The Unknown Alchemist

Little Cabin in the Big Woods

The girl leaned into a maple tree and gently blew a light dusting of snow off the branch. A thin layer of ice encased the green leaf, magnifying veins and edges. It was perfectly preserved, frozen in time.

Like herself.

She studied the leaf for a moment, admiring the beautiful patterns and wondering if the ice would melt before the leaf died. Would the leaf continue to grow, providing sugars to the hungry tree? Or would autumn follow this sudden burst of winter, the leaf changing to red or yellow or orange in its coffin of ice then shrivel and die.

At least it would change before it died, she thought. She never changed. Even her scars faded over time. Some of them, at least.

She lifted her hand to her face and gingerly touched the stitches holding her eyebrow together. Sewing in the reflection of the window had once been challenging. But she had enough practice that the scar would be small.

A familiar bird called out in the canopy, expressing his distaste for the sudden snow in the middle of summer. It had been a beautiful sunny day when the snow started to fall, and the sun had stayed high in the sky when the girl went to bed. It was in the same position when she woke. It was still there when she brought in firewood, and as she checked her rabbit snares.

Now the light was fading, either from an approaching storm or the arrival of dark. It was impossible to know without any sense of time. But it didn't matter; it wasn't like she could get lost. She pulled the hood of her heavy jacket up over her head and continued to wander, her brown eyes observing the frozen trees that had guarded her in this forest for longer than she could remember.

Her steps faltered then halted as she noticed an odd lump on the ground ahead of her. She knew every inch of this forest, in every type of weather. She couldn't get lost and she had never seen this lump before. The frosted lip of her scarf scratched her chin as her breathing accelerated. She approached the lump, placing one foot in front of the other without a sound.

A man lay in the snow. An actual person. His black hair was matted with dirt and dried blood and his face marred with cuts and scrapes. Both eyes were black, one was so swollen she could only see a slit where the lids met. Then her gaze landed on his pointed ear and her breath hitched.

A sapien.

She almost turned and fled, but what would be the point? Sapiens were faster, stronger, better. He could easily catch a human girl. But would he?

The girl looked down at the rest of the body. He wore a kind of battle armour made from hard leather and metal plates. It was ripped and cracked in places, blood seeping out from underneath the protective shields. Her eyes wandered down to the leg that was clearly broken, jutting out in an unnatural position. Grimacing she gulped in fresh air as she felt her last meal rolling around in her stomach. She looked away to the surrounding forest to keep from vomiting.

There were no tracks leading to the body. He was only partially buried in snow, so should have left a trail indicating how he arrived here. Still rooted on the spot the girl glanced around forest with a frown of concentration. A raven croaked above her and she tipped her head up to the sky. Branches had been snapped and hung up loose in the canopy.

He fell.

The sapien groaned and shifted, finally jolting her out of place as she gasped in shock. She had assumed it was dead. But then it rolled on to its belly and revealed a set of wings that had been concealed in the snow.

"Huh. That's new."

*****************************

The fire crackled to life in the stone fireplace and the girl carried a flame over to the oil lamp on the table. As the light illuminated the tiny space in her cabin she collapsed into her only chair and closed her eyes. The man lay on her bed in the corner of the room, his body awkwardly propped on its side to prevent further damage to his wings.