Glass Winter | Ch. I

Sevt knew of the white bear pursuing him for two sleeps now. However long before that it had noticed him, he could not say. Not much else moved here in a place so barren.

It doesn’t help that all that I wear is stark against the snow.

He was a grey spot against the white underneath and the black overhead. His light stick was all that kept the darkness at bay, and what a miracle that it did not want for kindling, at least for both of the weeks Sevt had borne it in his possession. A long steel shaft just under six feet in length, divided between an extensive handle and the operative component at its head which, with a vertical jolt, could reveal a grated lamp of iron from a sheath that usually curtained it, dangling at the end of the stick. The lantern burned red when revealed, its embers pollinating the polar night, alighting the ground before Sevt in scintillating white and cyan.

I’ve forgotten the scent of grass. The rustle of trees.

Objectively. He could not recall a time when his boots were not laden with snow. If not for the source of the flame inside the lamp, he might have considered awaiting his bear’s approach, if only to steal its coat. A grey mantle whose strands culminated in voluminous points kept him warm enough, garbed over his jacket and shirt. It did not come from any beast he knew of. Either way, if he was to lose himself in the frozen wild, he would need something white, or to bleach the overgarment of its natural dye, something that the permanent absence of sun would not allow, and which a bonfire would take months to achieve. An outcrop of stone or a highland could shelter him for a few hours, to conceal his location and the light of his flame from the bear, though it would only be a short-lived remedy.

The glass castle…

That would have to wait. Everything else yet to come would have to wait. Sevt was malnourished enough to know the futility of facing a white bear alone, yet even with an able body would he not take such a risk, only as a final decision when all else failed. For now, he would need to make the landscape his own. In its snow would he need to hide.

The early signs of illness were already making themselves manifest, and to expose himself to the cold longer than needed was not something Sevt wished for.

I wish only for the glass castle.

He had never seen it, not in the flesh nor as a picture. He knew not what its appearance could be save for what its name denoted. Yet since he was snatched, and placed here, did he know it was the only way forward. In his dreams, every night, without fail, the dancing lights would grace him with their majesty, and the winds would whisper of a…

“…place without pain or fear, found through the shallow gate in the well of the glass castle.”

There I must go.

Yet since the bear his dreams had gone silent. Dark like the sky in his waking days when he would seek an outcrop of stone or a hill where he could lay his head to rest.

I must seek the dancing lights.

Those that coloured the sky. Outside his dreams he had yet to see them, and he knew that he would once the bear was dealt with. Save for the dirk at his belt, Sevt could rely only on the light stick as a means of defence. For now, he shifted the lamp from dangling on a link of chain to an upright position at the end of the stick, gently pressing the device into the snow with a hiss and a pillar of steam.

He had to be quick. He pissed, then buried the marker of scent with the surrounding snow. If the bear had lost him, he could not have it find him again. If it was still somewhere behind him, he had wasted more than a few precious moments on masking urine when he might have marched on.

Sevt released the protruding lamp with a click, now dangling again, and pushed forward. He would have to rest soon. His strength was waning along with his supply of dried seal which he had hunted down on a frozen fjord that had taken what must have been half a day to cross. The animal had reached its head out from a fissure, and Sevt happened to be standing only a few feet away. A toss of a dirk and that was that. While he could not pull it up onto the ice its body had floated, and an eternity of hacking and cutting later he had attained as much as he could carry for longer than he hoped for; meat, whiskers, some bone, blubber. His stomach had been an empty one for probably a week before the seal, and before that…

In the ice, just before leaving the animal, he thought he had seen her reflection, as if Faith had been standing behind him all along. A moment later it was gone, and turning around he saw only the empty white flatland. And yet her golden hair had been right there. It was one of the few memories he had left of the time before he was snatched.

Soft golden hair…

“Have Faith, and you’ll push through.” One of her many quips.

She might have had blue eyes, though he could not be sure. He could not even tell who she was to him – family or a friend, wife or sister. The thought still kindled his soul, whoever she might have been.

His right foot was numb, and certain steps made it ache. Perhaps he had tied the wrappings too strongly and now eons later he was feeling the effects. He needed to rest.

There were no hills or outcrops in sight. A light wind whistled along the bare, frozen flatland. Snow. So much snow.

It’s probably been a day.

He found it hard to believe he could walk for longer at a time. He would not sleep out in the open with the bear on his tail. Scanning the horizon, Sevt could not make out a moving shape in the white. He spent more than a moment looking in the direction of each of the Eight, then set to work. With another jolt of his staff the chain holding the lamp grew to its full length, extracting from the stick’s interior, and after dropping his sack Sevt spun round in a circle. Once, twice. The lamp on its chain melted the surrounding snow quickly enough, creating a cradle almost two feet in depth.

Pulling on the upper component of the stick the chain retracted back to a single visible link. Sevt pressed the lamp into its solid container, casting him into darkness. No food or fire this day, not without cover. It may have mattered little when he was already a walking light in the darkness for any predator to hunt him down, but the exposure of his scent to the open air tonight would mean endangering himself more than the two previous sleeps. Despite the hindrance, he would need to walk tomorrow without any light at all. By the time he woke the bear might already be upon him.

Now he turned onto his back, concealing the grey mantle with the rest of his garb which, although still visible against the white to a keen eye of a hungry white bear, was far paler than anything else on his persons. The fur would also act as a layer between him and the snow.

I can’t sleep for too long.

It would soak through eventually. He would only rest for an hour or two, though little control he would have over this plan. Still, sleeping soundly typically meant a longer slumber. Sevt would be surprised if he could, in his current state, fall asleep at all.

Faith…

Just thinking the name made his heart beat slower.

Have faith…

At least while he slept. There was little else to be done. But if the bear came…

Sevt hugged the staff, gazing at the night sky which was starless for the first sleep since his arrival. It was the darkest it had ever been. He felt his fingers tighten around the stick…

Hoarse, heavy breaths followed by the distant clacking of claws against ice. Sevt must have dozed off though for how long he knew not. He had been found.

He lifted his head by only an inch over the edge of his snowy cradle, and saw the white bear making its slow hefty way across the flatland. If he was lucky it would pass by, though at the detection of his scent he knew it would alter his course to his current position. There was nowhere to go but down, though the shallow depth of the snow prevented this. He saw the animal stop and raise its nose to the air.

Sevt reached into his knapsack and found a seal whisker, then proceeded to dig into the neighbouring snow with his hands, leaving his stick and belongings out in the open. It piled over him as a cold wet blanket that seeped through cloth and skin and bone. He clamped the whisker between his teeth and thrust it through the surface of the snow, and waited.

Not for too long. He felt the ground tremor under the weight of the beast before he heard it inspecting what had been his bed but moments before. Sevt could hardly manage half a breath’s worth of air at a time with the whisker, meanwhile there was the clatter of his staff and soft growling huffs as the bear tried at the seal in his sack. He heard it drag the thing along the ground, possibly out of the cradle itself. His ears and nose only knew snow, but he prevented any repellent reaction by taking in more air, though releasing it out through such a narrow aperture proved thrice as difficult with every attempt. He was growing faint.

Unable to handle it any longer he pushed the snow from his face and heaved in the night air. He heaved it out. No bear was in sight from his narrow field of view, then, looking up at the sky. He thought he heard its retreating steps with its new found meal, but it might have only been the wind picking up. There he lay.

I can’t go on at this rate.

With the tenebrous skies he would not see the dancing lights in his waking hours for a while, and with minimal sleep as was, coupled with his loss of both food and bag, he would not last for much longer.

Providence, guide me…

He could not have been the only one to be snatched and thrown into this silent cold. Sevt had yet to find another living being besides his seal and bear.

“Have Faith.”

But take action. He would.

Following another hour, laying motionless with only his face exposed to the elements, Sevt dug himself out of the snow. He was surprised at how much warmer it had been before standing in the wind; now he felt how much he had soaked through. Shaking snow off his mantle Sevt assessed the damage of his bed. The staff had not interested the bear, and save for two strips of dried seal that had tumbled out of the sack the rest of his belongings were gone, pawprints receding into the distance. The lantern, even when encased, was pleasantly warm to hold though it did not give off any light. Sevt could not afford illuminating his position regardless, so, clutching the lamp with both hands, he proceeded in the opposite direction of the bear’s retreat. He no longer had a choice but to find a highland in which to seek sanctuary.

And if I return to the fjord, there’s a chance it will lead me to others.

Where there were rivers there were cities. If none were here, there would at least be those people with the same logic as Sevt’s. He would outpace the bear, however briefly, by backtracking, and he would find the highlands in which he sought sanctuary over a day ago. If he lost the beast, he knew, the dreams would return as would the lights and the glass castle. If he was fortunate, the latter might even rest on a river like the very one he was searching for.

Allowing no light and feeding only on snow but saving the remaining seal, Sevt did his best to trace his steps back the way he had come. The winds had long cleared his footprints, but the stars had returned and, orienting solely on them, he sought for mountains on the horizon. From here, they would come just before the fjord. He would seek shelter in their heights before proceeding to the river the following day. That day had no events to speak of. Marching through the darkness with his closed staff Sevt would periodically glance over his shoulder to see if the snow moved. It would be still, and so he pressed on.

“Have faith, and you’ll push through.”

Sevt held onto it. He knew not of any prayers he could say, and if he did he would not say them. It felt foolish. All the same, his thoughts turned to the skies and the lights that had once guided him.

Why have they forsaken me?

Why had fate forsaken him by tossing him into a frozen barren?

Mountains. Grey juts against a black sky, but they were there. Sevt felt his pace quicken, though he maintained his strength without burning through. If not by chance he let his eyes fall from the highland to the ground he would have missed the sled tracks. He stopped.

Indeed, pawprints and two sled tracks marked the snow, clearly fresh. Huskies led by a human.

Have I not been forsaken…?

They led to the highland, which would not make sense unless there was a passage that Sevt was not aware of but the rider knew otherwise. His chances of catching up were slim to none, unless the company decided to rest further down their trail. Sevt had only to follow the tracks before the winds blew them away.

And before I freeze.

He had only grown colder over the course of the day. With the seal blubber in his divested sack Sevt could only rely on the source of the flame in his staff, which showed no signs of waning. All things came to end, however, and sooner or later that which bestowed him with warmth would, too, fade to nothing. The day before, he realised, its glow had already been dimmer than when first he had found it.

Sevt glanced over his shoulder. The snow moved on the horizon. His heart palpitated.

Checking for the dirk on his belt and readjusting his hold on the staff, Sevt quickened his trot through the snow. So long as he was in the dark, as he had been for a full day, even with clothing that stood out against the whiteness, he had time. But the bear would soon be upon him regardless. He had to make it to the highland.

Sevt removed the mantle of fur, rolling it up and bearing it so that his body obstructed the colour from the distant gaze of a white bear. He looked over his shoulder again. It hadn’t yet seen him. Perhaps.

I might be putting the others in danger by leading the bear straight to them.

In which case he would have to temporarily forfeit his reunion with a fellow human by escaping into the heights and hiding there. He kept walking for an hour, finally approaching a slope that was neither steep nor gradual. Sevt looked over his shoulder.

The white bear was running across the flatland towards him. For the first time since their encounter all those days ago.

“Looks like the seal’s reinvigorated your strength.”

And now it wished for larger prey.

Sevt donned his mantle and slipped his staff through its collar and the back of his belt. It choked him but he scrambled upwards regardless. The snow would give way and reveal frozen rock underneath with little to no grip, forcing Sevt to scale the rise horizontally before continuing his ascent on surer footing. He had to hope the icy slope would hinder the bear as much as it hindered him.

Above and to the right he saw the trough of two converging highland peaks, the shortest possible climb he could manage, and made straight for it. Sevt would not dare look behind him but only held his hand at the ready to unsheathe his staff. He clenched his teeth whenever he placed pressure on the foot from the day before. He had forgotten to loosen the wrappings but this must have been different; something terribly wrong had become of the limb. His fingers, exposed from a lack of mittens, were numb and nigh unresponsive as he climbed. Sevt had almost reached the trough. He had heard the huffs of the bear only moments before it had grabbed him.

Sevt was breathing snow, coughing up yesterday’s lunch. His back was punctured and crushed by an unfathomable weight, pressed against and removed from the mountainside over and over. He managed to find the end of his staff and pull the scalding lantern out of its case. He felt the grip loosen and briefly heard the bear take a step back, before stabbing its closest paw with his dirk. Managing to scuttle away in the blur that followed Sevt made for the trough, falling straight through four feet of snow.

The winds have made it settle and collect between peaks.

The chokehold from mantle and staff tightened in an instant as the bear clamped onto his back, pulling him out of the snow and tossing him against the mountainside. In the confusion he heard the clatter of the light stick as it rolled away into the night. Sevt’s back and foot were screaming, his fingers were finding it hard to hold the dirk as it were. He would push himself up only to collapse in burning agony. For a moment he sighted the bear in his periphery – gaunt, fur draped loosely over a lean frame – before it charged.

Faith…

With a breath Sevt rolled deep into the snow of the trough, listening through the noise in his ears for the clacking of claws against ice. He had never known cold like this before, and as he dug deeper before reaching rock all he felt was the seeping wetness of disease and darkness. The antithesis of his lifeblood soaked into his skin and his clothes, dormant forevermore until he had come, then vengeful with hunger. He crawled, still holding his breath. His eyes stung and felt like they would freeze, but his ears heard the huffs and the hawks of the beast above. He heard it step foot into the trough, ginger and cautious, avoiding any and all areas through which it could sink. Whatever faint starlight penetrated the gloom, Sevt saw it fade.

I’m not going yet.

Knowing it to be the bear’s shadow, through his pain and his wounds Sevt pushed off the trough’s bottom, through the snow, driving his dirk into the bear’s stomach and inhaling the night air. The animal howled and thrashed about, sinking into the snow; Sevt carved his way through to the heart, its insides raining warm onto his frozen self.

It was over. The animal was losing its strength, and before Sevt could retract his blade and escape he was crushed. In the moment that the bear still had the will to stand Sevt managed to push his head out from under its belly and closer to the slope of the trough, pressing his cheek against the icy rock. The rest of his body was now pinned under a beast which breathed no more. He felt the right half of his ribs crack and one of his legs caving in. Sevt wheezed while trying to push the bear off himself but to no avail. He could not help but scoff.

“After all of this…”

He was already fading before finishing the sentence, his grip loosening on the dirk. As Sevt drifted off he dreamed not of the glass castle, nor of the dancing lights that would guide him to it, not of trees nor of Faith. Instead, he heard distant barking and the movement of living things through the snow. Growing closer and louder.

I probably shouldn’t rest for too long.

If at all. Once the barking had ceased from what could only be a human’s command, he saw, since what felt like an eternity, the silhouette of a fellow man.