She tugged her thick wool coat tightly to her core as she trudged through the Serbian storm. Her jaw was clenched shut, and she tried her hardest not to focus on the piercing cold attacking any bare skin.
She could see it now-- a tiny brown roof that seemed to glow in the middle of the snow. Her heart leaped to her throat as her pace quickened.
Her breathing was increasing, and in a moment she was banging on the large oak door. She tried to yell, but her throat was too frozen to speak. She couldn't feel her face, and as she was banging on the door she felt her fingers begin to fade.
Finally she had to put her hand back into her coat with defeat.
Fear hit her then, as she didn't know what was going to happen to her. She was feeling rather sleepy, and she knew if she closed her eyes she would not open them.
Suddenly the door flew open, and she felt a flurry of hands pull her into a shield of warmth.
"Atty? Atricia Belvrom?" Atty saw a familiar pair of dark blue eyes, and then all she saw was black.
There was a slight sound of crackling, and Atty wiggled her fingers reflexively. Beneath her she felt a soft fabric. Wool. There was an overwhelming smell of campfire, as well as... lilac. She parted her lips to speak, only to be attacks by the dry sandpaper that was her tongue.
This pulled her eyes open with confusion. The room around her was dim, with only a faint glow of orange.
She was excessively thirsty, but she couldn't for the life of her pull herself up. Her legs hurt. Her face was numb. Her torso was throbbing.
"Drink this." A warm voice cooed and brought a large jug to Atty's lips. As soon as the water hit her tongue she was inhaling it.
"Don't drink too fast, you'll just--" Before the voice could finish, Atty rolled over and heaved up the water she drank.
"Vomit." The woman exhaled as a parent would a child, and began mopping up the water.
Atty was able to see her now, and she was struck with familiarity. The woman who was bending to clean up had long wavy dark hair that hit her waist, and the way she carried herself was with an utmost pristine confidence that only one person she had ever known would have.
Celeste Ilik.
"Celeste," Atty's voice sounded scratchy and raw, but she continued, "Cel. Oh thank the lord. I was hoping you still lived 'ere." She broke into a smile and found herself fumbling into Celeste's arms.
"Oh!" Taken by surprise, it took a moment for Celeste to return the hug. "What in god's send are you doing here, Atty? No, ignore me. You need to sleep and we can speak in the morning." Atty didn't need a second offer, as she was asleep moments after Celeste tugged a thick blanket on top of her.
She was standing in a busy market, with a light brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. People were crowding past her, shoving Atty in no specific direction. But for a split second, there was a break in the crowd, and she saw two little girls holding large baskets of goods.
Atty stepped forward, intrigued by these two figures, but as soon as the crowd filled out again she knew they were lost. She stood still, listening to the clatter of the market.
A saleswoman was trying to persuade a few passerby's how rare her jewelry wares were, a man was juggling different vegetables and had a small tin can by his feet, little children were racing through the plaza while shooting peas at one another.
It was a comforting chaos.
All the stands seemed pulled together by worn wooden logs and rope, but there were a few ones that really caught certain attention.
Maybe one or two of the stands had large, royal blue fabric outlining their small walls. And the intricate crest in the centre could only mean they belonged to Royal Family of Karadjodje. Not surprisingly, people seemed to swarm around those booths in awe and wishful thinking to purchase wares that had touched royalty.
A high pitched giggle erupted from the pottery booth, and Atty saw the two girls pointing at different styles of pottery. Atty could see them clearly now. Both of their dark hair twisted into braids that swung down their back, and long brown skirts that collected the dirt that filled the ground.
But they were smiling so brightly. Even with dirt on their faces, they seemed so playful and joyous.
A pang of nostalgia ran through Atty.
She watched the girl with dark blue eyes lead the girl with pale grey ones down the market street.
In a moment, the scene changed to a dark, small house.
She knew if she were to exit the small creaking door she would be surrounded by towering spruce trees and a few miles north would be a long winding river.
A sound caught her attention, and she turned in the dark. She could over-hear whispering coming from the next room over. She walked carefully, and reached out her hands instinctively to feel around her.
Atty felt the hard edge of a shelf, and she brought herself closer to the sound of voices. Finally, she felt a small round door knob that she proceeded to pull open.
There, in the middle of an empty room with nothing more than a few cushions that were piled in the center, were the two girls with a small candle in between them.
They seemed a bit older now, maybe fourteen years of age. Their hair was no longer braided, but free flowing down their shoulders.
The girl with the dark eyes spoke in a hushed tone, "Papa has been lookin' out for a marriage proposal for me, Atty. He says I'm t' be married off to one of them lords."
Younger Atty's mouth quivered, "But you're just a girl. And you are meant t'be watchin' me because if someone finds out where I came from--"
"No one's gunna find out, Atty," The girl reached over and took younger Atty's hands, "You're still safe. B'sides, I'm sure your family stopped lookin' for ya. No one survives winters alone, and you've been gone for so many years now."
"But Celeste--"
"They stopped lookin'." Younger Celeste's voice was hard. She spoke with a tone hinting that the conversation was over.
There was silence in the room, until Celeste's mouth twitched into a grin, "Papa said it may be one of Karadjodje's boys."
A gasp from little Atty startled her, "How can he do that? You're a farmer's child. A
daughter of a farmer!"
But Celeste simply smirked and ran a free hand through her hair.
She never answered.
Instead she brought her finger to the wick, and snuffed out the light.
Atty was woken up with a gentle nudge, and welcomed by a hot bowl of porridge. Relieved to see she still had her fingers and toes, she ate ravenously.
Sitting across from her was Celeste. No longer fourteen, and no longer holding a smirk.
They ate in silence, and it wasn't until Celeste put down her spoon that she asked what she had been wanting to since she pulled Atricia through her doors.
"Where did you go, Atty?" Sadness clouded her eyes, and she stared directly at Atricia.
She froze, her spoon to her lips. Atty looked at Celeste, feeling the cool range of emotions she was giving off.
"Where," Celeste's voice cracked, "Where were you?"
Atty placed her spoon into her bowl. "You told me you were leaving. I had to... find a new place that was safe."
"I never said I was leaving anytime soon. You warped it in your mind and you-" Celeste covered her eyes to regain composure, "You just left."
"I didn't come to fight about who was in the wrong--"
"Then why did you come at all?" She was pushing away from the table, flicking her dark hair over her shoulders.
"I heard about what happened. I was working for a family by the water mill. I knew you would hear of me working for them so I changed my name so when they spoke about me your family wouldn't recognize me." Atty pushed herself up from the table, "And when I was sowing the wheat I heard 'em say that Miss Celeste's husband had gone on a trip for goods and hadn't come home this winter." She stepped closer to Celeste, who had brought both hands to her face to stifle cries.
"You think he's dead." Her voice was bitter.
"I think that no one can survive by themselves in these winters. Heck, I barely managed to survive myself and-"
Celeste slammed her hands on the table, "You were stupid enough to travel through this god forsaken storm! But my Andrew is smart, and he wasn't alone! He has our dogs and another man-- Ludriv's sell sword."
Atty fell back to the table, sitting down.
Celeste picked up the wooden bowls and brought them to the compact kitchen. Over he shoulder she called, "How did you get down here anyway? The mill is as far north as crops can grow."
"When one of our wagons were being sent to the marketplace, I caught a ride in the back. But I had to walk the rest of the way after they delivered the goods."
Her eyes widened, "Atty, that isn't a short walk."
Atty genuinely laughed, "Yes I know. I almost lost a few limbs, Cel."
And then Celeste joined her laughter. The air around them seemed to lighten and a comfortable silence lifted between them.
"Cel?" Atty stood up and walked towards her, "What happened?"
"Well," Celeste brushed the back of her hands against her long woven skirt, "I heard you banging on the door, and thought it was the wind at first, but then I heard something crash against it so I rushed over to see what in the world had happened--"
"Not about last night, Celeste. What happened with your husband? Andrew, you said?" Light left Celeste's eyes as she cleared her throat. She pulled her shoulders back and gracefully pulled Atty into the small living area.
"He was in a rage when he decided to leave," She said once they were sitting on the cushions of a two-seated couch, "We had been arguing again about where to put the dogs. We have four of them. All Alaskan malamutes, so they're quite large, and he wanted to keep them outside, but I would not have their deaths on our hands if we could protect them. But he didn't want fleas in the house, so I told him if they had fleas they would've frozen to death by now, and he got all red in the face, yanked open the door and told me he was leaving for a goods run." She inhaled deeply and tried to brush her tears away, "He didn't say where he was goin'. But I saw another man by our wagon. And he had Ludriv's colours on. Y'know, them red and yellows."
Atty nodded, listening intently.
"But he left earlier this week. And the storm has only gotten worse."
"If he passes, you won't be sent notice until spring."
"He won't pass away, Atricia." Celeste glared at her, "As I said before, he is a smart man. With a swordsman. And dogs."
"A man who wields a sword and a few strong dogs won't protect a man from frost." Atty recoiled with how harshly she spoke, but regained herself, "What I mean is, there is a chance he can survive, but he has to be lucky."
Celeste didn't respond. She simply stood up and began cleaning the room, straightening books and what little belongings she really had.
"Celeste... Andrew isn't a name of one of Karadjodje's boys," Celeste froze, "What happened?"
She gave a harsh laugh, "Like you care. You bolted, Atricia. You left."
"You know why I had to leave!" Atty was sitting on the edge of the couch, "I would've been hung! Or crucified, or drowned, or
something!"
"That doesn't mean I didn't need you! My mother was tried as soon as you left because you caused such a disturbance! Everyone had thought she was a witch, Atty. And then she was drowned."
The blood drained from Atricia's face. Celeste was breathing heavily, gripping her skirt so tightly that Atty could clearly see the veins running up her arms.
"And that's when they began thinking I was a witch. But they couldn't prove it because my father was an important farmer. But then he stood up for my mother, Atricia. And he was killed while rounding the pigs for the winter last season. Shot through the heart," Celeste's hands began shaking, "His murderer said that he was seeing if his heart was in the center of his chest like a normal person. Because witches don't have hearts." Their eyes met, "But you would know that, Atty."
She was in a forest, and in front of her was a tiny cottage. The stones were dislodged in a few areas, and it almost seemed like a pile of rubble. But she knew it well. Atty stepped forward, feeling the crunch of branches and leaves under her bare feet. The air was crisp, but winter didn't fully envelop these areas. It was too far south.
She saw a child, maybe seven years of age running towards her. The girl had short dark hair tucked behind her ears, and large grey eyes.
The girl flurried past her in a long grey dress. And she smelled a faint scent of smoke.
Looking back to the cottage, she saw a small line of smoke exiting the roof. But she wasn't afraid, for she knew the house wasn't on fire. It was the fireplace. She knew that if she would walk through the narrow spruce door it would be immediately to her right, and a middle aged woman would be scrubbing clothes in front of it. The woman may be sitting on her knees, or on a small worn cushion. But there would be no man in that house, for he had died before this little girl was born.
There was a sharp scream that split the air, and Atty ran involuntarily towards it.
In the middle of a ring of mushrooms sat the girl, with a gaping cut from her ankle to her knee. Atty saw immediately what had caused it. But she already knew. Even if she didn't see the jagged stick poking up from the ground, she would have known the little girl had tripped over her feet and caught her leg on it.
And she knew that the little girl was going to place her hand on her leg in panic and cry for help.
And how in a few moments the cut would seal and there would be no evidence of the cut except for dry blood.
The girl stopped crying-- and slowly she stood up.
And she left the fairy ring.
"Atricia?" Celeste was snarling, "You come here and you don't even listen to me! Unbelievable."
"No- I'm sorry, Celeste. I was just remembering something. Please, please continue."
She hesitated, still angry.
"Andrew isn't a lord. In fact, he was as poor as we were. A merchant. But his cousin is a duke." She shrugged like that explained why she was still alive, "He offered protection in exchange for marriage. I said yes in a heartbeat." She looked away, "I love him... it took some time. But I do."
She lifted her chin, "Really I should thank you. I wouldn't've met him if you hadn't run off."
"I'm so sorry, Cel. I didn't know your parents would be targeted."
"Yeah right, you and your freakish powers probably foretold you'd die if they didn't. I can give you some blankets, but you need to leave soon, Atty. I don't want you here. This isn't your home anymore."
Atty noticed then how solemn this house was. Celeste would talk for hours on how she wanted a home full of children. But there were none. This wasn't anyone's home.
Atty's voice was a mere whisper, "Cel... did you two ever have kids?"
Celeste grew frigid.
She whispered, "They gave me something. So I couldn't carry children. They didn't want to chance it if I were a witch."
The same heavy silence separated them and Atty stood up.
"I'm so sorry. I just wanted to come to see if you needed help until Andrew came back. I didn't mean to be such a disturbance." Atty began to pass Celeste to gather her heavy jacket, but Celeste gripped her arm.
"You weren't a disturbance until you decided to leave."
She was watching the little girl hurry to her home-- Atty's home, and she followed close behind.
Inside, just as she knew, was the woman kneeling by the fire scrubbing at stained clothes.
The girl passed behind carelessly, knocking a metal basin over.
"Atricia!" The woman shouted as the girl hurried away, "Atricia, get back here and help me clean this up!"
Cautiously, the little girl entered again, mumbling an apology and kneeling down to help.
But the woman saw the scarlet colouring on her leg, and her brows furrowed.
Little Atty noticed this, and slowly adjusted her skirt over her legs.
Neither of them moved.
Little Atty glanced at the door, contemplating whether or not she would make it in time.
She brought her gaze back to the woman's.
The lady spoke, "Atricia... are you alright?"
Little Atty licked her dry lips, "Of course, Serena. I am ever so sorry about knocking this tub over, but I remember that I had forgotten something outside," She stood up, "If you were to excuse me..." She bowed and began towards the door.
"A slave girl does not exit the owner's household until they are dismissed or told to do so."
Her voice was cold.
Atty could see the little girl begin to look for ways to get out.
But the door was the safest.
"Of... of course, my lady." The little girl responded.
"Oh my," Serena exclaimed, "I haven't run to the market yet. I need to go collect some pieces of clothing," Serena stood up and brushed her long brown hair behind her neck, "It is supposed to snow soon." They stared at each other, waiting. Serena stepped forward quickly, and in a swift movement Serena lurched towards little Atty, and the girl let out a scream.
"Help!" The little girl yelled.
Serena trapped the girl easily within her arms, and when the girl bit Serena's arm she cussed.
The lady spat, "How dare a witch be livin' on my lands. I took you in and you have lied to me you piece of filth!"
The little girl got out of her hold and bolted to the door. Being so much smaller than the woman, she dodged what sounded like a plate smashing against the wall.
She was outside in a blur, and Atty watched her sprint into the woods, her short dark hair fading into the trees.
She was staring into the ocean. She always thought Celeste's eyes were like the ocean. So blue and dark and endless.
But Atty had never seen an ocean, but she liked to imagine that the colour would be the same as Celeste's irises.
That night she slept on the couch, listening to the wind howl outside.
And the next morning she grabbed her coat after a swift meal, and opened Celeste's door.
Celeste was standing behind her, watching her leave.
They hadn't spoken all morning.
Atty looked over her shoulder, and caught sight of the ocean.
Celeste's face cracked a bit, and she reached out towards Atty. They hugged for a long while, saying the goodbye that should have happened a few years prior.
And as Atty pulled away she said, "I hope your faith keeps your husband safe."
Then she walked through the doorway to the open sky.
The sky was a pale blue, clear of any clouds.
With each step she began to feel the chill of the winter.
But the wind had passed and the sun was shining.
She pulled her hood around her face and she began away from the market place, away from her friend.
Atty watched the little girl scurry through the woods, panting with exhaustion. She was confused as to where to go, but didn't want to stop running in fear of what would happen.
Serena would tell the towns folks.
If any lord or duke found out then she would be killed.
Hunted like a dog.
And Serena wasn't one to forget.
The little girl stumbled upon a strange home with tiny blue flowers dotting the front grassy region.
Tired and cold, she knocked on the door.
An old man emerged with a long white beard. He squeezed his eyes together to see the girl before him. He broke out into a tooth-less grin and motioned her inside.
"Ah, sweet little Atty." But as he bent down, he pointed over the mountains and whispered something to her.
She nodded thoughtfully and bowed to him. She then began walking north.
Atty was freezing. But she was there.
Familiar blue flowers dotted her way, and she found herself before a compact home.
She knocked, just as before, and the old man appeared.
He smiled his tooth-less smile.
"Ah, sweet little Atty. You're ready now."
He let her inside, the overwhelming scent of lilac.
And she felt relieved when he rose his hand in the air, flicked it, and shut the door.
