Since her birth, the cold never really bothered the girl, as she grew through the years. It was a bit eerie to the villagers, but she held her own and helped when she could. She was actually quite useful. During the warmer months, she appeared to be another villager. When it came to the colder times, she was always the first to be called on for assistance. She could tolerate quite a bit of the frigid weather, but only by so much. She may not mentally feel the chill, but her body could easily give out if it was too much. When she started to shiver, it was a clear sign that she would need the warmth of the fire, but it was only to warm her body. She could scarcely remember a winter where she was the one chosen to fetch the livestock, or chop the wood when the weather was at its coldest.

"Jenna! The fire needs kindling!" her mother called out from the tiny kitchen.

"Okay! I'll feed the sheep, too!" she replied from her small bedroom along the eastern main wall. The small cabin was extended out just enough to make space for her. Her father had gone missing three years after she was born. He went out to hunt in the snow and never returned. A search party was done, but nothing was found. It was actually common now for villagers to go missing during a hunting outing in winter. As much as she grieved with her mother, they had to continue to survive. It was only after he disappeared that Jenna was forced to do all the outside chores.

As she made her way outside, she muttered under her breath, "Oh, Father, where are you? Ever since that night, things have been much harder since you left. I fear the worst. I always have. At least you were able to teach me what you knew. Such as how to prepare kindling, and how to keep it ready. Good thing I kept the kindling in bulk, as you always advised me to do. It would have been nice to have learned how to hunt. Livestock do take up the slack, but it gets boring. But…oh well. As it is, the grain should be dry enough, too."

As she went to where the firewood was kept dry under various skins, she looked over the livestock. The sheep were cared for under the thatch covers and quite warm. They had to resort to livestock when their father vanished. He was an avid hunter for them before. The animals they had weren't much, but they were able to trade their fleece for supplies. An animal or two would be butchered for food, but the trade helped to keep that for the hardest of winters. As she fed the sheep, the cold clearly didn't bother her at all, and she wasn't surprised to find herself sitting down on a stump just inside their pen. She got lost in thought as she sat there, and she started to reminisce about her life. As if it ever helped her, but it always passed the time.

The main thing she recalled was what the neighboring villagers referred to her as. A Child of Winter. Whatever that meant. She didn't know why she was called that when her skin was a warm, autumn gold. Even her hair was a soft, light brown. But, her eyes were clearly different than the others. They were the color of a clear, morning mist, as though the pigment was gone from them. There was just enough there to show it was a light blue. No one else had eyes like hers. Even the midwife that helped deliver her had never seen eyes like hers. That midwife never said a thing until the questions started up. When she talked about the odd chill that happened in the cabin, the rumors of me being cursed started to filter. At first, I was called out for being a witch. There was no proof, but, after the good deeds I did for the village, that speculation was shot down rather quickly.

I'm also the only one that could walk out in a blizzard and return with a half-frozen pet that was lost in the storm. I'm even able to help find other villagers, if they were lost, too. I just...always seem to know where to look. One of the boys I found had his foot caught in a log! If it wasn't for me, he would have easily perished by either the storms, or the patrolling wolf pack. She wished she could have tried to find her father, but she was far too young to search on her own.

One of the other village boys had actually dared her to go out all night in the cold to see if she could. That was a couple years back, when she was fourteen, and she sighed over it. I almost died that night. The cold was so severe! If I ran back, I would have been safe, and Mother wouldn't have been so frantic. I honestly wouldn't have cared to have been called names after that. But, then again, I wouldn't have met…him…

Oh, he was so handsome! I couldn't really tell if he was real at first. I was fighting so hard to stay awake at the time. What I did find odd was that he was wearing only a shirt and loose pants. He was even barefoot and walking in snow like nothing! It was almost as though he couldn't feel the cold like me. It puzzled her. But, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here today. She was amazed when he reached below his feet to pull a fur coat out from the snow. It was as though it was simply hidden there the whole time! It completely amazed her. But, it was the conversation he had with me that was alarming. It was almost as though he was pleased to see me. It was like he knew me and had watched me for a very long time. Almost as if he secretly protected me...

She thought about the conversation he had with her. He had asked if I was cold. I said I wasn't. It was a clear truth, anyways. It had actually seemed to surprise him a bit. Most would say it to try and impress him, but she didn't know that. He saw that she was shaking, but she simply didn't feel the cold. She could tell that he was indecisive over various things. He had taken a staff off his back to lean on, as he watched me, and even the staff seemed odd. It looked like it was covered in ice. I would have almost thought that it was made of ice, but there was just a slight hint of wood under the thick layer. Just by being near the staff, it made my body shiver even more, but I didn't feel it. She couldn't explain it. Even as he wrapped the heavy fur around my body and left, I just...I have this feeling that I'm going to see him again. She actually wanted to see him again. He was as different as I am, and I feel...tied to him, somehow. Why was that?

As she tried to remember more of the meeting, she suddenly glanced up at a looming shadow. It was him. A shock of light blue hair that was spiked up an inch in height was the first thing noticed. Then it was the incredibly pale, blue skin. The thin, brown tunic and loose brown pants barely hid the strong, lithe physique he had. He was thin, but it was more like an athletic build, if that. She regarded him a touch speechlessly, as he knelt down to study her.

Her mind was barely functioning at the time he last saw her. She didn't quite remember what he looked like, only that he was very handsome. And he still was. It actually took her breath away for a moment, and she found herself shivering. How long was I outside for? Was I lost in thought for so long?! His staff was actually strapped to his back now, and out of the way. At her astonished look, he chuckled and asked, "Hmm. You're shivering. Are you cold?"

"No," she frowned. "I am not cold. Who are you?"

"Ah. Able to think again?" he smiled. He made a mound of snow into the form of a chair and sat in it. "Before I tell you, I need to ask you some questions. I tried to ask you them before, but your mind wasn't fully there. So, I would like to ask them again."

"Okay," she nodded. His voice was very pleasing to listen to. She really liked it.

"How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen winters. Two have passed since we met, I think."

"I see. What season were you born in?"

"Winter, actually. In the last month of the year. There was a large winter storm when I was born, and I was told that I was frozen when I was born. The villagers call me a Child of Winter. I honestly don't feel cold, but my body can feel cold without me knowing. So, it's the truth when I say I don't feel cold."

"All your life this has happened?"

"Yes."

"Very interesting," he mused. He knew all of this, of course. He was just making conversation. "So, you don't feel cold, mentally, but your body does physically. Hmm. Interesting, indeed…"

She watched him get up and walk around as though trying to decide on something. He glanced over, as he heard someone leaving the house, and he frowned. It was her mother looking for her. Likely trying to find out what was taking so long. Taking his staff off his back, he blew on the edge of it to cause a flurry of snow in that direction. It caused the intruder to head back in quickly. When the door slammed shut, he was at the door within seconds to tap on the handle. He froze it from the inside out. Now the door wouldn't budge until it thawed. Grinning to himself, he was back at Jenna's spot with his staff on his back and sitting back down as though he never moved from it.

"Who are you?!" she gasped.

"In a moment I'll get to that," he said with a touch of mischief in his ice blue eyes. They almost reminded her of the frozen blue frost on a pond before it turned to ice. "I want to give you something."

"Why should I accept something from someone that won't tell me a name?" she frowned.

"So true!" he giggled playfully. "I suppose you're right. Tell me. Have you ever heard of something that's referred to as, oh…a sprite of winter?"

"A sprite? A mischief making pixie?" she asked with a harder frown. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know of one specifically associated with winter itself? Like…oh…the embodiment of frost or snow? The one that makes the rime on your shoes? Or the frost on your windows?"

"Well, the only name that comes to mind would be Father Winter…" she thought. Then she looked at his wide grin.

"I'm not actually a father. So, you can call me Jack. Okay?" he winked. She was in shock. Now it all fit into place for her.

"Don't you have…other places to be?" she asked.

"Not really. Winter tends to itself. I can actually appear in other seasons. I like to confuse the simple folk with that unusually cold breeze from time to time. Of course, winter is the most fun! Winter is when I can reign as a form of supremacy. However, when it comes to weather, itself, I simply help it along. But…well…you impress me. There's something about you that I like. I usually don't bother with others. No need to, really. As for you, I want to get to know you more. You're…special to me. I think. Maybe. So, I'll have to hang out a while longer. I'm sure you won't mind. Right?"

"But…why?" she frowned.

"I'm collecting a debt."

"What debt?!"

"For saving your life."

"But I didn't ask you to!"

"No, you didn't. But, you accepted it all the same. You still have the fur, don't you?"

"I…" she frowned and sulked. It was on her bed, and she slept with it practically every night. He knew this. "What debt do you need?"

"Your talent has not yet matured. In time, your daughters will inherit it. Only one will surpass you. That is the one I will follow around in life," he muttered to her as he leaned in close. "One of your daughters is destined to be mine. Until then, I will ensure your survival. I will ensure the chosen daughter's survival. I will follow that line of girls through the ages until both mind and body are able to resist the cold. Only then will I claim the final one as my bride."

"A bride?" she blinked.

"Yes."

"And, if there are no daughters born from me?"

"Then one of your sons will carry it, and I will follow him until he produces a daughter."

"How will you ensure my survival? How will you follow me? Why can't you simply make me your bride?" she found herself spewing out the questions. Then she blushed at what she asked and looked away. At the last question asked, he carefully moved to touch the top of her hand. Now she gasped. She felt the chill of his touch. Her flesh was chilled completely blue, and she even saw the slight imprint of his fingers there. If it was any longer, she would have lost her hand.

"That is why I cannot make you my bride now," he said with a soft, sad smile. "As much as I want to, your talent is not perfect. You are not ready for me. I would kill you just by trying to hug you with bare flesh. It must get stronger with each generation of yours. So, in turn, I will ensure that you have a proper husband to marry. I will take care of your funding needs, and I make sure you never go into poverty. I will protect the daughter you birth that will inherit your ability. I will handle everything."

"So…" she paused. "You would have made me your bride?!"

"Yes," he nodded. "But, as I have just shown you, my very touch would harm you."

"You actually…find me attractive…?"

"Very. I'd try to hide it, but…why bother?" he said with a small grin. "So, yes. I am attracted to you. I always was, I think. Anyways, you know now why I can't make you my bride."

"I do have a request of you."

"Oh? What is that?"

"When I'm on my deathbed…I would like to see you before I die," she said softly.

"I can arrange that," he nodded lightly.

"And…if I'm suffering…"

"Worry not. I won't let you suffer for long," he said gently. She gave a small nod at this. It was just the fact of knowing that she would be tended to, if it came to it. She felt some relief in it. Then she thought, and he looked at her curiously.

"How will you track down my daughters?" she asked. She was actually trying to thaw her skin out by unconsciously rubbing it warm. It would be permanently marked with numbness after it healed.

"With this token," he said, as he pulled out a perfectly formed ice sphere that fit neatly in the center of his palm. It was chiseled with elaborate engravings and looked quite heavy. At the very top of it was a runic symbol for ice. "It's an ice diamond. One of the only few ever made. Only I can make them. Quite rare, this way. This one, however, is priceless. It's very special and can never be sold or given away. You could say that, oh, it's a bit of a part of me. In that sense. You can give this to your destined daughter to hold onto when she is ready to leave your side."

"All right. I understand. But, I…do have a question now. An important one, you see. If you can answer it, I'd be grateful," she said, as she looked troubled.

"Go ahead. If I can answer, I will."

"My father. Do you…know what happened to him?"

"I do," he nodded. "I saw everything. You have my deepest apologies. I tried to save him."

"So…he's gone?" she asked with a touch of despair.

"He is. Hunting in winter is always risky. Everyone knows that. Even wolves…need to eat…"

She gasped, and he actually found himself pulling another fur out from the ground to wrap around her to comfort her. It was the only safe way to be close to her. He was surprised at himself for going so far. It was then that he realized that, as long as a heavy fur was between them, he could touch her safely. But, he wouldn't want to risk it. He watched her carefully, as she kept control of her emotions. The time was past for shedding tears, but it was just the shock of knowing. He knew this. When the shock passed, he pulled a bone flute out from the snow next. It was the same one that her father always played on when he was at home and content. Now the tears fell, as she could only nod.

"Thank you," she whispered, and she took the flute. "I'll give it to my Mother."

"Of course," he nodded. "I'll be watching over you. Oh. Here. Before I forget."

She blinked at two pouches given to her. One held a small collection of ice diamonds that would be easy to sell. The other was empty to hold his token. He told her softly to not touch the diamonds unless it was necessary. Even she understood this. Greed can take on a deadly turn. What he didn't tell her was that the smaller diamonds could be tracked and destroyed if used for unreasonable terms. He could simply remove them and change them back into water. When he left, she got up and hugged the small flute to her. The memories she had of her father were very scarce, but she treasured them with everything she had. She hid the pouches in her tunic. She'd work on stitching inner pockets later. She had to do so, anyways, for coin when she traded supplies. Moving to the door of the cabin, she saw what Jack did to keep it closed. She actually found herself giggling a bit.

"I can't open the door!" her mother shouted.

"It's frozen! Get a coal from the hearth!" she shouted back. She heard her mother swear, and she shook her head. It took some time, but the door was thawed enough to budge it open. Only when she was safely inside did she reveal the flute.

"This flute!" her mother said with an aching tone in her voice.

"I found it outside. It's what took so long," Jenna said with her own trembling voice, and they hugged. "I counted the sheep. They are all there. I heard the wind whistling oddly, and I found the flute on the ground near them."

"I wish I knew what happened to your father," her mother admitted.

"Sometimes…it's best not to know," Jenna said softly. At this, her mother could only nod. Her mother was starting to get older, as it was. She didn't want to burden her with how he died.