they lowered as he smiled viciously. "You," he spat with vengeance. "You will never be able to stop me. I've already won!"

A blast of fire woke me from my dream and I sat upright, glancing around at the cave. Cros stirred from his sleep, jumping the same as I, and his eyes instantly connected with mine.

"How do you sleep with such dreams?" he asked, breath hoarse and frail.

"How do you know what I dreamed about?"

"Visions. I can see the present when it presents itself, and it presented itself to me in the form of your dream." Cros looked out of the cave; he had went to sleep in the same spot he'd been in before I'd dozed off. It was still dark outside, but the blues in the sky began to shift ever the slightest signaling that dawn was approaching. "What you saw was a premonition, something that will happen in the future."

"Can it be stopped?" I asked him, shivering even though I sat next to the fire.

"Your vision will only change, once an event significant enough to alter the future, takes place. So far, there is nothing you've done to prevent it from happening," he told me. "The only thing you may be able to control is what happens after he throws that fire ball at you."

"How was he even able to wield fire? It's impossible."

"It is impossible to produce fire, when ice runs through your veins, yes. But that is an entirely different thing than being able to control an already existing source of fire."

"I bet the Fire King taught him," I said. "I need to warn Cora and the others. I need to-"

"Rest and let tomorrow worry itself," Cros interjected. "Little Snow, how do you live with so much worry?"

"Little Snow?" I asked, allowing a small smile to tug at the corner of my lips. "You've nicknamed me."

"It's fitting. It's how you looked when I found you, all covered in snow on top of the vast sheeted earth."

"You have a beautiful way of speaking," I said out loud while not really meaning to. His eyes shimmered against the dark.

"Sleep, Little Snow. Who knows when you'll get to rest again, as soundly as tonight."

As if commanded, I returned to my sleeping position, closing my eyes while hoping to dream of home.

***

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