Chapter 1. Nothing
Everything was white with snow. Even the air. The blizzard blinded the woman's sight as she opened her eyes and sat on the snow.
The woman was a strange one. She was dressed in shabby dark-gray clothing, but her hands were adorned with genuine gold and silver jewelry. Her hair was mostly silvery, with just a few black tresses, but her face was quite youthful – a face of a thirty-year-old, maybe, or so. Her large black eyes were looking at the world with shock and confusion.
"What – what happened?" she murmured. Her voice was crackling a bit. "Who am I?"
She shivered – the frost was really getting to her. Then she spotted a small fire in the distance. It wasn't blown off by the wind and snow, strangely, but the fact didn't bother her. She hurried to it – and groaned. Her whole body, especially her heart, was aching.
The woman barely made it to the fire and literally fell near it. Warmth finally spread through her limbs and melted the icicles formed on her hair. But she still felt very bad, considering that she had no idea who she was.
She lay near the fire for hours, clenching her teeth from the terrible pain all over her. The howling wind terrified her, and whenever the sky cleared a bit, the woman saw the green and pink glow of aurora borealis above her, and this glow gave her the shudders – she didn't know why.
After some time, the pain subsided a little. Enough to give the woman energy to think.
"All right," she said aloud. "What do we have? I don't remember who I am. I don't remember how I got here. I don't remember why I am here. I don't even know where is here! I remember absolutely nothing, and I must be suffering from some terrible sickness – as if someone is cutting me into pieces… Also I'm so very hungry and want to drink… The only literally bright side is that I have a fire. Oh, and also a lot of snow which is actually – oh yes, which is water!"
She grabbed several handful of snow and put them into her mouth. The snow was very clean, and the water it made tasted good.
The woman swallowed enough snow to stop her throat feeling dry as rice paper, and resumed thinking aloud:
"Let's have a look at what I look like. I think I must be old – my hair is gray. But my skin has no wrinkles at all. I wear poor clothing but such nice jewels! Oh, my identity's a puzzle indeed."
She deliberately tried to adopt ironic tone to cheer herself up. For the same reason she rose her hands to her face to examine her jewels. Also, she hoped the jewels could wake some memories in her.
"Right hand: a ruby bracelet. A thin silver ring, the rest of the rings are of gold. One amber ring. Another, I think, turquoise one – goodness, what a motley collection. Left hand: a spinel and opal bracelet, a golden ring with a grayish sort of diamond, a ruby ring. Well, it conveys nothing to me – except for the fact that I probably was some terrible vain peacock, with no taste at all," she commented.
Suddenly, her gaze stopped at the grayish-diamond ring. There was nothing about it – except that it was on the ring finger.
"Was I engaged?" the woman asked the snowdrifts and the fire. "Oh, how dreadful it is if I was – my fiancé, if he's alive, must be going mad from worry about me. I hope if he exists, he's alive. It's such a consoling thought that at least someone in this world knows and loves you!"
She was feeling a bit better. She was getting used for the pain – not that it didn't bother her, but she could talk and move. And the thought of engagement gave her an additional reason to leave the nice warm fire and start searching through the snowy arctic fields, looking for herself.
She got up and determinedly marched through the snow. Thankfully, the blizzard had stopped.
As the woman walked on, she desperately tried to grasp at least some memory of her previous life. But it was useless. She stared at the grayish-diamond ring until tears welled in her eyes, hoping the ring would remind her of her fiancé. Still no memory came.
Here and now, she called for help – yet no one answered. The polar fields around her were empty and quiet.
Finally, the pain became unbearable again and the wanderer collapsed on the snow. She lay there, waiting to die of cold. It would anyway be better than the suffering in this white icy desert.
Suddenly, she felt something warm push her shoulder. The woman turned her head and gasped: a pack of wolves was staring at her. The leading wolf was leaning over her.
"Probably choosing where to begin eating…" she guessed. She wanted for the suffering to end, yes, but not in such a horrifying way! Freezing in the snow or fading from hunger is still better than being torn to pieces alive by wild wolves!
The leader of the pack growled something. The wolves slowly approached the helpless woman. She couldn't even cry for help – her throat was so sore her voice came in a whisper.
The pack surrounded her, their yellow eyes sparkling.
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