For months he had been taking care of himself. Ever since his mother and father had died in the landslide he had been alone. The rains that spring were harsher than usual. He had heard stories of spirits controlling the seasons. When a spirit was distraught or angry the weather would become more dangerous. The spirit of the spring rains must have been incredibly upset that spring. The valley had not seen anything like that in years. The rain came down in torrents, wiping out everything in its path. Floods caused loss in the entire village below. His family was lucky to live on the mountain. But the harsh rains had caused the earth to become unstable and one day the rocks came loose. The landslide took everything in its path, including his home and mother inside it. His father had managed to get him to safety before going back for his mother. He never returned.
So now he walked the snowy forest alone. Hunting was hard for a boy as young as he. Small rabbits were his main prey. From time to time he would get lucky enough to catch a fox. He would hide in a small cave on the mountainside at night and sit in the light of the fire watching the snow fall outside the warmth of the cave. That day was particularly cold.
He had traveled far from his safe cave to find something to eat. The winds from the mountaintop were harsh and rushed past his ears, which were already turning a dangerous shade of pale blue from the cold. Fearing the cold over his growling stomach, he turned back up the mountain. The wind seemed to push him back down the hill.
Perhaps a spirit didn't want him to return home that night, he thought to himself.
He did not know how long he was walking up the hill. All he did know was that his vision began to blur. Soon the white from the snow seemed to overcome him and he felt the cold overcome his small limbs already.
When he opened his eyes again he saw a tall figure leaning over him, the figure placed a warm hand on his face and he instantly felt alive again. He heard the rustling of its body in the snow. It said something he could not quite hear and then the figure leaned close to his face. His body was suddenly lulled into a warm stupor and he saw nothing once more.
The last thing he remembered hearing was a voice. He heard it as clear as if it was the figure before him, and yet it was not the same voice that he had heard from the figure moments before. He would remember those voices for the rest of his life.
He woke up in his bed. His eyes trailed from the blank ceiling to the wooden desk beside his bed. He sat up and looked to the window as the warm rays of sunshine danced into his room.
It had been years since he had been found on the path leading to the mountain. Hunters had found him unconscious, yet alive. They took him back to the rebuilt village where he was taken in by a woman who had lost her daughter in the floods. Her name was Ul. She also cared for another orphaned boy by the name of Lyon. Both boys grew up as brothers, even though they knew they were not related by blood in any way to one another or Ul. Nevertheless, the three were happy together.
"Grey," a voice called down the hall, "the hunting party will be leaving soon."
Grey snapped out of his silent thoughts and climbed out of bed. He pulled the curtains open to reveal a bright autumn morning. The colorful leaves danced on the winds from the mountain and the squirrels ran about gathering whatever nuts they could find to store for the upcoming winter. Grey pulled on a shirt and pants before grabbing his long coat. He walked down the hallway to the main sitting area of their little cottage. Lyon was also pulling on his coat with a roll in his mouth.
"Bedur eaf guick," he said latching the top button of his coat.
"I know," Grey said with a wave of his hand. On the table there was a plate of two large rolls with honey on top and a glass of milk. Grey grabbed a roll and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. He then helped it along with the glass of milk. The voices from his dream were still on his mind.
"I'll see you at the center of town," Lyon said waving his hand as he walked out the door.
"I'm coming, freak," Grey hissed as he grabbed the last roll and shoved it into his mouth. He grabbed his bag and followed Lyon out the door. The two made their way in silence to the town's square where many of the other men of the village had already started gathering.
"What's bugging you?" Lyon asked suddenly as the two passed the bakery.
"Nothing," Grey said without even batting an eye.
"Well, whatever it is," Lyon said crossing his hands behind his head and staring at the sky, "the spirits sure are in a good mood today. Not a cloud in the sky."
Grey followed Lyon's gaze up to the skies. A flock of birds flew over their heads making their way to the warm south before winter set in. Everything was peaceful. It had been years since Ul died, leaving the two boys alone once more. But Grey had found his peace with that and was willing to live every day in honor of all the people who had contributed to keeping him alive.
Whether he knew who they were or not.