The Snow Prince

Chapter 8: Just a Dream

Alex expected the night to be cold- he expected to be slowly frozen to death in his sleep- but something about Christian's company kept him warm throughout the night. The comfort of the warm body next to him fought the snow that constantly fell. It felt like for the first time in his life, Alex didn't feel that chill in his bones or that dread of the cold. Instead, it was like fire licking his fingertips, it was like he had just eaten a warm meal. 

The fire crackled and the soft breathing of Christian soon sent him to sleep. It was peaceful. The kind of sleep that embraces you and holds you. The kind of sleep where time is suspended, it seems like you blink, going to sleep in one moment and waking up the next. But there was a point during the night, that Alex awoke.

Hazy from sleep and with heavy eyes, Alex noticed that Christian was no longer beside him. He looked around sluggishly, still weighed down by slumber. It made his limbs heavy and his mind slow. 

Alex spotted him in the distance, a little ways from the remnants of their campfire, but he was facing away from Alex; doing something with his hands. The dark and the fog of sleep made it difficult for Alex to see what Christian was doing. It seemed like he was blowing on his hands and snow was appearing- but that was impossible. The snow seemed to create pictures in the air, like it was telling a story. Or maybe this was a dream. 

Just a dream.

Alex turned back over and closed his eyes, letting himself succumb again. He didn't even wake up when Christian went back and laid next to him again.

Just a dream.

He wouldn't wake up again until the miserable sunlight made its pitiful way through the clouds and trees. Then he would wake up to Christian munching on some bread from his back and offering some to him.

Just a dream.

While chewing, he would think back to his strange dream of Christian and snow and pictures dancing in the air. In the quietness of the morning, he would realise something that meant it had to be a dream.

It wasn't snowing. He could distinctively remember being able to see the forest and Christian with an odd clarity, despite the darkness and dregs of sleep in his eye, because the constant white flurry wasn't blocking his vision.

Alex finished his breakfast and turned to Christian- to tell him about his strange dream, so they could laugh it off together and set off on their way home- when he had a strange revelation. Christian didn't have his hood up. His silver blonde hair was still covered by a hat, little wisps peeking out here and there, but he didn't need a hood up to protect his face anymore.

Because it wasn't snowing.