The Unicorn Rider

The Snow

"Some memories never leave your bones. Like salt in the sea: they become part of you."
~Paperwings

I opened my eyes to a whirling blizzard of snow and I blinked my eyes shut in surprise. The snow fell so thickly that besides the glowing Christmas lights of a brightly lit house about twenty feet to my left, the rest of the world glowed an impossible white. As I watched, a set of footsteps directly in front of me were quickly filled. I watched them go.
My lips tingled. I put a hand up to my mouth and they warmed my chilled fingers. I felt lost and confused as I stood staring at the winter landscape. My mind felt fuzzy, but my thoughts were still struggling to line up. Still, something didn't make sense. I didn't really remember how I got here. But where was here? And why was it snowing? I distinctly remember... I trailed off, shaking my head as if I expected the memories to dislodge from their hiding spots.
And now?.... I was here. I shook my head again, trying to dislodge the sudden headache that had appeared with my struggling thoughts. It didn't help.
I frowned and looked down at my clothes, noticing for the first time that they were different. I stood in the calf deep snow in a pair of soft leather boots. I wore a pair of pants and a rough hewn short sleeve tunic. The clothes were obviously homemade. Thin ties of leather roped and knotted through the pants to tie them tight around my hips. I had a small pack tied onto my back.
I had no recollection of ever wearing something like these clothes. I let out an audible snort as I realized that this is what a historic outfit would look likely - hand loomed fabric woven of thick wool with snags and small holes indicating that the outfit was well worn. I would not win any fashion shows. This is what I imagined Robin Hood to wear. Even the boots were simple, soft leather wrapped with rawhide. The sole was soft but thick enough that my toes were not chilled. I frowned again and turned on my heels towards the house.
Although I was but a few feet away, the snow was deep enough that I sunk up to right below the knee. I trudged through the endless expanse of winter wonderland until I finally reached the apple red front door. A wreath had been hung, and it was made of evergreens that smelled like Christmas and the heady scent of a wheat harvest. I went to knock on the door but as I raised up my hand, I paused as I saw a flash of black. Slowly, hesitantly, as if I was scared at what I was going to find, I opened my palm and gazed at my hand. It looked like I had done a high five into a bucket of black paint and forgotten to wipe it off. My palm and all the undersides of my hand- fingertips and fingers at about halfway the depth of my skin- was a black that starkly contrasted the thick sheets of snow that continued to plummet down. Cautiously, I rubbed my black palm, hesitating when the color didn't come off. It appeared permanent. Did I dye it? A tattoo? I tried to remember anything that would have caused this but my mind felt hazy when I tried and my headache gave a quick throb as if in retaliation.
I was already pretty light skinned, so this was crazy. It was literally an ebony black. I flexed my fingers a few times, but couldn't feel anything different other than the startling color.
I jumped a little when I heard a bout of singing coming from inside the house. I realized that through the bubbled glass on either side of the door, laughter and the soft carols of Jingle Bell Rock could be heard.
As I tried to make sense of everything and understand what had happened, I shut my eyes and leaned on the door to steady my swirling thoughts. As soon as I could, I knocked on the door. Immediately, the talking stopped. I could hear through the warped glass as a teenage sounding girl reassured someone that she'd get it. She hummed along with the music as she approached the door, but it stopped when she opened it.
"Archer?" She whispered, a hand coming up to her mouth. I noticed that it was shaking.
"Hey?" I replied, giving her a small half smile. My head still felt foggy like I had just woken up from a nap and was forgetting something important. The girl looked at me with a crinkled brow, her eyes sliding swiftly up and down my body as I was examined carefully. She looked eerily familiar, I noticed. Slowly, her hand came up to her mouth and then tears welled up in her eyes. She burst out sobbing.
"Archer!" She exclaimed, stepping down into the snow to wrap her hands around me. She squeezed, holding me tightly.
"I can't believe it." Her voice trembled. "You're back." She engulfed me with her arms, holding me so close that I was afraid I'd break. I gingerly hugged her back, noticing how much taller I was than her.
"Hey..." I patted her back, and she squeezed me tighter in response. She looked familiar but I couldn't place her.
"Archer?" I heard a man's voice ask quietly, as if he was shocked to see me. I lifted my head and locked eyes with him. He looked like someone I should know but I didn't recognize him. The man's hair was gray enough to account for the lines drawn across his face and his slouched shoulders, but he looked barely in his forties. When he smiled at me, his face lit up. He gasped happily and raised his hands, trembling. And then it hit me.
"Dad?" I asked. My voice came out deeper than I remember. He gazed into my eyes for a moment and it felt like an eternity as my whole soul was laid before him.
And then he rushed into us and his large cold hands wrapped around us, squeezing tightly.
"Beth." I cried, pulling my younger sister back in. She had grown about six inches, gained about a foot of hair, and her face and body had aged into that of a young woman. She renewed her viselike grip, openly sobbing now. Something in me told me to savor this and I wrapped her tighter, bringing her into me. A few sniffles escaped her before she started sobbing into my chest. She gripped me tightly as if I was the only person left alive in this planet. Her grip was astonishing, but even more than that was the sensation of her tears soaking through my rapidly soiling shirt.
More faces crept out from the doorway, watching me with varying shocked glances. At first, they blended together as strangers, but I began to recognize a few. A woman stood at the doorway, her hands covering her mouth, her skin as pale as a ghost as she stared at me. The matching curly blonde hair and strong jaw line was the deal breaker.

"Mom?" I whispered, and the woman barreled into the group hug.
I was ushered inside and into the living room, hands brushing me the entire time as if they had to make sure I was really there.
They had all changed. Dad moved more slowly and looked older. Mom's favorite Christmas sweater hung loosely on her shoulders and she kept touching me, especially stroking my face and fingering my long hair. She had started crying, and in between absently stroking me, she would wipe her tears away with trembling fingers. Beth sat on the other side of Dad, watching me with a mixture of amazement and... Was she nervous? Yeah, she looked nervous. I turned to look at Mom and jumped when Beth ran her finger along my arm.

"You've changed." Beth whispered. Dad pretended not to hear it, but Mom's grip tightened and she started sobbing now.

"Shhh, Mom." I soothed, hugging her tightly. "It's ok." I whispered in her ear. She trembled against me.

"I was so scared, Archie... I didn't know if you would ever come back." She sobbed.
"Shhhhh. It's ok, Mom. I'm here now." She nodded into me, sniffed, and squeezed me again.
"Margaret, it's been a long day and I bet Archie is tired. Lets deal with this tomorrow." Dad said, helping her to her feet. She nodded, wiping her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Archer. David, you're right... A good night sleep would do us all some good. Beth, would you help put your brothers in bed?" Beth nodded and left. Mom turned back to me and managed a shaky smile.
"We... just gave Chandler your room. You can have the family room tonight." I nodded, and she quickly made me up a bed out of the spare mattress and some blankets and pillows. She pulled out a pair of my pajamas from storage. Then, she hugged me again whispered goodnight, and left.
I went to change in the bathroom. My old clothes were still as odd as before. For a moment, I stopped and stared at my reflection. I had grown a lot. All of the baby fat in my cheeks were gone, and I had the traditionally prominent and square Summer jawline. My eyes had faded from a dark blue into more of a light grey color. I blinked, wondering if it was just a trick of the light, but the same colorless eyes stared back at me. My curly blonde hair teased over my ears, if I pulled a strand then it extended almost to my chin. I had a small fading scar on my right cheek as if from a whiplash from something, a thin line darting towards my ear.
Out of curiosity, I opened the pack that I had been carrying. It was made of a thick fabric rolled cleverly into a covered pouch and tied with a leather rawhide rope. First out of the bag was a change of clothes, similar to the ones I had on but the dark grey shirt had a large tear on the right torso with a slight reddish tinge around the area. I lifted the fabric up to my nose and sniffed. Blood. The smell was old, but strong. Hesitantly, I lifted up the odd shirt I was currently wearing and traced a jagged scar directly under the right side of my rib cage. I ripped my shirt off, staring at the bathroom mirror.

"Creation..." I muttered, staring at the scars and bruises that pocket marked my body. The first wound I found was the largest, and was still red and angrily colored. The skin was bumpy, as it had not finished healing. Skimming across more scars, I realized that I had a six pack! I traced the hard lines of my stomach reverently before rubbing my fingers over the large bumpy area of raised skin.
I took the rest of my clothes off quickly and jumped into the shower. My old shampoos were gone so I borrowed Charles- Old Spice Maximum Scent, and got as clean as I could. When I was done, I grabbed my pajamas but discovered that either they had shrunk or I had grown, because they didn't fit. I hesitated, then put my odd clothes back on. I rolled the pack up again, my fingers moving swiftly and deftly as I quickly tied the rawhide around it. I didn't know where I had been or what I was doing, but that was for another night. Tonight, I slept.