Winter's Call [SOLO]

They were getting worse.

They had always been getting worse, though she hadn't wanted to admit it. Every day she ignored them, tried to pass them off as just dreams, they became more horrific, more realistic, burned into her mind with the force of the sun. What she had seen, all of the destruction and the deaths, were unforgettable. Whenever she closed them, she could see these people who had died, or would die. She didn't know. Was she seeing the past or the future? Was she seeing things that might be, would be, or things that would never be? Was she altering these things simply by seeing them occur?

She had no answers, and that was why she was here.

Rainleneth stared up at the stars she could glimpse through the canopy of leaves above her perch. The tree she had settled on was an oak, the thick trunk splaying outward in a mess of crooked, gnarled branches. She had climbed to a branch halfway up its impressive height and settled herself down for the night, but she found she couldn't sleep.

It was hard being away from home. She hadn't expected it would be difficult, hadn't expected to notice it so soon, but the silence was profound.

Oh, she knew the sounds of crickets and the chirping of the bats in the night, the rustle of the wind through leaves and the smell in the air that was distinctly night. But there was a lack of breathing at her side, a silence where she hadn't noticed the murmuring of voices at night, the shuffling of legs and bodies as people moved in their sleep. It was amazing, she thought, how little she noticed the little sounds of her kinfolk around her, and how bereft she felt now without them near.

She studied the glowing lights of her favorite constellation, wondering if her archer-kin were awake, thinking of her.

The stars blurred in her vision, the white glow expanding outward until it consumed her vision, until the world around her was white and cold.

The snow was coming down too thick to see beyond, the flakes sticking to her lashes, her skin no longer warm enough to melt them. Her face was freezing, burning with cold, but her fingers and toes had already long since gone numb. Still, she shuffled through the thigh-deep blanket of cold. There was somewhere she needed to be, but it was taking so long to get there and she was so cold.

Her feet slipped on a patch of ice. The snow buried her in a grave of white as she fell face-forward, biting her teeth through her lip and banging her head on the ground.

The ice sliced her hands open as she pushed herself back to her feet, digging her way out of the snow. She sobbed as she stumbled her way forward.

"Help me," she begged, blood running down her chin from the wound in her lip. "Help me, please. Rainleneth. Help me."

Rainleneth sat up with a gasp. The sight of leaves swaying in the wind flashed in front of her eyes as gravity made a bid for her attention. With a panicked yell, she failed for purchase and only her quick movements saved her from a horrible headache or worse. Pulling herself back up on the branch, she breathed out a sigh and leaned forward until her forehead brushed against the rough bark.

Another vision. This time she had been the subject of her vision, but from the words that had been uttered, it hadn't truly been her. Someone had called for her help, called her by name, but the only voice she had heard was her own.

More questions, she thought wearily, and she didn't know where to go for answers. Snow. I... she was walking through snow.

North, then. North, into the icy regions of the world, and hopefully toward some answers.

Mountains were not what Rain had expected.

From within the confines of the forest, they looked like silver teeth gnawing on the sky. She had reached their base that morning, however, and silver they were not. At their base, they weren't even grey. Green grass tickled her legs as she waded through the knee-high vegetation. The mountains were tall but not as steep as they appeared from afar. The incline stretched her calf muscles, but it wasn't unpleasant.

The path she was traveling was crafted by the frequent travel of animals, perhaps deer or wolves. She could spot the bent blades of grass and the prints in the packed dirt and her own feet followed their mark.

The path didn't move straight up the mountain but meandered around it, circling, wandering. She followed it, at ease. Traveling north required she pass through the mountains and it wouldn't do to rush and exhaust herself early.

The wind was blowing across the mountain, whipping her hair behind her and bringing with it the smell of blossoms and the earth. The northern part of the world wouldn't have this smell. She wondered how much she would miss it. Would she remember it once she had traveled far enough that the smell washed out of her skin, her clothes?

The thought terrified her, but not as much as the memory of the snow biting her hands, numbing them to nothing. '

North. She had no choice. Whatever happened, the loss of her memory, her home, she had to go north. She didn't know why, but nonetheless, her legs kept her moving forward.

One day, she would know why.