RTYY 112 - A Memory of Cold Water and Darkness

"I guess you more or less got it under control," ZaiWin observed when the air cooled down and, as easily, returned to its normal temperature. It had been five days since the damn brat had practically frozen him to death, but he'd finally been able to control it.

Snow smiled sheepishly, even though he was clearly proud of his own achievement, and nodded. After the first two times he'd stopped getting trapped in his memory, but it still had taken him another three days to be able to completely control his daitai.

"We can do the next one."

ZaiWin watched him for a moment, quickly trying to measure how tired he was, and ended up sighing. Unless he intended to put his foot down regarding that matter, he knew it was no use trying to persuade him to postpone their training session until the following night.

"Fine. But ready yourself. You'll probably be dragged to one of your memories again." And who knew what would come out of it.

Snow took a deep breath, straightening his back, and relaxed his shoulders.

"Ready?"

He simply nodded and, at the soft touch of those warm fingers against his skin, he suddenly wasn't sitting there anymore.

It was night and it was raining. It was raining so hard that the sound was unbearably loud, leaving him deaf to everything else.

He was sitting in a corner of the small shack Sand had built for them, and he was small again.

Even though there was something like a ceiling over his head, the water still filtered inside through the several gapes left unsealed, forming large puddles of mud on the dirt ground. And so he was doing his best to cower at one of the few dry corners, hoping the rain would subside, unable to sleep with all that thundering noise, worrying that Sand was yet to return home.

Suddenly the loud sounds of shouting reached his ears, rising above the deafening sound of the rain.

In any other occasion, he wouldn't have paid them any attention, since he usually did his best to stay out of other people's way. But with such a heavy rainstorm, he feared that something serious might be happening. Just the year before the river had almost flooded the banks, dragging their small house with it. And it wasn't the first time that parts of the bridge that offer some shelter to their small shack collapsed, due to the bad weather.

Fearing something like that might be happening, Snow stood up, crossing the small space, and opened the door, that was practically torn away from his small hands by the sheer force of the howling wind.

He was completely wet in a matter of instants, the wind whipping his drenched tunic against his twiggy legs, the sharp force of the rain hurting on impact, forcing him to raise an arm to protect his face.

Following the sound of the screaming voices, he looked up at the bridge, under which Sand had built their small home. As he'd expected, there were people up there, holding fire lamps of those that no amount of wind or rain could ever blow out. Snow had always found them magical, the way the small flames would simply burn without need of wood or straw. And then he finally understood what they were saying. Someone had fallen into the river.

With his arm still up, trying to stand as firmly as he could under the fierce storm, he searched the raging waters that rushed by right in front of him.

Even though the river wasn't too wide, it was rather deep, its waters normally fast even on a sunny day. It never froze, no matter if the entire world around it got covered in white snow. But the temperature of the water could get so low that people would die just from falling into it in the winter.

That night, due to the intense rain and howling wind, its waters looked exceptionally angry, dragging all kinds of debris, even dead trees, along its current.

Searching the darkness, guided by the direction that the people on the bridge kept screaming at, Snow finally found the object of their attention. Someone was really there. He could see a small head and a pale tunic, as whoever had fallen into the river tried to hold on to a bunch of branches that had gotten stuck, just before the bridge. Whoever it was looked too small to be a grownup, he quickly concluded and, from time to time, their head would disappear under the dark waters. It was a matter of time before they drowned.

Urgently looking around for a way to help, Snow's gaze fell on the large rope he and Sand had tied from one bank of the river to the other, crossing it from side to side.

Because they depended of the river's waters for their survival, Sand had tied that rope to make sure they were safe whenever they had to step into its strong waters. Now the rope kept dancing back and forth, but it had been apparently well tied up, since it was still resisting the the strong wind.

Running to it, stumbling and almost falling on the muddy ground beneath his feet, Snow did his best to undo the knots that tied it to an old tree trunk on his side of the river. Having to use both hands, he was forced to leave his face unprotected, the hard rain hurting his cheeks, making it almost impossible to see what he was doing.

He didn't know how he ended up being able to undo all those knots, but suddenly the rope was finally free. In the next instant it was almost pulled away from his hands, and Snow was almost forced to let go of it, the palms of his hands burning when it nearly slipped from his grip. Once untied, the rope had fallen in the water, and the river was trying to drag it away like everything else. Clenching his teeth, planting his feet firmly on the muddy ground, and did his best to resit the water's immeasurable strength. Whatever he wanted to do he'd better to it fast!, he told himself, since he obviously couldn't hold on much longer.

Spinning over himself, he laced the rope around his waist and tried to tie it as best as he could, while resisting the force that kept wanting to drag him towards the water. Once he managed to secure it around his waist, he quickly got rid of his rope sandals, since he would just end up loosing them anyway, and finally allowed the rope to go where it wanted to go, throwing him into the water.

Having been raised on those river banks since birth, Snow had learned how to swim early in his life. He had also learned to know the river. To know when and when not to dive into its turbulent waters. And so he knew, even before he was dragged down under water as if he were no more than a lifeless body, that today was definitely a no day.

The water of the river was so cold that, for a moment, his muscles refused to obey, his head throbbing as if it were about to explode. Holding on to the rope as his guide, Snow made his best to pull himself towards the surface, knowing that if he failed to do so he would most certainly drown.

Gasping for air, inevitably being dragged by the strong current, he caught glimpses of the pile of dead wood stranded in the middle of the river. And then he too, had passed by it at a rushing speed. The rope, however, was still tied to the other bank and, like everything else, got stuck on the dried branches sticking out of the water's surface, and suddenly he wasn't moving anymore. Like a rock sticking out of the water, he just floated there, making his best to keep his head above the raging current, while withstanding its full force against his small body.

Holding on to the rope, afraid it might get untied, he blinked and tried to see where he'd stopped, in relation to that pile of debris.

He wasn't far, he realized, spitting out the water that kept filling his mouth. Even though he couldn't clearly see in the dark,much less with all that rain, the warm light coming from lamps on the bridge just above his head kept showing him the way.

Forcing his freezing arms to bend, Snow did his best to pull himself up the rope, his legs frantically pushing against the water. Since the rope had gotten stuck on the debris, he knew, even without looking, that if he kept following it he would eventually reach his goal.

As he got closer, he could finally hear someone crying, their voice constantly cut by a dangerous gurgling sound.

Snow knew he'd reached the place when he scrapped his legs on the sharp branches underwater, and he quickly searched with his hands for someplace firm to hold to. By then he was so tired that all he could do was to hold on and breathe, the strong rain making everything harder, the deep cold slowly numbing his hands and feet.

The sound of the crying voice directed his attention, and then he finally saw her, a young girl, not much older than him. Her beautiful dress had gotten caught in one of the dry branches, and that was the only reason why she hadn't been dragged further down the river. In fact,, that was also the only reason why she was still breathing, since her head was naturally held above the strong waters most of the time.

Climbing over the pile of dead branches, Snow did his best to reach her, making sure he untangled the rope as he went. Now and then the pieces of wood beneath his hands and knees would sink under his weight, making him lose his balance, small splinters of wood digging into his palms and legs.

By the time he reached her, he was shivering so much that it almost felt as if his body wasn't his anymore. And so it was with a pained expression that he allowed himself to slide down into the cold water again.

"Hold on …" he whispered, pushing her up towards the closer branch, but it was as if he was trying to raise a dead weight out of the water. Sobbing, the little girl kept crying, her wet dress making everything much harder.

"Tie the rope around her!!" a loud shout reached his ears and he looked up to follow it.

More people had since then gathered on the bridge, and he could see that others were running towards the other bank, to where the rope was still tied to another tree.

"Just tie her up! We can pull her!" the same voice shouted. It looked like a man, even though Snow couldn't be sure, the rain hurting his eyes every time he looked up.

His breath ragged from the cold, he did as he was told, his numb, wet fingers trying his best to undo the knot around his waist.

Where he was now, more or less protected by the wall of debris, there was no eminent risk that he might be dragged by the raging current. And so he quickly tied the rope around the girl's waist, testing its resistance before he let go. Next he did his best to pull himself out of the water again, climbing over the branches, to free her dress. Tired and cold, Snow had to make use of all his strength to be able to release the wet fabric. The moment he did it, the girl's body was immediately dragged away by the waters, only stopping when the rope tensed up.

Screaming and fighting to keep her head above the raging waters, the little girl was quickly pulled towards dry land.

Sitting on a wet branch, Snow looked towards the river bank and could see the pale glow of orange lights where more people stood, probably pulling the rope.

She'd be safe soon, he thought with a sigh of relief, his body momentarily relaxing. Until the branch beneath him gave in, part of the debris being dragged down by the river.

Thrown back into the cold water, Snow held on to whatever his hands could reach. He had to hold on! Hold on just a bit more, until they could save the girl and throw the rope back at him. He held on to that thought with the same strength he forced his hands to hold on to that small piece of wood, just bearing with it, just making sure he kept breathing.

When he thought that it was about time they had saved her, he raised his head towards the bridge but saw nothing but darkness, the hard drops of rain hurting his face. With an extra effort, he tried to look towards the river bank, but the warm orange lights were all gone as well. Everything was dark and cold around him. But still he waited. Still he held on. They would undoubtedly throw him back the rope. He waited even after he'd stopped believing his own thoughts, until his numb fingers finally gave in and he was dragged into the cold depths of the angry river.

Thrown back and forth, he could no longer tell where up and down were. His head hurt. His chest hurt. And he knew he would be dead soon.

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