"No one expects to lose their humanity"
Winter thought being taken from her home as a child and turned into an immortal keeper of the seasons was unsettling enough, but falling for Summer? Well, that was something else entirely.
Love never is. Winter did not expect—no, didn't even want it to be easy. Because when love is easy, as it comes quietly, a subdued flame of the heart, it leaves quietly. Snuffed out with only a brush of the wind or the letting go of a breath that had been held for far too long. Falling in love with Summer, however, was as simple as the filling of a lung or the pulse of a heart—certain, but cruel. For once Winter knew what it was to live without her heart, a heart that beat for Summer only, she knew that loving her, the enduring, lonely wanting that follows a sudden and sweet fall was never going to be easy—it was going to be excruciating. And it was. Winter never really did like being right about these things.
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Winter lived in a colorless world. Darkness followed her like a shadow and a bitter cold always clung to her rattling spine. That is until Summer seeped into her bones, warming her heart that burned for the color red. She didn't even know she needed it. Winter had known red before of course, but it had been the sticky color that pours from cracked bodies, dark and deadly. She had felt it stain her, spread across her frozen palms of white.
But Summer, she pulled the death from red and laid it out fair and young before Winter's eyes. She carved color into Winter's frigid world with only the flash of a smile that spread crimson lips and the flutter of a dress that always left a glittering trail of bright red behind her as she moved.
Winter sat silently, waiting for the spark of color to ignite her once more, despite the way it burned. She was not designed to withstand the fire inside her, the love that poisoned her nature. She watched the sunrise sullenly over her corner of the Highgrove, marking the start of her reign over the earth.
Winter could feel the swell of Energy within her, climbing her veins and humming in her fingertips. Some of the Stewards reveled in the feeling, addicted to its seductive undercurrent that tasted of immortality. Winter remembered the first time she saw Summer, only then did she understand that feeling, and it wasn't from the Energy inside her.
It was her first Congress with the Stewards, new to her reign as Keeper of the Wintertide. Summer as well was in her first year, her dark eyes bright and wide with curiosity. She had said it felt like coming up for air, kind and soft in her blood, but Winter always felt slightly unnerved in her coming to power. And cold. She was always cold.
Shivering, Winter tucked her rose-tinged cheeks and nose into the fur lining of her jacket that crowned her neck with warmth. A sable cloak rested heavily on her shoulders and brushed the snow-covered ground as she stood, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to draw sensation to her numbed fingers. She felt on edge and her skin prickled as she felt her Energy rush through her, sloshing and turning about.
She scanned the thick forest that surrounded her, rather severe-looking trees with raw, twisted branches obscured her view. But she could not mistake the flash of red that peeked through the tangle of trunks and stood stark against the white that marked the ground around them.
Summer emerged from the brooding thicket of trees and into the open clearing. Winter's heart fluttered wildly and a soft smile tugged at her lips. A slender fox peered up at her, its thick lashes rested on heavy-lidded, all-too-familiar dark eyes. Flecks of gold and sparks of white swam in their weary depths, and as it wobbled on unsettled legs, its vibrant coat shook the snow that clung to its bristled fur. The fox, with what seemed to be a drowsy resistance, curled itself up at Winter's feet, tucking its glossy, black nose into the brush of its white-tipped tail.
"Summer," Winter exhaled, feeling the pull of her Energy sweeping through her chest and pulsing in her hands. She let it course through her unbridled, assured now with Summer resting safely in the cradle of snow, and drew the first snowflakes from the sky.
Winter remembered her first snowflake. Mother's voice, cold and low in the silence of the Highgrove, guided her through her first Rise. The Stewards at the annual Congress had spoken of their first Rise tenderly. Summer had said it just felt right, like she was meant for it.
Winter just felt cold and pissed off. The first one fell awkwardly from a sedated and listless sky, settling on her palms. It was drained and colorless, much like Winter herself. The Energy seemed to have pulled the blood from her veins and wrenched the life from her skin, once flushed with a youthful warmth—a certain humanity, or she had thought. No one ever expects to lose their humanity.
The snowflake was bent and muddled, pieces of its branches seemed to have been lost in its descent. She curled her fist around it, hoping it would melt, but her frigid hands only coaxed it into an indistinguishable smudge of white.
Mother laughed coldly, her sharp features jutted out pointedly and her green eyes flashed with a keen indifference.
"It doesn't end here, Winter, you'll know many more snowflakes in your reign. May it be a long one, God willing." With that she watched Mother turn curtly on a fur-lined heel and disappear into the thick line of blackened forest. Her towering figure retreated promptly into the darkness, but Winter could still see the glint of her brazen crown of gold long after she had faded into the distance.
Winter brushed the unsettling memory from her mind and concentrated her strength on the attentive creation of the snow that had just begun to flutter from a slate and cloud-laden sky. She felt the delicate flakes gather in the wild tangle of her hair and catch in her fair lashes, allowing herself a fleeting appreciation of what she was able to bring forth into a dependent world.
Tapping into the reserves of Energy that whirled excitedly under the surface of hands that trembled slightly, Winter readily crafted a steady snowfall, painting the landscape in white. Snow always clung tenaciously to her corner of the Highgrove, but now she coated it fresh layers of wintry and ice, marking the dawn of her new reign.
Winter knew she should be riding some sort of high, the kind that the other Stewards seemed strung out on, but she could only feel the promise of death peering over her shoulder, a wicked grin curling at his lips.
And Summer, Summer would be here while she washed the earth with white and cold and death. Safe, at least. Winter smiled, just for a moment, a longing tugging at her heart, before she made her way back through the forest, to her door, to her reign.
Until the next.
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A/N: First impressions? First of all, thank you for taking the time to read, and if you could leave a comment and vote if you enjoyed this first chapter I would really appreciate it !!
