It's cold. I can barely feel my legs.

I see only white. It obscures my vision completely, while the harsh wind bites into my naked arms and legs, making my tiny body tremble every time it changed direction. It's so painful to move, my skin slowly turns blue and black in some places, but I'm too scared to stop. I'm scared that, if I stop, I will die.

I don't want to die, but the more I advance, the less I'm able to think. I don't understand where I am, some sort of mountain or such. I barely even remember who I am. I don't remember so many things… like who I am… where I come from… what is my name… why am I here… all those things are irrelevant, so I throw them away along the road, feeling the only desire to move forward.

I make another step, and my body finally reaches its limit. I fall to the ground, unable to stand upright anymore, and treacherous voice at the back of my mind grows louder. It tells me to give up and simply let this all happen. It would be so easy to give up, to simply stop this altogether and rest…

I'm such an idiot. I try to shout and hope that there's someone around here. I refuse to surrender. I know that chances of somebody crossing those mountains are extremely low, even impossible, but rationality never was my forte. I shout and a tiny, almost defeated voice escapes my lips. I plea for someone to find and save me from this icy hell.

"Oh? Now, what do we have here?"

I look up and see a person that reminds me of a mighty and old oak. I remember that… there was an old tree growing near my window. It was all wrinkled and withered, but still looked very sturdy and elegant despite its advanced age. It had hidden strength, my father used to tell me, and like this tree, we too must only grow stronger with each passing century. It was this kind of tree that this person reminded me of, a wrinkled and sturdy oak.

"Are you taking a stroll, young lady? If that's the case, then you surely made a rather poor choice of clothing," he said, mockingly scolding me like a kind, old grandfather.

I chuckle at his joke, and perhaps, this was the straw that broke the camel's back since I finally lost my conscious. In the last moments, I saw his face suddenly turn from mildly playful into dead serious in an instant. I saw his lips move, trying to tell me something possibly important, perhaps trying to reassure me everything would turn out fine. I didn't care anymore at this point, but that last gesture was… nice of him.

"It will all be good, young one! It will be fine, so keep your eyes open!"

And the time passes. I open my eyes and instead of the all-engulfing whiteness of snow, I see only white sheets of a comfortable bed under me. It's soft, as if I'm resting on a puffy cloud. I feel relaxed and completely at peace. I look around some more, and see a place filled with sunlight, where everything is made of wood for some reason, as if this whole house was made from a carved from inside tree.

It's when a strange lady with pink hair and a red cape adorned with fangs across her collar appears, closely peering at me and suddenly taking away the bedsheet with one swift movement. I peer at my charred, black legs and find nothing to say.

"It is as I thought," she says, sounding very displeased. I try to apologize, in the case I did something bad, but she instead silences me with a sharp gesture and tells me to get dressed, pointing at a pile of clothes draped over a wooden chair nearby. I try to reach them, but clumsily fall from my bed. I try to stand up, but can't.

"It's still too early for you to move those legs around, girl." I look up and see her wrinkled face twist into a deep frown on her face. It must be because I'm so clumsy that she turned so displeased with me. I bowed my head in shame and said.

"I'm sorry for troubling you so much, madam." I remember saying those words long time ago, repeating them times and times, while standing on my knees. It was a vivid scene to me: a scared, little girl, begging on her knees for forgiveness, and a harsh mistress with cold eyes, not unlike the pink-haired lady before me.

"I'm no madam, girl, and I don't see why you should say sorry. It's not you're at fault for getting a frostbite from walking deep within the mountains barefoot," she says and gently, motherly even, picks me up and puts back on the bed. "I'll help you get dressed, so don't tussle too much or I'll drop you."

I smile and say to her. "You're really kind, miss." It doesn't matter if she's so scary-looking, since the moment I felt her arms wrap around me, I felt extreme sense of warmness spread across my body, making me feel happy and safe. I don't know my name yet, and I can't tell what will happen next, but this person and that person before… the oak-tree old man… both of them were really warm.

"It's Porlyusica, girl. Now, let's get you dressed, so I can show that worrywart Warrod that you're all fine and well," the lady nags at me, but I don't mind. I remember another woman saying nearly the same words somewhere in the past, while showing me a loving smile.

It was the moment that everything changed and my whole life turned upside down. I made lots of friends later, saw incredible things and found a place called home. Yet, if I were to tell the story of my life, this would be the starting point: a miraculous rescue and a magical place.