Jaspen

My jaw ached from the cold as I pushed through the snow, my legs threatening to give out from under me. My joints were so stiff that I felt them crackle and snap with every step forward. I wasn't built for the cold and neither was my light attire. Tree branches slapped me, stinging and going numb time and time again against my face- the only thing that reassured me I was still alive. I didn't even know where I was anymore. All I knew was that every step took me another step farther from home. I felt my horse's breath against my neck. She was my only companion now. I let out a sigh and stopped searching for any sign of another living thing in the dense forest.

I deserve this, I reminded myself. I deserved this.

Part of me wanted to just lie down in the snow and never get back up. The snow looked so comforting at the moment--like a blanket of wonderful feathers. It wasn't as though my body would know the difference as numb as I was. My will to keep living was decreasing. How long had it been since I had eaten? The last time, I believe, was on the edge of the sandy desert that led to the "greener" part of the world two days past. I shook my head getting the cool flakes out of my hair. I willed myself back into the saddle of my horse and wrapped my arms around her neck clinging limply to her chilled body.

"I'm sorry, Svia," I whispered. "I'm sorry, girl."

She stumbled on as I fell in and out of consciousness on her back. It wasn't till morning that I became alert to the sound of a flute in the distance. I took her reins in my hand and willed her to the right of us. My whole body was shaking drastically trying to warm itself. I kept following the sound of the flute until my horse stumbled into a clearing and I saw before me a girl, not much older than myself, perched on a rock. Her hair was fire red and made me ache all over for warmth. Her skin was fair and her thin body was dressed in black breeches and a white shirt that made her stand out against the blank background. She looked up from her delicate fingers and cast her eyes on me. "Papa!" she called. "Papa!"

I barely registered what she was saying as my world tilted.

****

I awoke later to feeling an odd sensation. Warmth. I willed my eyes open and immediately slammed them shut with a groan because light hit my sensitive eyes.

"Papa," I heard a girl whisper excitedly. "Papa, he stirs."

Her accent was rich with the rugged speech of the northerners. I still was in awe that I understood their language after only ever reading text on scrolls.

I tried opening my eyes again and this time the light didn't hurt as much. I saw two figures looking down at me. It was the girl from the meadow and a man who I guessed was her father.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said.

His voice held the same rugged speech. He was a tall, thin man with very chiseled and sleek features- some features I recognized as those shared by Ishtar had. Fairies. These were the southern fairies They lived more like gypsies and their northern cousins were known to look down on them.

"Do you think he's a mute, Papa?" I blinked in surprise.

"I'm no mute," I said, my voice sounding like gravel.

The man stifled a laugh. "Get the boy some water, Zoë. He must be thirsty and hungry after his long rest."

The girl ran, shutting the door with a loud thud behind her. I sat up and looked around to find myself sitting in a small carriage- well, wagon- that was fully furnished. I looked down to see I was no longer in my clothes; I was dressed in a thick, woolen, plain, white shirt that was slightly too big for me with thick, woolen black pants and I saw my boots had even been replaced- they sat on the floor over by the door.

"She took it upon herself to tend to you for the last few days; you gave us quite a scare. Your skin was a light blue sheen, your lips dark blue. For a few hours we thought you would surely die."

"I appreciate your hospitality, sir," I whispered, looking down at my hands.

"What were you doing out there in tattered summer clothes, boy? I've never seen the fashion of clothing such as you wore. You were also splattered in blood- both yours and others'- and dirt."

"I'm from the Shemesh tribe," I whispered. "I was attacked and lost my companion."

I chanced a glance at the man. He seemed in shock.

"I've never met a nomad. It's been years since anyone else has seen one."

Just then, his daughter bustled back in and grabbed a tankard before handing it to me. I took a tentative sip feeling the ice cold liquid slip down my throat, chilling me from the inside out. I pulled the furs closer, forcing a smile.

"Thank you," I said to her.

She smiled, flushing slightly before excusing herself and running out. I looked at her father, confused.

"Don't worry too much about Zoë. She's not used to meeting outsiders."

I nodded.

"Are you hungry?"

"Aye, sir," I said.

He smiled. "My name is Cael, my boy. I'm sorry for forgetting to mention it earlier."

"It's fine," I said, taking another sip.

"And you are?" he asked, cocking a brow.

"My name was Jaspen," I whispered. "Now I am just a wanderer with no name, titles or history."

Cael clapped me on the back making me flinch slightly.

"Your name is still Jaspen."

I looked down. This man didn't understand.

"I was banished. When you are banished you are stripped of all family, titles, ranks, and your name. I am no one."

"There will be time for tales later, for now let's get you outside and get you some stew and let you meet our leader, Bowie. We've all been waiting for you to stir."

"How long was I out?"

"Only two days," he said getting up and handing me my boots.

I quickly slipped them on feeling the wool lining. I wasn't used to such thick clothes, but they were wonderful for this kind of weather.