Those were the words that changed Eira's life. Those were the ones that saved it. Those were the ones that ruined it. It was strange how a few minutes could completely change one's present and future. How only an instant could decide so many years of a life. How it could decide even an entire lifetime. Sometimes change is a gradual thing that you do not notice happening -- and yet, sometimes it happens in just a mere moment. If she had considered what she would be doing as an adult, she would have carried out her longing to be a bookshop owner. It would have been a simple life -- which, even at her young age, she had always wanted immensely. Now, there was no chance of that. Now her life would be driven by the ice that lay within her veins.
The ice. She had powers. She was one of the Permafrosts. It was nigh on impossible for her to believe it. However-- she had no option but to do that very thing. If she stayed in denial, it would surely make things much worse for her. She was surprised at herself -- that she could rationalise at a time like that.
And now, a grave air had settled over the house's inhabitants. Moira tried to put on a smile and was happy for Eira -- but she seemed pained in doing so.
Graham and Owen were still in a state of shock and the Testers were stoic as usual. But, that wasn't what affected Eira. It was Cerin's face. He bore an expression of devastation. A look that showed he knew he would probably never see his only friend and adopted sister again. She hadn't seen him look so doleful in all the years they had known each other.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She wasn't even sure if she'd said it aloud. If she had-- it certainly was too quiet for anyone else to hear.
She was sorry because it was inevitable. She would leave Cerin all alone.
That day, she'd be taken away to the centre where the Frosts trained their bodies and honed their magic. Somewhere she knew nobody. Somewhere where she would be forced to become a different person entirely. Somewhere Cerin could never go to.
At that moment, she could no longer hold back. She hadn't even realised she had been until then. Hot tears began flooding down her cheeks -- and for once, she was so glad of the heat.
"You have fifteen minutes to pack and say your farewells," the Tester who had tested Cerin stated. "Be quick."
Fifteen minutes. She only had fifteen minutes left with everyone. Cerin, Moira, Graham and Owen: the family who took her in when she had nobody left. Had she even told them how grateful she was? Had she ever even thanked them? Had she told them how much she loved them? Was it too late now? She was going to be torn away from them in a matter of minutes, and there was nothing she could do about it. If she didn't, they would all get thrown in cells or even hanged and she would be taken regardless. The world they lived in was cruel -- a fact she had learned on that freezing December night when she'd lost her parents.
She covered her eyes with her hands, trying to hold back her sobs. And then she left.
She ran upstairs to her room to pack her few belongings. It was too hard to look at their faces. Moira's fake smiles. Graham and Owen's shock. Cerin's pain. How did they feel knowing the girl they considered family was going to be ripped away from them? Had they prepared? She knew she should have. She should have known that this could have happened. Should have known she could have been one of the Frost. Perhaps it was because she didn't think of herself as someone who had a chance of being special. Yes. She had always considered herself dreadfully unlucky.
Her room was exactly as she'd left it mere hours earlier. Her book and blanket lay discarded on the rug by the stove. The fire had burned down to its embers. Her bed lay unmade and rumpled and her clothes from the day before were folded on the back of her desk chair.
Would this be the last time she stood in this room? Though it was small, draughty and sparsely furnished -- it was home. She had never thought a house other than the house she'd shared with her parents could become home to her, but she had proved herself wrong. This place was almost as dear to her as her old house had been. Her heart ached tremendously at the thought of leaving it.
She located her biggest satchel from her wardrobe and made about packing her clothes -- a way to distract herself. She didn't have many garments, just four simple tunic dresses in plain colours -- grey, brown and the like, one of which she was wearing -- four pairs of thick woollen stockings, two nightdresses, a knitted shawl and her most prized possession. It was a thick, forest green cloak that she had purchased the previous autumn with saved up money acquired from doing odd jobs for people in her neighbourhood that summer.
She packed all of her clothes, folding them up as small as she could to fit in as little space as possible.
She put the cloak on, and replaced she shoes she was wearing -- soft, brown and heavily worn slip ones-- with her good shoes, which were black lace up ankle boots that she only wore when going on trips or more formal events. She put the other shoes in the bag, and then went around her room to find other, non wearable objects to pack. She enjoyed these tasks. They kept her mind from straying onto everything that had happened and was to happen.
She packed her favourite books -- only five of them, as she knew they would be heavy to carry. She then located the small portrait of her mother and father as newlyweds from under her pillow and delicately put it in the satchel too. It was the only one she had of them, so she treasured it and looked after it with the utmost level of care. She then packed the small jewellery box that always lay on her writing desk. It contained her mother and father's wedding rings and well as a locket her mother had always worn. These objects were far too precious for her to wear -- in case she lost them or damaged them in some way.
After her satchel had been packed, she took it and made her way back downstairs. But lingered in front of the door to the sitting room. When she went in there, she would have to say goodbye. Goodbye to the family who cared for her so much. If she thought too much about it, she would begin to tear up again. Taking a deep intake of breath, she forced herself to open the door.
"You have five minutes to say goodbye," one of the Testers said upon seeing her. "Do not prolong it for any longer time."
Eira gulped and made herself look at everyone. Moira and Graham stood closer together, and she assumed they had been discussing something. Probably her. Moira's cheeks were streaked with tear-tracks. Owen had a hand on Cerin's shoulder. Cerin hadn't moved an inch and still had that terrified, despair filled expression. It hurt Eira to look at him.
"Eira," Moira said, voice as even as she could make it. Eira placed the satchel down and walked gingerly over to her. What if her powers somehow hurt the woman? The newly discovered powers that she knew next to nothing about. She hadn't thought really thought about them-- because she felt as though she was still in a state of shock about it. She had accepted that she needed to leave, but not her abilities. Looking at the still frozen ring of frost on the floor, it was hard to believe she'd made it. But, as she'd told herself earlier, she needed to come to terms with it. She had powers, and they were now a permanent part of her.
"Don't worry," Moira soothed. "You can't hurt me. Your abilities still need amplification for you to use them."
Eira nodded weakly, but gratefully, and walked with more confidence over to Moira. Moira pulled her into an embrace and then Eira couldn't stop the tears from coming.
"I don't want to go." Her voice was muffled by Moira's shawl. "But... if I don't, you'll all be hurt."
"I know, I know," Moira whispered, rubbing Eira's back gently. "It'll be okay. I promise you."
Eira broke from the hug and looked into Moira's kind blue eyes. They glistened with held back tears.
"I'll miss you all so much. I never told you..." Eira faltered, "I never told you. That I... I'm so grateful for what you've done for me. For taking me in. For caring for me. T-- thank you for all you've done."
"You don't need to thank me. A parent will do anything for their child. I will always be here for you, Eira. I consider you my child as much as Cerin and Owen."
"Thank you," Eira whispered hoarsely. "I love you." Knowing Moira thought of her as her daughter made leaving all the more painful.
"I love you too Eira."
Moira pulled Eira in for one more short embrace, and then Eira turned to Graham.
"Graham... thank you as well for what you've done for me. I really don't know how I'd be if you hadn't taken me in."
"You'll always have a home here. Ever since you came here, you've been like my daughter." Graham hugged Eira tightly.
"Owen, you're like my big brother. I never knew what it was like to have siblings before I came here. I'll miss you so much."
They hugged too, and Eira's sobbing worsened. Moira had began to cry silently and Graham looked to be holding back tears. Once they broke apart, Owen said, "Come back, won't you? When the training's finished. We'll all be waiting for you. You'll always be welcome here, no matter what."
"Of course," Eira said, smiling through her tears. She turned to Cerin. She knew this would the most painful goodbye.
Now Cerin was smiling. It was a melancholic smile, but a smile nevertheless. His blue eyes were glistening with tears.
"Please don't go forever," he said quietly. "You have to come back. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."
Eira brought the trembling boy into a hug. "I'll always come back to you. You are the first and only friend I've ever had, and you're like my brother. I'll be back before you know it, just you wait. Six years will pass so fast, and then you'll hear a knock on the door and I'll have come back, and everything will be okay again. Please try and stay strong until then."
"Okay." Cerin's voice was weak, and he was crying even harder than Eira. She could feel her shoulder becoming wet with his tears. "I love you."
"I love you too, Cerin. Please wait for me."
"Always," Cerin said, trying to smile again.
Eira looked at the Testers, who looked impatient. One of them checked his pocket watch.
"We must go now," one of them said firmly.
Eira nodded. She made herself leave Cerin's side and went to pick up her bag. "Goodbye," she said. "I'll see all of you soon. I promise."
As she left with the Testers, she was sure of one thing -- that she would come back here. That she would come back home, to Moira, Graham, Owen and Cerin. To her family.