Frozen in Time

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"Aren't you cold?"

The girl didn't even her head in acknowledgement, just slid one eye in his direction, making him shudder. Eyes every shade of violet, speckled with silver like the night sky above. No human, or even Eldarin had eyes like that. The coloration, certainly, but those eyes seemed to contemplate everything with an ancient sadness, far beyond even what an elf should contain...especially one that had only walked the earth for 14 Winters. He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, realizing that he was staring. The action did not go unnoticed.

"Does my presence bother you?" the voice, though it was from across the room and barely above a whisper, carried like the wind, sending a bolt of ice through him as a chill ran down his spine.

"N-Not at all, my lady," he stammered, hastily gathering the dinner tray, preparing to make his exit. "I merely was concerned. You'll catch a cold, leaving a window open on a night cold as this."

The corner of her lips twitched in what might have been a smile, moonlight transforming alabaster skin into snow and silver hair shine.

"I thank you for your concern," she said softly, "but it is quite unnecessary. No one of my house should ever fear the winds of Winter."

He swallowed as he pulled a string, drawing the glass doors shut. "Not fear, m'lady. Just...have a healthy respect."

That drew a laugh, reminiscent of footsteps falling on freshly fallen snow. "Why should I? For the sake of my health?" She waved a hand disdainfully. "Nothing lasts forever. Not the flowers that wither at the first hint of frost, which in turn melts with the first breath of Spring. Citadels rise and fall, mountains weather away. Dragons age and decay as millennia past, and even the gods themselves fade into memory."

This time, he couldn't hold back the shiver. Just her Winter Eldarin heritage, he reminded himself.

"I see why you're awake so late at night, with such melancholy thoughts," he attempted to joke.

"It was a dream that woke me, actually."

The voice was terse this time. Haunted. The smile dropped, replaced with concern. "A dream, m'lady? I never knew you to be much for fantasy."

"I wish it was," she murmured, almost inaudible. "There I flew on wind among the stars, dancing with the moonlight, brighter and more beautiful than both."

He left without a word, but not before he saw the tear that gathered in her eye, then froze before it fell her face.


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If only, she thought, it had been a dream. She never dreamed, and so she hated the visions that came to her when she shut her eyes and allowed her mind to drift. She hated the way the smells, sights, sounds, sensations assaulted her mind, taunting her with what she could never have. If only they were dreams, she could forget them upon waking. These were too real to be anything less than memories.

That was to be expected, of course, with her heritage. Her house claimed a long and esteemed heritage. The Winter Eldarins were more ancient than the mountain they had built their keep on, and it was even rumored that dragon blood ran in their veins. And rumors they had remained until she had been born, a row of scales down her back. Her mother had died giving birth to her, only further driving away an already naturally distant father.

But these memories...they did not feel like they belonged to any distant ancestor, like borrowed eyes and wings. They were hers, and it was she who soared above the clouds, ushering in the winds of Winter itself with each beat of her wings. And each morning, when she woke, she felt the pain of losing those wings anew. Sleep could not be delayed forever, though many times she had tried. And so, she lay back down, and allowed herself to drift away.

As soon as her eyes shut, she felt herself begin to lift. Each beat of her heart was echoed by that of her wings as they carried her farther and farther from the ground, until at last they stilled, fluttering only occasionally. She'd reached high enough that the gales bore her aloft. The air was cold, of course. She was Winter come to life, and she reveled in the fact a single breath could wither even the largest and most vibrant field. No fire, mortal or otherwise, could ever ward her off.She purred in satisfaction, the sound echoing down the valley like thunder of an approaching storm.

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