"Keep weaving, sisters." The woman rasped, spilling wet sand onto the roots of the great tree.
"What once could have been will never be," a girl chanted, her chains rattling as she tried to move. "You who could have been debt…"
"Skuld," another gasped out, tugging at the metal wrapped around her ankle.
"A debt must be paid." They all said in unison. "Eternal life is not yours to keep."
The city loomed in front of her as she walked with two suitcases in her hand. Skyscrapers jumped out of the ground casting long shadows on the streets below; so many cities had fallen in her lifetime. Mankind's long winded battle for survival, her hazel eyes had seen it all.
She looked briefly upon the city squinting as the sun peered from behind one of the tall buildings; thinking about how long this civilization would last. It was so young compared to the giants of the past. It seemed right to move here after living throughout most of Europe and the Middle East; she had lived in a small home in Iraq before coming to New York City overlooking the river. Now she had a small apartment overlooking the Hudson. Her shoes clicked against the concrete stairs as she walked to her new home.
The world was getting quieter and maybe for a few years she could live here. She wondered how long she would have to take a breath; she smiled to herself as the word 'decade" ran through her mind and she laughed softly. After wandering the world for as long as she had she knew that would never be the case. It could never be quiet for that long.
Throughout her life she had been empires rise and fall within a blink of an eye. Heavy thoughts…
She dropped her bags onto the floor, books spilling out of them. Traveling was always like this; exhausting and always reminding her of how many times she had done this before. The apartment was a bleak with a large bookcase that had already been consumed by books, a canopy bed draped with old sheer fabrics that had small faded flowers climbing upward, and more books scattered the floor. Tapestries crowded the walls being illuminated by small lamps. She let her body plop down onto the bed and kicked her boots off. A heavy sigh echoed throughout the room. She could use a nap after the twenty hours she had spent on the plane and that's not even including the traveling to a Turkish Airport.
The past few years had been some of the most bloody she had seen; she never rested. There was always someone who needed help, one of the last people she had saved was a woman who had gone into labor prematurely during a drone strike. The name, Stark, hung over their heads as the missiles flew. None of the emotions she had felt were new; if anything she should have been used to it by now. During every conflict she had witnessed she had helped people. This one though had been much more draining than the last; maybe it had been because she hadn't been able to rest.
The Russian Revolution, World War I, The Russian Civil War, World War II, Vietnam; and that wasn't even including the smaller wars that had only lasted a year or two in between. She couldn't help but remember all of the faces of the people she had saved. Little girls and boys who had been playing in the streets only to be greeted by open fire from both sides of conflict. It was easier before guns had been invented, people were still distinguishable so she could at least return them home to their families and the casualties weren't so steep. So much blood had been spilled in the past one hundred years alone she wondered why the soil hadn't turned crimson yet.
It seemed selfish now. She knew she needed rest; she was so worn down. She let her eyes shut.
The next day, she sat down at a small park. It was a cool summer morning. Fall was coming soon the wind had that crispness to it and a few of the leaves had begun to change color. It had only been in the city for a few hours, not even a full day, and she was already beginning to feel at peace. She placed her leg on the bench and extended her arms to the tip of her toes then repeated with the other leg before hopping off the bench and starting off her day with a light jog. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail so her long curly red hair couldn't get in her face; it still looked like a plume of copper around her as she moved. Gradually, she ran her laps going a little bit faster each time so she wouldn't draw attention. She noticed a man running along side her with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had an incredibly masculine fit build and was a little more than half a foot taller than her.
"You're fast," he said, panting in between the words.
"You've got to be nowadays," she replied without any sign of fatigue. Smiling lightly at him she picked up her speed slightly. She knew she was pushing it soon she would draw attention.
"That's not fair," he panted as he dropped onto the side of the path. He stared at her briefly and remembered someone from his days with Bucky. His friend had met a girl in England who had been a medic. He had seen a blurry picture of the two in their barracks.
A women who had fair skin and freckles that dotted her face and chest. They could've been twins. The only difference was that the woman who was running back towards him had long hair that extended down to the middle of her back even with it pulled up and the girl from his memories had her hair in a short bob. She crouched down and gave him a water bottle than had been attached to her waist.
"Looks like you need this more than me," she said with a laugh. She dropped down next to him and laid down in the grass, faking most of her fatigue with long breathes.
"Where did you learn to run like that? It's very impressive," he asked taking a gulp of the water and handing it back to her.
"I've been running since I was young. I don't think it's very impressive, honestly." She shrugged, taking a sip. She took a better look at him and recognized him instantly; he was so young but that time had passed half a century ago. He should be an old man if not dead. He watched her as her hazel eyes widened and she shot up with ragged breaths. She acted as though she had seen the ghost of Christmas' Past
"Steven…." He jumped up at him name and looked around seeing if anyone was around them. He was grateful that the park was still empty.
"How do you know my name?"
"How are you alive?" She spoke now in such a low voice he had to focus to hear her. She reached out to him with wide eyes that showed hesitation and fear; as if he was going to disappear into a puff of smoke. "It's been over seventy years…"
Her hand laid on his chest and she could feel his heartbeat, he grabbed her hand and kept it there. Instinctively, she tried to jump back only for his other hand to reach around and hold her by the small of her back before she fell down.
"Steve, you shouldn't be here. How are you still alive?" She spoke between panicked breaths as she tried to move away from him.
"It's okay. I'll explain it to you but you need to calm down. I need your name."
"No- No! I'm leaving," she said putting her hand on his shoulder and trying to pull away. She looked like a trapped animal.
"I won't hurt you, I swear, Ma'am. Just please calm down," he didn't have time to react as both her feet landed on his chest and she flipped away from him, making him fall onto the concrete as he saw her run off into the distance.
He ran as fast as he could but he soon realized after a few blocks that she had completely disappeared from sight.
She sighed as he went away, watching him from behind a staircase. Slowly she made her way back to her apartment; letting old memories take her back. She could remember almost everything that had ever happened in her lifetime. All the names that echoed in mind.
One stayed in her mind while the others faded into the background of her memory.