His eyes were violet, solid violet. There was no pupil, no boundaries in them she could discern, yet she could somehow feel where his gaze was focused – toward Aden and Idith, over near Elo’s territory.
He wasn’t human, that seemed clear to her – his skin was white, his hair platinum. And of course, there were his strange eyes. She thought of him as a he because he seemed to have male features – she could even make out his Adam’s apple – but even at this distance, she was certain he wasn’t human.
Suddenly, she felt his eyes dart toward her – just a subtle shift in his face, but there was no mistaking the feel of his gaze. Their eyes met. A shiver ran through her, and she felt frozen.
Like last time …
He darted toward her, impossibly fast. She shut her eyes, cringed away from the impact…
And nothing. No impact, no touch, no rush of air as he passed. Confused, she slowly opened one eye.
He stood motionless before her. He seemed to be looking through her now, though she was certain their eyes had met before he moved.
She could study him more closely now. He was slender, and his white skin seemed even more stark up close, truly bloodless. No, she thought, not human at all.
His gaze shifted slightly. He was still looking through her, still seemed totally unaware of her, but the movement made her flinch.
Was it just coincidence, that their eyes had met?
She looked at him over one last time, and – satisfied that he wouldn’t move again, she turned away from him, toward Idith and Aden. The echoes of their voices hung in the air, seeming to come from nowhere was she strode up to them.
[…no one’s here.]
She moved beside Aden. He was crouched down, examining the ground.
[Looks like it was here a minute ago.]
[It does]
Aden lifted his head to look at the distant hill. The crest of it was obscured by the snow, a blanket of white that smothered all defining lines.
[Snow’s going to fill in the tracks soon.]
[Looks that way.]
Aden nodded as he agreed with Idith’s assessment. Ilyn looked down at what he’d been examining – a faint footprint, already filling in with snow. She cast a glance back at the white figure that still stood, staring. Was it his footprint?
[Let’s go back.]
Aden rose, turned in her direction. He seemed completely unharmed. As he moved, the whiteness of the snow seemed to increase, then plunge into blackness as the dream ended.
She opened her eyes with a gasp.
The room was cold. It was always cold in the Biflton Mansion. She had thought she would get used to it, but she hadn’t. It still hung on her, like a dull ache that never quite faded. The Delrose maids worked as best they could to shield her from it, but never quite could.
She seemed to feel it more since the Delrose doctor, Ves, had been to see her. “A fragile woman from the warm region,” he’d remarked. No judgement in his voice, no condescension. Just a dispassionate diagnosis, as though he’d remarked on the color of her hair.
That image wouldn’t leave her. Fragile – she hadn’t thought of herself as so until coming here, but now seemed to accept the diagnosis, as she accepted the endless discomfort of the cold. She didn’t know if the people of the winter region were just hardier, or if she were uniquely fragile among those of the warm region – there were no other warm-region people here to compare herself to.
The room’s thick blackout curtain fluttered as an especially cold draft slipped in under it. Normally, the sky of Biflten was overcast, the clouds just thin enough that you could mark the positions of the sun and moon, but not so thin that they sent meaningful light into the room. Having the windows closed with the curtains drawn at least kept out most of the chill…most. But now a cold wind that felt like a knife grazing her skin slipped in past the curtain.
The window was open. Behind the curtain, the wind slammed it in its frame with a loud thump.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, as the movement of the curtain had brought her attention to something else – a figure, silhouetted by the light coming in at the curtain’s edge. For a panicked heartbeat, she imagined the violet-eyed creature from her dream before she registered the differences. The silhouette was shorter, with the outlines of wavy hair and a more feminine shape.
“Who…?” she asked, her eyes locked on the shape just as the door burst open.
“Ma’am!” exclaimed Etra as she ran into the room. Her dress fluttered, giving a glimpse of her legs as she smoothly produced a dagger from somewhere underneath it.
“Aaaah!” the shadow gave a shocked cry as the lights suddenly came up. Something flew up from the intruder and landed in front of Ilyn. Her mind puzzled a second before recognizing it, so out of place it was in the winter region.
“A…flower?”
The red blossom, fresh, lay atop the cloud of the white cotton blanket on the bed. She knew this flower – not because she was from the warm region, but because she had seen it before.
“Etra, stop!” she said suddenly.
His eyes were violet, solid violet. There was no pupil, no boundaries in them she could discern, yet she could somehow feel where his gaze was focused – toward Aden and Idith, over near Elo’s territory.
He wasn’t human, that seemed clear to her – his skin was white, his hair platinum. And of course, there were his strange eyes. She thought of him as a he because he seemed to have male features – she could even make out his Adam’s apple – but even at this distance, she was certain he wasn’t human.
Suddenly, she felt his eyes dart toward her – just a subtle shift in his face, but there was no mistaking the feel of his gaze. Their eyes met. A shiver ran through her, and she felt frozen.
Like last time …
He darted toward her, impossibly fast. She shut her eyes, cringed away from the impact…
And nothing. No impact, no touch, no rush of air as he passed. Confused, she slowly opened one eye.
He stood motionless before her. He seemed to be looking through her now, though she was certain their eyes had met before he moved.
She could study him more closely now. He was slender, and his white skin seemed even more stark up close, truly bloodless. No, she thought, not human at all.
His gaze shifted slightly. He was still looking through her, still seemed totally unaware of her, but the movement made her flinch.
Was it just coincidence, that their eyes had met?
She looked at him over one last time, and – satisfied that he wouldn’t move again, she turned away from him, toward Idith and Aden. The echoes of their voices hung in the air, seeming to come from nowhere was she strode up to them.
[…no one’s here.]
She moved beside Aden. He was crouched down, examining the ground.
[Looks like it was here a minute ago.]
[It does]
Aden lifted his head to look at the distant hill. The crest of it was obscured by the snow, a blanket of white that smothered all defining lines.
[Snow’s going to fill in the tracks soon.]
[Looks that way.]
Aden nodded as he agreed with Idith’s assessment. Ilyn looked down at what he’d been examining – a faint footprint, already filling in with snow. She cast a glance back at the white figure that still stood, staring. Was it his footprint?
[Let’s go back.]
Aden rose, turned in her direction. He seemed completely unharmed. As he moved, the whiteness of the snow seemed to increase, then plunge into blackness as the dream ended.
She opened her eyes with a gasp.
The room was cold. It was always cold in the Biflton Mansion. She had thought she would get used to it, but she hadn’t. It still hung on her, like a dull ache that never quite faded. The Delrose maids worked as best they could to shield her from it, but never quite could.
She seemed to feel it more since the Delrose doctor, Ves, had been to see her. “A fragile woman from the warm region,” he’d remarked. No judgement in his voice, no condescension. Just a dispassionate diagnosis, as though he’d remarked on the color of her hair.
That image wouldn’t leave her. Fragile – she hadn’t thought of herself as so until coming here, but now seemed to accept the diagnosis, as she accepted the endless discomfort of the cold. She didn’t know if the people of the winter region were just hardier, or if she were uniquely fragile among those of the warm region – there were no other warm-region people here to compare herself to.
The room’s thick blackout curtain fluttered as an especially cold draft slipped in under it. Normally, the sky of Biflten was overcast, the clouds just thin enough that you could mark the positions of the sun and moon, but not so thin that they sent meaningful light into the room. Having the windows closed with the curtains drawn at least kept out most of the chill…most. But now a cold wind that felt like a knife grazing her skin slipped in past the curtain.
The window was open. Behind the curtain, the wind slammed it in its frame with a loud thump.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, as the movement of the curtain had brought her attention to something else – a figure, silhouetted by the light coming in at the curtain’s edge. For a panicked heartbeat, she imagined the violet-eyed creature from her dream before she registered the differences. The silhouette was shorter, with the outlines of wavy hair and a more feminine shape.
“Who…?” she asked, her eyes locked on the shape just as the door burst open.
“Ma’am!” exclaimed Etra as she ran into the room. Her dress fluttered, giving a glimpse of her legs as she smoothly produced a dagger from somewhere underneath it.
“Aaaah!” the shadow gave a shocked cry as the lights suddenly came up. Something flew up from the intruder and landed in front of Ilyn. Her mind puzzled a second before recognizing it, so out of place it was in the winter region.
“A…flower?”
The red blossom, fresh, lay atop the cloud of the white cotton blanket on the bed. She knew this flower – not because she was from the warm region, but because she had seen it before.
“Etra, stop!” she said suddenly.
