Author's note: This is my first venture into another fandom. Raine Silverlock is from TwoKinds by Tom Fischbach. The story is inspired by page 728 from April 5, 2013, especially the bottom right panel. There's no evidence of Christmas in TwoKinds; it's just a little artistic liberty I allowed myself for a reason that I hope will be obvious. My thanks to Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant and DeltaERB for beta-reading.
"Raine Silverlock!"
The man across the kitchen table had spoken in a stern voice and had his gaze firmly locked on to the young girl. She tried to keep a straight face, but her friend Samson was up to no good as usual. The seven years old boy - the same age as herself - had snuck from behind and used his fingers to make rabbit ears over the man's well-kept brown hair. A wide grin was plastered on Samson's olive skinned face, mischief glowing in his dark eyes set under black bangs.
Raine tried unsuccessfully not to giggle. She had just put a spoonful of hearty soup in her mouth, and would make an absolute mess if she burst out laughing and sprayed it over the tablecloth. That was what Samson was trying to achieve of course. She knew him too well.
There was a familiar twitch in the corner of the man's eyes, before his face cracked up in a smile. "I have soup in my beard again, don't I?" He put his spoon down next to his bowl and wiped his face with a napkin. She really liked his gentle manners, always eager to teach her, whether they were homeschooling or looking after the farm animals. He hardly ever raised his voice and he was never too far from a joke. Samson liked him as well, for sure.
"Can you wash up after lunch, please?" He rose from the table and put his bowl in the kitchen sink.
"Where are you going, Caretaker?" Raine's waist-long silver hair flowed behind her as she jumped up from her chair and followed him out of the kitchen.
"Down to the village. We need supplies for the holidays." He put on his thick overcoat and winter boots before kneeling down and putting a hand on Raine's shoulder, a mild smile on his face. "Now, you be a good girl, so that Santa Clause will leave you gifts."
"Will Mother come for Yuletide?" Raine's yellow eyes widened, her gaze drifting as she recalled memories which were already too old.
"I hope so..." He briefly looked sideways, but Raine was too young to pick up on the body language of an adult not telling the whole truth. "But you know she is very busy. She is the Grand Templar after all and has much to do to keep Mekkan safe."
She had been told countless times how important her mother's work was, keeping humans safe from illness and most of all the feral Keidran. "You be safe too, Caretaker."
"Don't worry, I can look after myself." He sheathed his sword and patted the hilt with a hand. "I have this and my magic."
Instinctively, Raine's hand went to her chest and her fingers grasped the locket she always wore around her neck; the enchanted gift Mother had said would keep her safe from the Keidran.
"Can we look for a Yule tree when you're back?"
"Maybe tomorrow..." The man hoisted a large bag on his back and opened the door, letting a cold gust of wind rush inside. "I will be back before nightfall and then I'll cook us a nice supper." The door closed behind him and the heavy metal mechanism clanked as he locked it from the outside, keeping their cabin and herself safe from whatever dangers were out there.
She rushed over to the nearest window, Samson joined her and the two children stared in amazement at the wintery world outside. The midday sun made the snow glisten and sparkle as Caretaker trudged through the deep drifts. All too soon, he disappeared into the forest. Raine's gaze shifted towards the valley where the village was, an hour's walk away, maybe more through the snow. Sometimes on clear days, it was possible to see the smoke from the chimneys, else the settlement was out of view from the cabin. Her breath fogged up the window, tiny ice crystals spreading across the pane. She wiped them off with her sleeve, but Caretaker was nowhere to be seen anymore. It was lonely without him.
"I want to play," said Samson.
Luckily she had her friend. "I need to wash up first."
As soon as she was done with the dishes, she bounced up the steps to her room. It was plain with bare timber walls and floor, and sparsely furnished: a bed, a dresser, a desk and a simple dollhouse in a corner. Caretaker had spent many hours building it for her. She sat down at her desk and pulled out paper and crayons, while Samson jumped onto her bed. With legs dangling over the side and wiggling his toes - he never wore socks - he watched her work.
"What are you drawing?"
She put the crayons down, admiring her own work. "A boy!"
Samson skipped over to the desk and peered over her shoulder. "Isn't your dollhouse family big enough?"
"The more the merrier!" Something stung in Raine's chest when she looked down at her own drawing. A brother or sister would be nice. She sighed before continuing, "Now, which hair colour should I give him."
"Blue," said Samson with a determined look on his face.
"Really?" She giggled at Samson. His thick dark hair, nearly reaching down to his shoulders, bobbed as he nodded. "You're so silly, but okay then."
She picked up an aqua coloured crayon and set to work. When finished, she painstakingly cut the figure out from the paper and brought it over to the dollhouse. Caretaker had carved some furniture out of wood for her, other pieces had been made from old boxes. She had used fabric offcuts for bed sheets and a tablecloth. A small pine tree branch served as a makeshift yule tree. It was already shedding some dry needles, but she didn't care.
Her make-believe family was very happy about their latest addition. A rag doll given to her from Caretaker was the mother, and the father was her old teddy bear. She had no memory of when Mother had given it to her, but it was her most prized possession, save the locket around her neck. She played for ages, using her imagination and whatever was at hand to dream up yule festivities: yarn for tinsel in the tree, nuts and pine cones for food, and thimbles for cups to drink from. After their joyous meal, the family danced in front of the tree, then the parents handed out presents to their children: colourful buttons and marbles.
Samson wasn't as amused, always wanting adventure. "Look out, there are Keidran attacking the house!"
Three hand drawn figures lay on the floor next to the dollhouse: two scruffy wolves and a tigress with long fangs. Raine picked them up and made howling and growling noises, much to Samson's amusement. Father Teddy used his trusty sword - a dull old kitchen knife - to fight off the wolves, slaying one of them; a quick scribble with a red crayon became a lethal wound. Mother Dolly the Grand Templar used her magic to set the tigress on fire. Raine looked at the figure and thought about going downstairs to throw it in the fireplace, but she couldn't make herself. She had put too much work into it.
She stopped and looked at her imaginary family in the dollhouse. She hoped Mother would come for Yuletide, no, she was sure she would. Maybe also Father? She had a father somewhere, she knew that much, but Mother had barely spoken about him.
"I'm bored!" Samson was by her desk, leaning backwards and balancing the chair on two legs, in danger of falling over.
"Stop that! You'll break it." Raine put her fists to her hips, attempting to stare him down, but he just grinned back at her.
"Let's go read." He jumped off the chair and walked out of the room with a bounce in his steps. "Let's read one of Caretaker's books."
"You know we're not meant to," she said sternly, but she was already excited as she followed him down the steps.
Carefully, she felt the door handle to Caretaker's room. It was unlocked. Slowly, she pushed the door open slightly and peered through the gap, although she knew he wasn't there. She tiptoed inside, knowing she shouldn't be there, but he had never noticed so far. Maybe she'd get away with it again? She stared in awe at his robes on a coat hanger, the pristine white fabric adorned with a circle and a cross; the symbol of a Templar, the guild of magicians.
Apart from a simple bed and a large desk - empty apart from a roll of parchment and a quill in its inkwell - the room was dominated by floor-to-ceiling bookcases. They gazed in amazement at the shelves, stacked to the brim with bound volumes of different colours and sizes. There were books about adventures, history, magic, maps of Mekkan and everything in between. Most importantly, the books were about the world outside the cabin, a world Raine had yet to see for herself.
"That one!" Samson pointed to a thick volume with a maroon cover on a high shelf.
The books further up on the shelves tended to be somewhat scary, but curiosity took overhand, so Raine pulled a chair over and stood on it to reach the volume. They laid down on the floor and with trembling hands she opened the cover, while Samson peered over her shoulder. There were far too many words she didn't know yet, but this book was full of drawings. In awe, she slowly turned the pages and studied each picture carefully, frightened that the fierce creatures might jump out of the pages; Keidran.
There were packs of wolves, sly foxes and tigers with sharp teeth and claws. She had to skip a few pages depicting the beasts attacking humans, and what looked too much like blood, to a chapter showing Templars capturing the beasts, no doubt using their wonderful magic. Then there were pages showing dog Keidran working in a field. She was puzzled by the collars around their necks, and shackles around their wrists and ankles.
"S-l-a-v-e-s..." Slowly and carefully she pronounced the foreign word, having no idea what it meant.
Samson was restless and walked over to the window. Raine joined him looking out at the wintery landscape. It was mid-afternoon, telling by the sun hanging low in the sky, making the trees cast long shadows.
"I want to go outside and play in the snow," he said and pointed to a knoll sticking out of the forest some distance away. "Maybe we can see the village from there?"
"But there might be Keidran in the woods," Raine protested.
"Have you actually seen any?" Samson turned to her with a sly smirk. "Besides, you have your magical locket to keep you safe."
Raine looked at the iron bars across the window. They were meant to keep dangers out, but while she didn't know what a prison was, she knew the feeling of being locked inside. All the windows that were not far above off the ground had reinforcements like this, all except one, and Caretaker didn't know, or at least didn't know that she knew.
Dressed in her coat, boots and hat, she carefully walked down the steep stairs to the washroom in the basement. Samson, always rash and impatient, skipped down the steps two at a time. Huffing and puffing, she heaved a sack of potatoes out of a crate and lifted the crate up onto a bench. Scrambling on top, she could just reach the small window above, one that Caretaker had forgotten to nail shut. She undid the clasps and pushed it open, some snowflakes falling down onto her face. Samson disappeared out the window in a flash, and grunting she struggled to follow him through the narrow opening.
The air outside was fresh, but not too cold, just below the freezing point. She closed her eyes and turned towards the sun, its rays providing a little warmth on her face. Drops of water splashed into the snow behind her, falling from the slowly melting icicles under the eaves. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed that Samson had not put any warm clothes on; he was standing barefoot in the snow, only wearing his shirt and trousers.
"Aren't you cold?" she asked. "Let me fetch you a coat."
"Nah, I have my own one." As he smiled at her, his face changed; his grin turned into a snarl, fangs appeared in a growing muzzle, and pointy ears sprouted on his head. Within a few moments, he had completely morphed into a black and brown wolf pup, standing on his hind legs with fur covering face and paws. "I will be a powerful Templar when I grow up. The Keidran will never know there's a spy among them."
Raine was amazed and also a little envious of his perfect transformation, wishing that she could use magic like that. A spy, now there was a thought. Maybe that's what her father was, living amongst the Keidran as one of their own, learning their secrets to protect all humans, including Mother. Maybe that's why he never visited?
With a howl Samson turned and ran. Raine chased after him into the forest, where he soon vanished between the trees. She followed his tracks as best as she could, until they stopped by a small creek. She looked and listened, but all she could hear was the soft murmur of water over rocks, where it flowed in the partially frozen stream.
A lump of snow fell on her head, some of it getting inside her collar and down her back, making her squeal from the chill. A laughter burst out, a cackling from overhead. Looking up, she could see Samson sitting in the tree just above her with his feet dangling from a branch.
"You'll make a good snowman," he said with a giggle.
"I'll get you back." She grabbed two handfuls of snow - just soft enough to be kneaded into a loose ball - and hurled it towards the cheeky cub. He fended it off easily with a paw, but also lost his balance and fell down into a deep snow drift, still giggling. Seeing Raine getting another snowball ready, he scrambled back on his paws. The chase continued, while she hurled projectile after projectile after him, several of them hitting its target. He morphed again, this time into a white wolf, making it harder for Raine to see him in the snow, but she could still follow the sound of his infectious laughter.
She caught up with him by the pond, where Caretaker had taught her to ice skate last winter. The memory of sliding across the frozen surface, which had caused her many sore bruises at the time, brought a smile to her face. "I wish I had the blades for my boots."
"Who needs skates?" The boy wolf's tail wagged happily. "We can just slip-n-slide."
She gasped. "But the ice might be too thin."
"Come on scaredy-cat." He brazenly stepped out onto the frozen water. "It's been winter for weeks."
But Samson struggled to stay on his hind legs on the slipper surface, falling over time and time again. Soon he gave up, instead running and skidding around on all fours, yipping like an excited puppy. Raine laughed at him, while she slid across the pond, pretending to be wearing her ice skates. It was always so much fun with Samson.
Though, sliding in her boots was hard work, so she took a long run-up and squealing slid all the way across to the other shore of the small pond. The white wolf boy came after her, twirling as he skidded on four paws, while their laughter echoed around the clearing.
There was a loud crack.
Raine looked around. She had ended up close to where the creek flowed out of the little lake. Where there was running water, the ice was thinner, that's what Caretaker has said, and she also remembered another piece of advice; When you're out in the cold, whatever you do, don't get wet. You could freeze to death in no time.
Moving her boot carefully, she took a small step away from the outflow. The ice groaned under her, but held. She took another small step, then another. Painstakingly, she inched away from the treacherous spot. She would be fine. Relieved, she smiled at Samson who stood a short distance away, theatrically wiping his brow with a paw.
There was another crack and a splash as the forest disappeared from Raine's view. A freezing cold engulfed, attacking her body and clenching her heart in an iron grip, when she realised that she was underwater. Thrashing about, she desperately reached for the shimmering light above. With every kick of her legs, it got a little closer, only to fade back as her heavy clothes dragged her down. Her lungs burned, and moments turned into an eternity before she finally broke through the surface, gasping for air.
She tried to call for help, but her cold-stricken body seized up, only allowing her to draw short breaths. Putting her arms on the ice, she tried to pull herself up, but her hands found no purchase on the slick surface. She fumbled around, trying to find something to cling to. She pounded the ice to break it. She kicked her legs with all her might, trying to push herself out. But no matter what she did, it was to no avail. Panic set in. She tried to scream, but only a hoarse wheeze left her mouth.
The cold was paralysing, frightening her to the core. Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. Closing her eyes, she cried. She felt too frozen to move, her hands went numb, and and odd tingling sensation ran through her fingers. When she opened her eyes again, her hand were covered in white fur. All she could do was to gawk at them.
"Use the claws!"
She looked up, having completely forgotten about Sampson, who was standing on thicker ice just out of reach.
"Use your claws," he urged again, scratching his paws on the ice, showing her what to do.
Dumbfounded, she put her paws on the ice, trying to dig her claws into the hard surface, but they only slipped.
"Do it again!"
She tried again, noticing the scratch marks she had left on the glassy surface.
"Don't give up!"
She clawed again, and again, and again. Frantically, she kept scratching, clawing, tearing, shavings of ice flying around her paws, until her fingers ached.
"You can do it!"
Finally, the ice was rough enough for her pink beans to find some traction. With a last almighty pull and kick, her upper body launched on top of the ice. Crawling on her elbows and stomach - absentmindedly watching her bleeding paws - she finally dragged herself out of the freezing hole. Staying low, she crawled on all four all the way to the other bank, where she finally stood up on wobbly legs, only to realise she didn't know the way home.
"Where t-t-to n-now?"
"I'm not sure." Samson's head turned back and forth, his ears swivelling as he looked for something familiar. "Wait, I know, we can follow our tracks."
She found her own footprints in the snow, letting them guide her back towards the cabin. She stumbled, fell in the snow, and dragged herself up, only to fall again. Her legs felt heavy as lead. Her body shook as the hypothermia set in. The sun had set, darkness hiding her footprints from before. Shivering, she fell to her knees again, unable to walk further.
Crying inconsolably, the tears threatening to freeze to her cheeks, she realised she would never make it back home. She would never see Caretaker's friendly face again, having ignored his words of wisdom. She would never experience Yuletide again, the joy of winter. Distraught, she thought of the one person she loved the most and who she would never see again: Mother.
"Raine!"
The voice was distant.
"Raine!"
It sounded full of anguish.
Raising her head a little, she saw a light flickering up ahead, bobbing around between the tree trunks. With a last effort, she tried to muster up a cry, barely more than a whimper.
"Help!"
The light moved closer, drifting, fading in and out of view, until a dark shadow stood in front of her. The lantern in his hand casting its light on Caretaker's bearded face.
"Raine!" Two strong arms lifted her by the armpits and hoisted her up. "What have you done?"
With one arm he held her close to his chest, while the other wrapped his thick coat around her. She soaked up his body heat as he turned around and set off at a brisk pace, her limp body bouncing with every step in his embrace.
"Stay with me, Raine. Stay with me."
He kept talking to her, as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Rocking back and forth in his arms, time and space lost their meaning. All she could do was to cling on to his broad shoulders and his deep voice. She didn't notice the clank of the lock, or the door slamming shut behind them. Finally, there was heat and a glowing light. Is this what it's like to pass on to the other side? she thought.
It felt nice... peaceful.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw a familiar sight; the cabin's open fireplace and amber flames dancing above the logs. She was laying on a thick rug, covered in heavy blankets. Caretaker knelt on the floor beside her. Seeing she was awake, he gently pulled her up in a sitting position.
"Here, have some of this." He carefully put a mug to her mouth and she had a small sip of the honey water, the warm and sweet liquid thawing her frozen body a little. She had another, and another, until she eagerly put her paws around the mug to warm them as well... only to realise they were back to her normal hands. It must've been my imagination, she thought. There were still specks of blood on her fingertips, where she had scratched them raw on the ice.
"I'm so sorry," she stammered.
"Yes, you should not sneak out like that." He sighed, disappointment in his eyes. "It could have ended really badly. What would your mother have said? She would have been hurt so much... and so would I."
"I understand you need to punish me." Tears welled up in her eyes again, but Caretaker just shook his head.
"I think you had an almighty fright, and that's punishment enough this time." He whispered something else under his breath, something Raine could hardly make out, "You've been punished too much your whole life." She didn't know if he meant for her to hear it, but he stood up before she could ask. "Finish your drink and I'll cook us some supper."
"Please Caretaker, may I have my notebook," she pleaded, looking up at the man. "I want to write a letter to Santa."
"Yes," he said and smiled back at her. "I think that will be a good idea."
He soon returned with her notebook and a quill, before heading to the kitchen. Samson sat down next to her, back in his human form, and stared into the fire. The flickering flames reflected in his dark eyes. She dipped the quill in the inkwell and wrote some sprawling words with a shaky hand.
Dear Santa, I have tried my best to be a good girl, and I promise to be even better next year.
Samson moved closer, leaning in to see what she was writing.
Still, if I have been nice enough, I only have two wishes.
The first would be for Mother to visit me for Yuletide, because it would make me so happy.
She lifted the quill from the paper and glanced sideways at Samson. Would he mind? He looked back at her with sad eyes, yet a small smile on his face. Of course he would understand. He was just a product of her own imagination after all.
I also wish I could have a real friend to play with.