Cradle of Blue Waters

​​​​ My child.

Abigail stirred in her rest. The child didn’t realize she had been asleep.

Awake, my child.

The young girl slowly became aware that someone was talking to her as a tiny snowflake landed delicately on her nose, which crinkled under the sensation. Fluttering open her tired eyes, Abigail uncurled her sleeping body and looked around as white clouds released from her lips with each exhale. She found she was no longer surrounded by darkness, and her back was pressed up against the largest willow tree she had ever seen. The tree’s branches hung down all around her, covered in beautiful glimmering frost and intricately patterned icicles that lined the branches.There was a light covering of snow that still revealed the tops of grass blades beyond the perimeters of the grand tree. Beyond the branches of the drooping willow was merely white and silver mist. The place was unrecognizable to her, yet evoked a feeling of familiarity that the child could not put her finger on.

Do not panic. You are home.

The voice rang again in Abigail’s head. It was neither male or female and spoke ever so gently so as not to scare her. Whoever was speaking had a quality that she could only describe as divine, the type of wisdom never possible to achieve in one lifetime. Abigail sat up and quickly looked around for the source of the voice — no one else was there, although she knew she was not alone.

Ten feet in front of her was a small pond, a layer of ice frozen over deep blue water. Beneath the thin layer of ice, the water made little rippling sounds and seemed to move like a lake would in little waves. The pond couldn’t have been any bigger than eight feet wide and across, just big enough to fit under the branches of the willow with her. Little snowflakes drifted from the branches onto the ice, dusting the frozen pond with light and fluffy snow. Beneath the thin ice was no bottom to the pond, an endless blue depth that beckoned the young girl.

“The Heart,” Abigail breathed out, tucking her knees to her chest as she leaned back against the trunk of the willow tree. She knew now she was in The Heart of Winter Mountain and in front of her was the Ever Pond.

You made it, young Abigail, the voice whispered with a sense of loving joy. The voice seemed to come both from all around her and from somewhere from deep within her being.

The triumphant child sat still, blinking. She was speechless for a moment, trying to find words to say.

“Are — are you the Winter Mountain?” she asked quietly. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and for a moment the girl wondered if she could be heard.

I am the spirit of this place. They call me Winter’s Peak, the voice responded. Though the voice did not have a face, there was a smile present in its tone.

“You’re magic,” Abigail said with wonder. Her eyes gazed into the deep blue waters of the frozen Ever Pond as she spoke aloud, her lips curled into a curious smile.

I created you. Your soul was born in this very place.

Abigail didn’t respond for a moment. All her life she had known she was meant for something greater and far more magical than Earth, and the cost had been more than a child should ever give.

Guilt plagues you, my child.

The gentle words struck like a fiery lightning bolt. Abigail hung her head low, placing her forehead against her knees. Each inhale reminded her of how heavy her heart felt despite her hollow chest, weighed down by grief.

Come forth, Abigail.

The young girl slowly raised her head to look at the ice that glistened over the blue water. Lowering her knees, she weakly crawled to the edge of the Ever Pond. A lifetime spent being too strong for her own good had finally taken its toll on her spirit. Sitting on her knees beside the pond, Abigail wiped away the dusting of snow to look down at her reflection in the ice that looked right back up at her with glazed over eyes. She knew that everything in her life had led to this.

Close your eyes, my child.

With a deep breath, Abigail let her tired eyes close once again. This time, she knew she would not sleep.

Fall into the water. You will not be harmed.

She felt a tug from somewhere inside her heart, pulling her towards the cold water that rippled underneath the ice. Opening her mouth to ask questions, only a shaky breath escaped her lips. The young girl didn’t know what was about to happen and it scared her.

Trust me, my young one. Fall into the water, the voice urged.

Not knowing what was going to come, Abigail took one last breath and gave into the tugging in her heart. It was or never. She let her body plunge head first into the Ever Pond, the frozen barrier of ice shattering like glass.

No struggling came from the child as she submerged into the pond. Her limbs gently extended, allowing her to float in the deep blue water like a starfish. Her eyes rested peacefully shut as she found she was somehow able to breath. The iciness didn’t freeze her skin, but rather offered a familiar healing. The cold water seemed to ease the burning wounds Abigail had gained in this lifetime, welcoming her to a place of comfort.

All the feelings she had while on Earth — all those little nudges in thoughts that she belonged to another world, that she was a magical being in a non-magical place were proven true as the child floated in the depths of the Ever Pond like the ethereal being she was always meant to be, simply existing peacefully in a meditative state.

You are not at fault for your parent’s deaths, my child.

Seven years of guilt and grief stored deep in Abigail’s heart behind walls of iron began to pour out — the iron had finally been punctured by the words of Winter’s Peak.

There was nothing you could have done to stop their fate. Death has its time. You are not to blame. You were a victim of circumstances no one should bear. You’ve been right all along, my child.

Hot tears storing the unbearable emotions of her young childhood poured out of her eyes, releasing like a wild animal and escaping neatly in the cold water around her. Still, she was able to breath.

There are things I cannot tell you, young one. Pain will always be revealed in the end, and answers will come into light. There is one answer you must hear. You are not responsible for things beyond your control.

Abigail allowed the grief to drain from her body, as she cried within the Ever Pond. Her heavy, burning tears were being replaced with icy water that eased the painful fire in her heart. She could hear the gentle whispers of the blue water as it cradled her again, in the way it had to her soul before she was born.

Nothing will ever make it okay again. You cannot go back in time to change fate, but you can heal in the present. They would want you to heal, little one.

Abigail’s body floated still in the Ever Pond, cleansing the guilt away. It faded from her body like a thick, bubbling mud that washed away into the pure clean water. The broken parts of her she had carried for too long were being put back together, stronger and laced with the most powerful magic of the Universe. Her chest was filled with hope as her heart shook away the last of the painful weight. At that moment, she was whole again.

You are not bound to anyone’s prophecy, my child. Not even my own. You must remember this.

The young girl could feel magic coursing through her body, like bright silver lights that sparked her soul to life. A strange tingling made itself present around her neck.

There is a choice that needs to be made. Awaken now.

Opening her eyes and waking from her meditative state, Abigail quickly swam to the surface of the Ever Pond. She breached the top, taking a huge breath as the blue waters splashed gently around her. Hoisting her shivering body out of the water, another white cloud released from her lips upon her exhale. Crawling onto the snowy grass, the girl rested on her side under the willow tree and blinked as cold droplets fell from her eyelashes. Her entire being was soaked in icy water, her hair and cloak damp as could be. She breathed deeply into her stomach, feeling a sense of renewal in her soul.

You must be wise.

Abigail, finding a new source of strength, slowly stood up as more droplets of water fell onto the ground below. Remembering the tingling feeling around her neck, she reached up to find she was now wearing a necklace that had not been there before. The delicate chain was a glimmering silver, and lightweight as a feather. Dangling from the necklace was a beautiful silver gemstone suspended by spiraling silver wires. The girl curiously examined the stone, holding it gently in her palm as she felt a jolt of energy coursing through her fingertips.

With one last look at the Ever Pond, the child bowed her head. Abigail was ready to make her choice.

“Thank you,” she whispered.