Travelling the world taught Julius more than human life ever did. Years of pain stuck with him, but there were so many years ahead of him now.
He didn't care for looking back on his memories, but it happened all the time. It happened when he travelled off his island and looked at the people working in fields, free now but still needing work. It happened when he took off his shirt and traced his fingers over the circular indents in his chest, or when he stretched too hard and the scars on his back ached and itched. It happened, especially, when he travelled away and looked over other countries, where the practice was still going strong. There was no ignoring what put him here, but in all fairness, he was constantly amazed that he was even here now. He still didn't know why he became a spirit, let alone the kind he was. He could have been a lingering ghost, trapped in his last moments and roaming the village forever, but somehow, he'd been made a denizen of the Summer season.
When he learned how to fly, he almost left for good. He flew nearly everywhere, making friends with the Southern Wind who carried him across the world in minutes. There was too much that he'd never seen. There were people and cultures he never could have imagined. Decades later, he still had much to learn. As he gained more skill in delivering the Summer, he began to meet more spirits. There were animals, rivers, and even forests to meet on Earth. He heard tales of creatures that came from the sky and even further, but he had never met them. He'd never even met the other Seasonal spirits.
One day, he stood upon a mountain overlooking a North American city.
He'd been distracted, gazing down at the summer foliage. When he finally noticed the boy, he thought he was a human at first, and so on instinct he tensed. Humans couldn't see him normally, but the boy stared straight at him. His appearance caught him off guard, but he was skinny and pale and dressed in shepherd clothes. He doubted this boy would have been any threat, even if they had both been human.
"You feel like the Summer."
Julius understood some English, but he hadn't retained pronunciations well. He knew French and he knew Seselwa, and he knew that both French and Creole were spoken in America. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. For now, he focused intensely on the boy's features. Such pale skin and stark white hair, ice blue eyes and frost on his shoulders.
"You feel like the winter. Are you the Winter spirit?"
There was confusion on the boy's face. So he did not understand… Julius thought for a moment, and repeated himself slowly.
"Are you winter?"
Confusion again. Julius sighed. Perhaps body language would do better.
"Winter! Cold…uh, cold, cold!"
"Col', yes, col'…cold, winter."
"You are Cold…sorry, I don't speak English well. I…am Hot. The heat."
It took many gestures just to introduce himself. The boy seemed excited to learn, and his eyes lit up when Julius managed to show that he was the spirit of Summer. He began to pepper English into his speech, trying to pronounce them as the Winter boy did. As they talked, something occurred to Julius, and he frowned.
"Es no winter…pourquoi…you…?"
What was he doing out and about? In this country, it was Summer. Julius expected a simple answer, and so he was shocked to see the boy's face fall as he began to inch away. Oh, he didn't want to upset him. How young he seemed, how unsure. He hadn't meant to imply that he should leave. Searching frantically around the area, Julius looked for something, anything to lift his spirits. His eyes fell on the shimmering cave in the side of the mountain.
"Your winter is pretty-!"
Again with the confusion. Julius said it again, before noticing the intricate frost patterns turning gray and dripping to the soil below. Oops. The boy pouted at him for this, but he seemed to be in a better mood. Julius rubbed his head sheepishly.
The boy's name was Jack Frost. Fitting.
"Nice to meet you, Jack Frost. My name is Julius de St. Ange."
It was the name he'd been assigned at birth. It was a French name, a so-called "proper" name. It never left him, nor could he find it in himself to leave it, even with all that it came with. He didn't know any other name to call himself.
"Uh, plezir, Julius de St. Ange."
Well, listen to that! Julius smiled. He felt the Wind brush past his ear. Was it time to leave already? He looked to Jack again. He was certain their paths would cross more now that they had met, but he wondered how long that would take.
"You sleep in the summer. Here's summer for you."
Julius prepared to leave, only to stop when he saw Jack falter. He tried to explain his island home, and came to a new realization.
"You never leaving?"
So Jack had never left his home country. Julius didn't know how long Jack had been a spirit, but after just the couple decades he'd been overseeing Summer, Julius had nearly forgotten what it felt like to see the same place every day.
"You leave en winter! You sure, you leaving."
Leave in winter! Once you're sure, you'll leave.
"You visit, no winter! Leave when you sure."
Visit! Don't bring the winter with you.
Julius listened to the South Wind's stories as he flew past the trees of the mountains. She had danced with the North Wind and touched the clouds like she'd done so many times before. He wondered if Jack would like flying this far, too.
This story takes place around the mid-1800s, two decades after slavery was abolished in Seychelles. I'd like to read your comments about what you may have gleaned from that. I left some heavy hints, so I hope to see your responses!