Blood and Bone

Clara had a vivid dream that was not her own, but like so many things since she had arrived here, felt intimately familiar. She rode a galloping horse across a huge field, a dress that seemed to be woven of gold flowing behind her. An army was gathered on the other side of the clearing, but she felt no fear as she raised his hand to lower her visor. Clara drew her sword, its weight comfortable in her grip and as the army charged, she yelled out, pushing her horse faster.

She could see the creatures of the army, their skin ashen and armor haphazard. As she reached their front lines, she felt herself get pulled back by an invisible string, and as she hit the ground, she kept falling into darkness. She blinked as she fell, weightless, but there was nothing. She was surrounded by a pitch black, but still felt the sensation of falling. Suddenly, she felt a cold hand grab her ankle. She screamed out, her voice echoing into the void, and tried to shake off her invisible attacker, but it was no use. Another hand grabbed at her, and another, and another, until she felt as though the disembodied hands were going to tear her apart. She gasped for breath as they closed around her throat and covered her face and then sat up, finally awake and soaked in sweat. Awake, Clara looked around frantically, for a moment forgetting where she was. Then it all came flooding back, and Clara didn't know what she wanted to feel.

Despite the night, the room was surprisingly bright, and she slid her legs out of bed. Clara shuffled to the window, wrapping the blanket tighter around her as she looked out to the snow covered land stretching out into the night. Clara noticed a small lock on the window, and unlatched it, pushing the window open to reveal a beautiful ice balcony. She walked out, looking up at the dark sky, at the stars that formed foreign constellations. Lights danced across the sky, and despite her hesitation towards this foreign land, she couldn't argue its beauty. Her breath seemed to hang in the air, forming small clouds that took their time to dissipate. She could feel the tears in her eyes well up and drip down her face. She sniffled, wiping them from her face. She felt as though someone was watching her and turned around to see a blanket wrapped Vasil standing in her doorway. His hair was disheveled from sleep, but his eyes were wide and bright. He looked at Clara with concern. Clara turned away, trying to hide her face.

"Doe?" Vasil asked softly, taking a few steps towards her. "What's wrong?" Clara sniffled again, letting herself slide down the wall of the balcony.

"I just," Clara whispered, feeling her voice about to break. "I want to go home." She couldn't stop herself now, the tears streaming down her face, her breath coming in sobs. Vasil rushed forward, sitting besides Clara on the floor, wrapping himself and his blanket around Clara. He cradled her body against his, using his legs as braces to surround Clara. She didn't try to stop him.

"I know that this is a lot, and you've been taking it so well, it is easy for us to forget that this is all so very new to you," Vasil gently placed a hand on her head, carefully brushing his fingers through her hair. Clara leaned in, resting her head against Vasil's chest as he spoke. Clara felt a calmness flow over her body as she sat this close to Vasil. A warmth, like a ray of sunshine filled her chest, and Clara closed her eyes.

"Each of the constellations mean something," Vasil said after a few minutes of quiet. "Like your own stars I believe." Clara opened her eyes, nodding. The sadness had left, leaving behind an ache of longing. Vasil began pointing, describing the different stars and their groups and what each constellation meant. "That one is the First Queen, with the King at her side." Vasil pointed, and Clara followed his hand to a bright star high in the sky. "Legends say that the King fell ill right as a huge war was to start, and instead of recalling the troops, the Queen donned his silver armor and led them herself." Clara gazed up at the stars as Vasil continued, listing off stars and myths and legends as the first hints of morning began to peek over the horizon. Clara felt herself falling asleep, and as she nodded off, she felt Vasil wrap his arms around her, picking her up almost effortlessly and placing her gently into her bed. When she opened her eyes again it was clearly morning, the sun higher in the sky. A new set of winter clothes were folded neatly at the end of her bed, and the window was once again latched shut. Vasil was gone, and Clara had to wonder if that too, was just a dream.

She dressed quickly, her teeth chattering before she was able to wrap himself once again in her cloak. How Jokull is able to live like this, Clara thought, I have no idea. Once fully dressed, she made her way down, back to the main hall, where Jokull and Vasil seemed to already be eating breakfast. Or in a full out argument, Clara couldn't tell.

"I told you, if we stand any chance of getting the Summer piece, we need the support of your armies," Vasil said, a strange looking vegetable in his hand. Jokull cut off a section of his own food, taking a bite before responding.

"And as I keep telling you, two people will be able to slip into that castle much easier than ten thousand." Clara reached the end of the table and the two stopped their argument to look over.

'You're up," Vasil raised his eyebrows, with a look on his face that Clara could only describe as...surprised? "You look, um…" Vasil began to stumble over his words. "You look nice," Vasil smiled. "Sit, have something to eat." Vasil gestured to the seat next to him, and Clara made her way over, sitting awkwardly on the ice chair. Someone placed a plate of food in front of her, and she realized that she truly was starving. She grabbed her knife and fork, and was about to dig in when she remembered one final piece of advice.

"Who," Clara pointed to what she hoped was eggs. "Who made this?" She directed the question at Jokull, who looked at her strangely. Then he understood and burst out laughing.

"That's elven food, Clara, and we don't set our visitors up with curses." Clara didn't need to be told twice and dug in. Jokull turned to Vasil, who in turn stuck out his tongue.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked at one point, through a mouthful of food.

"What?" Vasil asked, and Clara finished chewing.

"Where are we going? I heard you talking about sneaking somewhere."

"We need to get to the Summer Palace. However," Vasil paused.

"The Summer King has been," Jokull interrupted. "Let's say, corrupted. When the Fall King disappeared, he was quick to blame us, and then went on the attack, burning and destroying wide swaths of both of our lands." Jokull looked away. "There's rumors that he was seduced by power, tempted by the evil that plagued the land after the Fall." There was sadness in his voice. "When we first suspected, I tried to go and reason with him." Jokull took a deep breath, unclipping his own cloak and pulling down his shirt. Deep scars were etched into his chest, white from age but Clara could feel that they still felt fresh. "That's what I got in return." Vasil fiddled with the deep red ring on his finger, and Clara noticed that Jokull wore a matching one.

"That's why we need your help, Jokull," Vasil tried to plead again, but Jokull remained unmoved.

"I've already lost too many men to his onslaughts. I won't lose any more." Vasil sighed, finally realizing that Jokull would not help them.

"Can you at least give us passage to the border?" Vasil asked, and Jokull nodded yes. He stood and Vasil copied him. Jokull walked around the table, meeting Vasil at the end and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I truly am sorry," Jokull said, his face softening for a moment. "I wish I could help more." Vasil gave him a half smile, then walked past him to Clara. Clara smiled, trying to seem put together enough for Vasil. Vasil continued walking out of the hall, and just as Clara turned to leave as well, Jokull stopped her.

"Here," he held out his hand, gripping a knife tightly. The knife looked out of place with Jokull's white and blue, its handle a off-white bone, the sheath a blood red. Clara could see a sliver of black below the handle, the shine of the blade itself.

"If you find the Summer King, return his knife, will you?" Jokull asked, and Clara understood what he meant. She took the knife from Jokull and unsheathed it, revealing the delicate obsidian blade. She slid it back in, attaching the knife to her belt.

"I'll do my best," Clara promised, and Jokull gave her one last smile before he turned, and Clara ran out to catch up with Vasil.

"So is this Summer place hot?" Clara asked as she matched stride with Vasil. "I'm ready to get out of this cold." Vasil began to laugh, at first a collected sound that soon resulted in a bent in half breathless wail.

"You're right, let's get out of here," Vasil agreed, tears running down his face.

Jokull had two horses tacked and led out the front of the palace, and as Vasil and Clara approached, Clara slowed her stride. Vasil noticed him falling behind and stopped, turning to look at him.

"What's wrong?" Vasil asked, his head turned to Clara, slowly working his way down the stairs. Vasil took the reins for one of the horses, carefully petting the grey horse's neck.

"I've never ridden before," Clara confessed, still standing a few feet away.

"What do you mean, you rode yesterday. Twice," Vasil pointed out.

"Yes, but there was another person on the...animal with me!"

"It's easy," Vasil encouraged, swinging himself up onto the horse's back.

"Yeah, easy for someone that's ridden before," Clara muttered under his breath, walking forward to take the reins of his horse. "What's its name?" Vasil looked over as Clara struggled to get on.

"Uh, I don't know. I guess you can give him a name."

"I will name you..." Clara grunted as she finally righted himself. "...Bucky." Vasil looked back again with concern. "Can I name your horse too?" Clara asked, and before Vasil could answer, Clara continued. "His name is Gerald. Gerald Gregory."

"Please no," Vasil responded, not looking back, instead urging his horse on.

"Let's go Bucky," Clara clicked a few times, and her horse took off forward, following Gerald. Despite the snow they made good progress, and even though Clara had complained for a while, she soon got used to the movement of the horse, realizing that by relaxing just a little, she was much more comfortable. The snowy landscape seemed much prettier during the day, but she was still ready to get out of the cold. Clara had always liked the warmer weather anyways.

Clara began to notice the snow lessening, and just like that, the ground was bare, the trees green and lush. Vasil pulled up his horse, slowing to a walk as they entered into the thick of the trees. They both pushed back their hoods, and Vasil unshouldered his bow.

They continued, and Clara realized that she couldn't see the sun anymore. The air was hot and thick, but clouds filled the sky. The woods were quiet, unlike the Spring Kingdom, as if it was being stifled. As they kept going, the heat became oppressive, and Clara took her cloak off entirely, draping it across Bucky's back. Vasil stopped his horse, and Clara walked up to stand even as they looked out into a clearing with horror. The trees had been clearcut, and the very ground burned. The trees that remained were blackened sticks, and ash still fell from the air. Vasil stared out in dismay.

"Horrible," he muttered. "Why would he do such a thing?" Vasil's horse's ears suddenly swiveled back, and as Vasil turned to see what he heard, Clara watched his eyes widen. "Go!" He screamed. "Run!" Clara looked back and wished that she hadn't, urging her own horse forward. What looked like two men, each holding thick swords, running up behind them. Except their heads were all wrong. Instead of normal human heads, they had what Clara could only guess were bull heads. As they galloped out into the clearing, Clara looked back again, and suddenly felt herself get pulled out of the tack, Bucky falling down with her.

"Clara!" Vasil screamed, quickly turning his own horse around. Clara struggled as she lay winded on the ground, realizing what had happened. She was in a net. Clara tried to right herself, but the net seemed to be entangled around every part of his body, and she could only lay helpless as Vasil galloped towards him, arrow drawn, and the two bull-men quickly gaining from the other side. The knife. She tried to reach for it, but her hands were tangled. She managed to unsheath it as she looked up, the first bull-man raising his sword over Clara's head.

I'm dead.