Glass Winter | Chapter X

When it became too much all Mal could do was retreat from the world, despite his high position within the commune. He could no longer cast his thoughts onto all that was beautiful, nor observe the darkness and all its frightful potential. No. He could only be.

There was a mound of collected snow, shovelled and abluted in icy water, and left to freeze. Stairs were carved into its side, and it was crested by a hide of caribou and skin of a walrus. The wall surrounding the commune was seven feet tall, as was this hill, though the section before it reached ten feet in height. Some of the revitalising winds found their way over the barrier and licked at Mal’s skin, but never broke it.

His waking hours were spent existing, a strategy he had adopted to survive. He would live once they had escaped. He remembered names, and was kept in the know on the daily operations of the commune’s builders, anglers, and hunters. The latter were useful only for luring the rare seal that came too close to their perforated network of fishing holes. The anglers had to communicate quickly whenever the waters became disturbed, and the right men would come for the job. The scouts had the rare responsibility of investigating the quality of the ground before a section of the commune expanded, lest some ice should collapse under its weight. And now they would push their methods and qualifications to the limit, by embarking on a trek beyond the wall, across ice and barren wastes.

Everybody was tasked with responsibility. It was the thin line that separated them all from madness, and gave hope for escape. Mal’s job was seeing over it all and kindling that hope while his own burned far too low.

He ascended the hill, taking a seat cross-legged upon reaching its windswept apex. He felt the breeze against his skin, with a chill tingling down his back, and closed his eyes. He let his body sink into the snow. Muscles limp and still.

Any and all tension had to be released to achieve clarity. Mal hadn’t realised how dependent his mind had become on the stillness of his body, and all that worked inside.

As much as the commune depended on his foresight and wisdom, Mal could not afford to care more than was needed if he wanted them all to survive. In the beginning, he could never stay sane long enough to protect them under the burden of responsibility. Perhaps that’s why so many of them perished upon the ringwoodite sea…

Enough.

He stilled.

He prayed.

For revelation.

That was all he could ask for. Within the blizzard, with no way to go, as the dancing lights had always altered direction, as if by design – as if requiring absolute faith in their guidance – their commune was at a standstill. They needed a miracle.

“I’ve separated myself from my thoughts. I’ve been living by faith, and not by sight. By all the grace which you can bestow, grant me a sign…”

Silence, within his mind and without. He kept it still, and waited.

Howling winds and tingling skin.

He whispered the name of his Lord. A fresh breath of air inflated his chest, and his sight became clean.

Nothing.

And yet he knew that feeling. It always happened right before clarity. He was feeling peace.

Its almost undeserved. There’s so much to do.

And yet he felt peace. And the peace was good. It pushed all his anguish aside, for now, and abluted him in the spirit of solace. He could breathe. And he did.

There can be no fear.

It was the fear which nearly brought an end to the lives of Sevt, Quin, and Aurora. It had ended the lives of the old commune. Fear obstructed all knowledge and foresight. A dark, cumbersome shroud that forbade all dreams of fortune and hope. Hope was what they needed. Blind hope, or hope founded on truth or the logic of wise men. But without a second of doubt Mal knew that they needed hope.

But we already know this. How is this different?

“It cannot exist while fear persists.”

That was this day’s revelation. No matter the strength of that painful persistence, no matter the words that uttered so quiet within the minds of everyone in the commune – including Mal’s – they were not to listen. It would pass, like all things do. And when it passed, that’s when reflection began. That’s when a path forward could be forged. But there could be no fear. None.

The scriptures taught time and time again;

“And I cannot have no fear unless I place my faith in something beyond me. For now, I have little control, but You hold things dearly and rightly. You have a plan that none can forsake.”

Malcolm clasped his hands in supplication and gratitude, and for many a moment could feel the winds no more.

~~~~~

Sevt had his lunch outside of Malcolm’s shelter; dried moose and sedge. A bitter meal, and tough to eat. But it sufficed. And the fresh air reminded him that he was still alive.

“Go now, Sevt. Do not look back.”

How could he not look back? The food was now unbearable, and Sevt put it aside. Leaving a frightened, old man like Quin in a place like this was not an option.

But he protested so vehemently…

It didn’t matter.

Sevt scooped up a handful of snow, and drank it.

He needed to find a way to get out of this place, first of all. In his condition, and with the storm outside and no dancing lights, it would be an impossible feat. It would be an idiotic feat to achieve. Sevt looked around. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry.

If Quin senses or knows that time is short, wouldn’t everyone else know as well?

Perhaps they did. But in this standstill at the edge of the world there was nothing to do but brave the blizzard. It would be foolish, but with his cloak, and some rudimentary shelter that slid across the ice… it was possible. The anglers he had seen before had to fish somewhere, and a shoreline didn’t always run through flatland. Eventually, he would come across a high place, and if he could scale it….

It was unlikely. Finding it was unlikely, and ascending a mountain with a moving shelter of snow was impractical. But it was something.

Sevt saw Aurora from across the courtyard, walking over.

I made a promise to Quin that I would protect her.

Braving the storm by himself was possible. Risking the life of a child was another matter.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“I’m… I’m fine, little one. Now go on.”

I’ll think on this another time….

Furthermore, he would need a sled to traverse such distances with a missing leg. A sled…

Not a bad idea.

“I’ve nowhere to go.” Said Aurora, “Somebody by the name of Palina is meant to be watching over me but I don’t know where she is. The commune’s like a stranger to me.”

Rather, you’re a stranger to them.

Though he knew not why. It was like they had known she was trouble just by seeing her. As if she had been left behind at the hamlet.

“What about Uncle Quin?” Aurora asked, “Where is he?”

“He’s being housed in a corner of the commune. But he seems… lost.”

“He hasn’t been the same since they took him away for questioning. We crossed paths briefly when they were deciding where each of us should be kept. I wanted to see him first but I was told that he isn’t seeing anyone anymore.”

He hasn’t been the same for a while.

“You hungry? That Mal left me some moose. Fine dining if you ignore the state that it’s in.”

“What state?”

“Rotting. He wanted to get rid of it I’d imagine, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”

Aurora shook her head.

“I’m alright. I’ve had some caribou stew.”

“They serving you rotten food too?”

“It seemed fine. Though everyone here does mostly eats fish.”

“Yeah…”

Most denizens would avoid catching Sevt’s eye as they walked past. Those that did would quickly look away. The only ones that showed no fear were vast, scarred men, burnt by the elements. Iron-set eyes.

It’s not safe outside of Mal’s place, despite the protection he promises.

“Well, I’d better be off, Aurora. You too, back to Palina’s.”

His arm trembled when he leaned on his cane for support, hobbling up from the ice.

“Can you really walk, sir?”

“Made it up those caverns, didn’t I? Here the ground is flat.”

“But you weren’t hurt.”

Sevt patted her on the head, “Go home.”

The men from before were waiting by the entrance to Mal’s, stoking one of the fires on the other side of the street from the sentries. They coalesced around a man with a square jaw and no neck, whose head seemed to be built from muscle. His eyes never diverted from Sevt.

Sevt turned around, shifting his weight from the cane to his foot with a hop, praying to never slip each time.

“You’re not going home?”

I’m finding another way home.

Mal didn’t like to have the one tunnel leading to his quarters. Matters were tense in the commune. Sevt had noticed a hallway or two branching off from the main drawing room inside, all excavated from the snow.

“They’ve made a cosy place for themselves here. I’d like to have a wander, get to know the grounds better. A new route home would be good for my head too.”

“Let me help you.”

A smaller hand than his own tugged at his sleeve, but he pushed it away.

“It’s alright, Aurora.”

Sevt turned to face her. Those sad, large eyes. It took him aback.

“Look. I’m not one you should be helping, girl. These people fear us enough. Go talk with the other children, get to know them, prove to them that you’re not a threat, and you’ll be fine.”

He went on his way.

“But you need help, Uncle Sevt.”

He stopped, his arm trembling at his cane. He didn’t expect Aurora to pull at his arm again.

“They won’t think we’re a threat if we’re helping each other. And you need help. Let’s get you to the door.”

She helped Sevt with his balance as he hopped on, and halved the weight he would normally struggle with. They were traversing the courtyard, little by little. Some stopped to watch, before moving on. Sevt did not know where he was going. The tunnels were not a straight shot and could emerge anywhere. Some of the quinzhees and igloos they passed might have been an exit, but proved only to house tired, frightened faces. Still, the two soldiered onward.

One of Mal’s men emerged from behind a wall of snow and inquired as to Sevt’s destination. They had wandered far. He then redirected the captive, taking his arm from Aurora.

“I’ll get him to where he needs to go, girl. You go on, now.”

She understood, and Sevt nodded.

“Thank you. And you too, Aurora.”

She smiled for the first time. Despite his best efforts, Sevt felt himself smiling too.

“Go on. Find the other children. I’m sure they’ll welcome you.”

She agreed, and walked off. Sevt glanced in the scarred men’s direction. They were warming their hands by the fire, still watching him.

“Come on, old man, back to your cave…”

“‘Old man’? I was a young man like you when you were born, I bet.”

“That’s old enough for me, what with a world like this we’re in, one doesn’t tend to last long.”

“Well, I’d ask you to respect your elder, if that’s the case.”

The young man laughed, and helped the other back to Mal’s quarters, to a set of descending stairs off to the side of the main path.

~~~~~

Why can’t I see Uncle Quin? He must be so sad.

Aurora was told that he had been left with the huskies, but that didn’t change the fact that he was alone and separate from the rest of the commune, imprisoned in a corner. Even Sir Sevt did not want her help. It almost seemed like he felt guilty for wanting help.

“Hey wraith girl!”

There was a group of boys. Four of them walking towards her. They were about her age, though two of them, including the one whom had called out, were taller than the rest.

“Demon flesh!”

That was the second one.

I don’t understand.

It was Wilbur. She had learned how to cut timber with him back at the old commune, along with the other children. He had shown her how to hold the axe steady so that it went through and didn’t bounce back, hurting her wrists. He had a broken smile when she had finally gotten it. His teeth had grown into a scowl now.

“Demon flesh!” He pushed her.

The ground knocked the breath out of her lungs. Wilbur only scowled.

“You shouldn’t push girls. Don’t you remember me? It’s Aurora.”

“Shut up.”

The other tall boy placed a hand on his shoulder, “Relax. I don’t think she’s understood yet what she’s done.”

“What’s there to understand? Any dunce who can kick snow should know not to help the visitor.”

Are they… talking about Sevt?

“He’s got a limp.”

They all looked at her stunned.

“He’s got a limp…” She stood up, brushing snow off her coat and trousers, “You would have done the same. But why would you push me? That hurt.”

“Good.”

Wilbur lunged again but was held back by the other boy, whose sharp and narrow face, Aurora saw, was freckled with peeling red skin.

“Listen, girl.” He stepped forward, “Regardless of whether you and Wilbur were once chums, regardless of whether the visitor protected you and Quin on the sea, both him and you have been cursed. Understand? You’re not wanted here.”

He took another step forward.

“We’ve had enough trouble as it is maintaining this commune, and now we discover that the very food we eat is slowly killing us. How do you expect us to react? We would have thought you’d have known this. It might have been the very thing that drove your father and half of the commune over the edge.”

“Don’t…”

Why are they being so cruel…?

“I had no part in that. And I have had… no idea what you’re talking—”

“No idea?”

“No.”

“No idea?” He was shaking his head, “I think you’re lying. No, in fact I strongly believe that you’re lying. I mean look at yourself. Look at us. Look at her…”

His eyes had glanced to somebody far behind Aurora. She wanted to look behind her, but she could see Wilbur readying to attack once more.

“Lying is a sin.” She took a step back.

“And we’re all here because we once sinned, demon shit.” Wilbur took a swing at the girl.

The distance between them allowed Aurora to sidestep. It didn’t stop him from swinging again. The second boy only watched.

Somebody grabbed Wilbur’s arm and pushed him away.

“You and Malcolm again.”

Malcolm?

Aurora looked up at the woman whom had intervened. Who had met them when they had arrived. The pale one with thinning skin.

“Bitch!” Wilbur spat at the woman.

“Hey, enough!” She placed herself between Aurora and the boys, “You’re supposed to be at work, the lot of you, aren’t you?”

Little Malcolm, the second boy, hardly reacted, “So are you. Aren’t you?”

“Then get to work.”

They stayed for a moment, then went their separate ways. The tallest boys retreated to an expanding side of the commune, where some of the builders reacted to their approach and handed them snow axes the length of their arms.

The woman, paler than snow, turned to look at Aurora.

For somebody who looks so weak she has such command in her voice.

And then the appearance dropped as the lines around her eyes and mouth relaxed, turning that ashen woman into a much older lost soul. She still smiled.

“Don’t look at me like that, little one. You’ll get to know the others like me well and soon enough. Once you’ve seen one of us you’ve seen us all.”

“How many… of you are there?”

“More than we’d care to admit.”

Cursed ones?

“That’s right,” the woman went on, “You may not like what Little Mal and his friends have told you about the animals here, but they’re far from wrong.”

She had walked over to hold Aurora’s hand only for the girl to shrink away.

I didn’t mean to do that. She’s going to hate me now.

But the other only smiled again.

“Hey, it’s not contagious. It may be hereditary, but that’s different…” Her voice trailed off, “Never mind that. I’m Palina. And you’re—”

“Aurora.”

“Yes, you are! I know. I was assigned to watch over you while you were asleep. But you must be hungry now. Of course, we have to eat what we get. That’s just the reality of where we are. Forget about those boys.”

“I’ll try. I’m a person who can forgive but... I don’t know if I can forget what they’ve said.”

“Well...”

“And I’m not hungry, thank you. I’ve already eaten.”

“All the same, let’s get you out of the cold.”

Aurora felt a hand on her back as Palina guided her down the lanes between the shelters, “Still, it’s a shame they have to be the way that they are.”

“You’re not obligated to forgive them, Aurora. Not after how they treated you. They might have killed you if given the chance. You remember what happened at the old commune.”

“I remember. But that doesn’t make it right for us to respond in anger as well—”

“Hey.”

They stopped. Palina held Aurora in place by her arms.

“Listen to me. Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Here, we don’t make friends with those who wish us dead. We don’t live by the old morals if we wish to survive. Do you understand?”

I don’t want to believe that.

“We have to accept the circumstances given to us,” Palina continued, “We don’t negotiate with the darkness.”

“According to them we’re the darkness, aren’t we?”

“Aurora. You’re still very young. Do you want your chances to be cut short just because of your morals?”

The solution can’t be that serious. It can’t be.

“I don’t.”

“Then listen to me. To somebody whose days are numbered already.”

Palina stepped back, and offered her hand.

Aurora took it. They walked.

Is this what life has become?

She knew that Palina meant no ill will. But this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be how things ended for everyone here. It couldn’t be....