SNOWBOUND – #flashfictionmagic
The ropes of snow cut into my bare forearms, pinning them to my sides.
“Grila, you must let go!”
The snow goddess stood like a pillar of fury at the mouth of her cave, face chiseled from dark ice, eyes blue frozen ocean.
Was it only yesterday she’d laid soft fingers of wool along my neck and pressed a delicate china cup of steaming cinnamon tea into my hands?
Something had happened between now and then, something to freeze what goodwill she felt toward me.
My tongue began to chatter against my teeth. “Grila!” My words lost in the gale whipping down the narrow path I’d ascended every day since I’d found her cave. I pressed forward against the snow that held me, trying to meet her eyes. The motion caught her attention for a moment, but rather than the recognition I hoped for, her midnight eyes deepened in anger.
“They are dead because of you,” she snarled.
“Dead?” I mouthed back.
She swept her icy skirt to the side, letting the wind die for a moment, revealing the frail, exquisite bodies of snow sprites piled in the cave’s entrance. Soot ringed the opening, the ice and snow smeared by dirty ash.
“Grila, what has happened?” Dread made its own icy way inside me.
“Your villagers,” she spat. “They followed you and tried to burn me out. They killed my children instead, the fools. As if a fire can kill winter!” She howled the last words across the sky, and a blinding blizzard exploded over the village below.
When I turned back, my mouth open to beg for mercy, for understanding, I found her watching me.
“I need more children, now.” Her voice sounded almost as soft as yesterday. She reached out, her nails sharp with icicles. I recoiled, screaming, but her bands of snow swirled around me, stiffening my joints, freezing me inside and out.
When I opened my eyes, the world was beautiful and warm.
My mother, Grila, smiled down at me, her fingers comforting on my cheek.
“Grila, you must let go!”
The snow goddess stood like a pillar of fury at the mouth of her cave, face chiseled from dark ice, eyes blue frozen ocean.
Was it only yesterday she’d laid soft fingers of wool along my neck and pressed a delicate china cup of steaming cinnamon tea into my hands?
Something had happened between now and then, something to freeze what goodwill she felt toward me.
My tongue began to chatter against my teeth. “Grila!” My words lost in the gale whipping down the narrow path I’d ascended every day since I’d found her cave. I pressed forward against the snow that held me, trying to meet her eyes. The motion caught her attention for a moment, but rather than the recognition I hoped for, her midnight eyes deepened in anger.
“They are dead because of you,” she snarled.
“Dead?” I mouthed back.
She swept her icy skirt to the side, letting the wind die for a moment, revealing the frail, exquisite bodies of snow sprites piled in the cave’s entrance. Soot ringed the opening, the ice and snow smeared by dirty ash.
“Grila, what has happened?” Dread made its own icy way inside me.
“Your villagers,” she spat. “They followed you and tried to burn me out. They killed my children instead, the fools. As if a fire can kill winter!” She howled the last words across the sky, and a blinding blizzard exploded over the village below.
When I turned back, my mouth open to beg for mercy, for understanding, I found her watching me.
“I need more children, now.” Her voice sounded almost as soft as yesterday. She reached out, her nails sharp with icicles. I recoiled, screaming, but her bands of snow swirled around me, stiffening my joints, freezing me inside and out.
When I opened my eyes, the world was beautiful and warm.
My mother, Grila, smiled down at me, her fingers comforting on my cheek.
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