What? New story? Yes. New story. I know, I haven't updated Bloodless in forever and I suck and I'm sorry. BUT, this idea happened and I couldn't help myself and I'm hoping yall forgive me. :D
Now, there is an actual plot behind this, and it's obviously winter themed (also partly inspired by the movie Rise of Guardians, but only to a certain extent). So, if you're willing to read this prologue of sorts, and tell me what you think or if you'd be at all interested in seeing where this is going, then, aside from being sincerely grateful, I will continue with further chapters. :) If no one's interested, which is probably a real possibility, then this was still fun to write and I'll just get on with my life...
I strongly recommend you listen to "O Come, Emmanuel" by ThePianoGuys while reading this...I listened to it non-stop when I typed this up, so...do it!
Live. Laugh. Love. = Read. Enjoy. Review.
*Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Story is.
Roses in Winter
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The first thing he was sure of was that he had no real memories of his own. What he remembered were only the most treasured moments from the lives of others, particularly mortals. Images of crisp white mornings, gentle twilight snowfalls, and the glowing stillness of winter nights spent beneath a full moon and a clear canopy of stars. Beautiful as they were, none belonged to him. They were only the memories collected across centuries, given to him, but altogether someone else's.
Treading silently through the knee-high layer of snow, he stepped into the forest of thin barren trees, heading deeper in no particular direction; moving, always moving.
A sense of wandering plagued him day and night. In part it may have been his lack of personal memories that caused such restlessness. Not knowing who he was, or where he came from, or why he couldn't remember. Questions without answers, and for years he was a presence without purpose. A century had passed before finding any truth, but with it came little peace.
He saw her then. Coming to the edge of a small white-frosted clearing, he paused, sensing the faint warmth of a mortal heartbeat. Crimson gaze drifting across the open ground, he spotted her just beyond the tree line. She stood unmoving, her quiet breaths billowing in gentle clouds that faded quickly into the frigid night air. Wrapped in moonlight, she had her eyes closed, completely in her own world.
He brought the snow. Wherever he went, cold and ice followed. Leaves abandoned branches, lakes grew thick and solid, and all but a few creatures stowed away in the comfort and warmth of hidden dens. Mortals seemed to both rejoice and curse the changes brought on by his presence. They bundled themselves with thick clothing, built large fires, and some even decorated their homes.
A strange and foreign warmth flickered inside his chest, and in an instant of impulsiveness, he took a step closer. To his surprise as well as hers, the resounding crunch of snow underfoot briefly interrupted the peace. Her head snapped around, a bright emerald gaze searching the trees for someone she couldn't find. He had never allowed any mortal to see or hear him, and yet something in her eyes made him wonder why.
Children laughed joyously, entirely unaware of his presence. His eyes closed, he watched the foreign memory in fascination. The young mortals gathered snow into balls and hurled them at each other, and they lay on their backs, arms and legs spreading to and fro, indenting the soft white blanket beneath them. He observed all in silence, as if he had actually been there, just unseen and unheard.
Immediately the snow began to fall; an involuntary reaction on his part. The girl was momentarily distracted by it, her face lifting to catch the flakes as they drifted down from clouds neither had noticed approach. He felt then that he should leave. As impossible as it was, he was afraid she might see him. So, with one last glance, he memorized what he knew he could never forget. Short pink quills, enchanted emerald eyes, warm steady heartbeat…a memory all his own.
Alone, lost in the memories of everyone else, he wandered year after year, as if directed by some unknown force. He was sometimes angry, sometimes confused, but mostly and always, he was alone; surrounded only by cold winds, deep snow, and hard ice.
His name was Shadow. He was the spirit of Winter. And after that night, he was never alone again…
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