Closed Longer Lullabies

[Solemn Warborn]

Hiberna’s grip was firm as she pulled him up next to the fire. When she set her mind to something, she was unstoppable and fierce about completing what she wanted. Knocking the wood from his hands, she tossed two pieces on to the fire and sat him down in front of it. With the vicious determination she put toward all things, she began to pull off his mittens and gloves, and soon as those were off, she held his hands between hers and shoved them as close to the fire as she could without burning the both of them. For his part, Solemn didn’t care. The numbing seemed to have cut out all sensation, that of feeling as well as that of the reaching of his tattered bond. At the moment, he could feel neither. “Gods, Solemn!” she chastised him. “Never again will you stay out that long. Never again. Your hands are like ice.” “I can’t feel them,” Solemn argued. Her eyes flashed from deep purple to harsh red, if only for a moment. “I’m being serious. You’re lucky they didn’t start turning blue. Or black. Never again. Understand?” He knew the only way to get around this was to nod, so he did. “I’m sorry.” “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to be careful.” Her eyes burned yellow at this. “I will be.” She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him while her eyes flashed red once more. “I also don’t want lies.” He didn’t respond. Silence was the wisest choice. With his silent affirmation, she continued on, removing his cold clothes one piece after another. Once he was down to only his underwear, she scooted him as close to the fire as she could get and hugged him from behind. Once again, she took both of his hands between hers and rubbed them, trying desperately to bring some life and warmth back to his frozen limbs. Katrinaria did her part to help by bringing an oversized cloak and draping it over the two of them. Warmth began to claw its way to the farthest reaches of his body, first as an irritating tingle, then as a dull burning, and finally as a stabbing agony. The pain wasn’t the worst part though. No. The worst was the returning of his searching bond. When it finally became aware of itself, it found Hiberna in all directions and tried to reach in all of them. Her hands were in front of him with his own; her elbows, around his sides; and the rest of her, at his back. It felt as if he was being torn apart, and the feeling was sickening. Letting his eyes wander to either side, he tried to distract himself from the unpleasantness by watching the others go to work. Everyone was being industrious, doing their best to contribute to the whole group’s comfort, well-being, and survival. Several were slowly moving the wood he had gathered and stacking it piece by piece next to the fire. As cold as they were, they would take some time to catch fire, as was evidenced by the two pieces Hiberna had put on. Fortunately, Avanthal was so cold that the snow that fell never had the chance to melt. The firewood wouldn’t need to dry out, just warm up. Solemn’s longer-than-average arms could hold quite a load, and the three he had brought in were keeping four of his roommates busy. Three others had put themselves in charge of clearing the snow out of the entry to the Hall, so the warmth of the fire and their bodies wouldn’t melt it. But Hiberna would not let herself be forgotten. She hugged him a little tighter, bringing more warmth and pain to his body. “You know, Solemn,” she whispered, “fainting is a cheap way to get out of answering a question.” “I wasn’t trying to avoid it.” “You weren’t?” Solemn shook his head. There was a pause, and he thought his answer had satisfied her. Hiberna’s whisper came in his ear. “Then, how long, Solemn?” Solemn knew what she meant. What Hiberna wanted to know was how long he had been coming to see her without her knowing. He hesitated but knew he couldn’t avoid answering her. “Two years.” He wasn’t sure if it was better or not that he couldn’t see her eyes. Maybe it was best not to know what color they were. As he stared at the fire, he imagined her eyes burning a red deeper than any the flames could make. When her arms tightened around him, he couldn’t be sure if it was a gentle gesture or one of anger. She whispered again. This conversation was only meant for the two of them. “How often?” “At least one every fortnight. Usually more.” Hiberna sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Solemn tried the truth. “I thought I wouldn’t be welcome.” There was silence at this. Maybe that meant he was right. Not knowing what to do, Solemn focused on the spit and crackle of the burning wood. “I’m sorry, Solemn.” There was sorrow in her voice. Solemn was too used to the way she had been when they were younger. He had been expecting something different. Rage, maybe. “I guess I made it seem that way. Let me know next time. I want to know.” That much Solemn knew. He just didn’t know if she would let him stay once she knew.

[Solemn Warborn]

Fierce and sudden, the wind outside worsened, if that was even possible. This time, something in the structure did crack. Solemn knew, because dust made of timber or shingle or something drifted toward the floor as Katrinaria screamed again along with several of the younger inhabitants of the Hall. She ran to Hiberna’s side as the howling wind increased in volume, but Hiberna refused to let go of Solemn to comfort the girl. “The wind’s scaring me, Hib.” “It’s nothing to be afraid of,” Hiberna told the younger Vantha. “It’s just the wind, and it’s as scared as you are. And lonesome. It’s singing, hoping its song will bring a friend.” Katrinaria clutched Hiberna’s arm through the cloak and pulled close. “It doesn’t sound like a song.” Solemn could practically feel Hiberna smile as she responded. “Of course it is. It’s just missing a part.” “Missing a part?” Katrinaria didn’t understand. “What could it possibly be missing? It’s the wind. It’s not a part of anything.” “Listen, Katrinaria.” Hiberna closed her eyes and tipped her head forward, resting it against the back of Solemn’s. There was silence, except for the howling of the wind while everyone who had heard the conversation tried to hear what Hiberna was talking about. It began quietly, more quietly than the silence, in fact. This was where Hiberna’s voice was in its element, in its softness. When she first started to hum, her voice was so soft people didn’t notice it; all they noticed was the change. So softly, it began like the sound of flakes in a gently falling snow, as if she willed her thoughts into sound before she ever used her voice. Solemn, as he was sitting right in front of her, was the first of them all to notice the change and hear her voice. While his proximity helped, it was his familiarity with Hiberna’s voice that truly allowed him to catch her song as it began. He knew her voice better than anyone besides herself. As she moved fluidly into the song, Solemn realized it wasn’t any song he had heard before. It seemed slightly higher in her range than she would normally be comfortable with, but he quickly caught on that this was for the sake of harmonizing with the wind. Her melody danced elegantly around the howling harmony outside. The volume slowly increased until everyone was allowed to enjoy the song. She continued through several verses of the song, leaving out the words. “How could you hear that in nothing but the wind?” Katrinaria was stunned. She wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the Hall was staring at her in amazement, a few in pride. Solemn himself wasn’t amazed. He knew his sister was capable of even more. But he was proud. Hiberna shrugged, her arms still wrapped around Solemn. “It’s what I love. I notice song in everything, in the way people talk, in the crackle of a fire, in the crunch of snow beneath my feet. In all of it, there is music. I wouldn’t expect you to hear things the way I do, just as I’m sure there are ways you see the world that I never could. It doesn’t matter, though, whether or not you heard the song. You know now. Give it a try.” “I can’t just pick up a harmony and invent a song like you,” Katrinaria complained. “I didn’t just invent that song.” Hiberna hugged Solemn a little tighter. “As far as the harmony goes, it’s easier than you think. Here. Solemn can show you how.” “I don’t feel like singing.” Solemn didn’t like being the focus of everyone’s attention. Not to mention, most people here were more skilled musically than he was. “Don’t be a poor sport,” Hiberna begged. “Just for a little. Besides, singing will help warm you up.” “Fine.” It was difficult for Solemn to deny her anything she asked for. “Good.” Hiberna directed her focus to anyone who wanted to learn. “The first thing you need to know when harmonizing is what you are harmonizing to. You have to match the tone. Solemn, if you would.” Taking a moment to listen to the notes the wind was making, Solemn san a wordless note, a simple “la” that he tried to match to the wordless tone of the storm. He didn’t begin on the right one and had to slide up until his voice and nature’s matched each other. He held the note as Hiberna went on with the lesson. “Once you have the note, drop or raise a third from that.” “A third?” Katrinaria asked. She was one of the few in the Hall, if not the only one, who didn’t understand. Everyone else was a Snowsong and musically trained. They understood such concepts. “Thirds and fifths. They’re distances between notes.” She demonstrated with three quick la’s. Solemn had to stop singing in order to take a breath. As soon as he had a lungful of air again, he started back up. This time the note was familiar, and he matched it right away. Hiberna instructed him to move on. “Go ahead and raise a third, Solemn.” Thirds and fifths and simple harmonies were something Hiberna had taught him well enough. He did as she asked, and when Solemn looked over at Katrinaria, she was giving him the same look amazement she had given Hiberna. “That was amazing, Sol.” “It’s easier than you think,” he encouraged. “Go ahead and give it a try.” The lesson was quickly over as everybody set about to trying to harmonize with the deadly weather outside.

[Solemn Warborn]

Hiberna turned her head sideways and rested it against Solemn’s shoulder, watching everyone else as they practiced. “That’s a wise way to make something that’s scary a little less so,” Solemn complimented his sister. She shrugged. “It’s a nice distraction.” “From what?” “The heat. This cloak is stifling.” Solemn made to move, but Hiberna’s arms tightened around him, preventing him from standing. “Hiberna,” he tried to reason, “you don’t have to stay. I’m warm enough. I’ll be fine.” “What did I say about lies?” In all honesty, Solemn wouldn’t’ve complained either way. When her body was pressed against him, he was warmed from both sides, but her presence also brought the familiar pain of the absence of their complete bond, the sensation of grasping in the darkness. She stayed, as he figured she would. Not until she was convinced he was warm, several bells later, did she let him go. As he watched her stoke the fire, he realized the front of her shirt was soaked with sweat, the result of her sharing her warmth with him. The day continued on rather dully. Interest in harmonizing with the wind quickly waned, and over the day, everyone munched on half a dog biscuit and the remainder of the fruit. It was a meager meal, but it was what they had, if they meant to make it last. For the remainder of the day, Solemn stayed close to the fire. The fierce pain had faded but had been replaced by a dull ache. Hiberna had checked the tips of his fingers, his toes, his nose, and his ears for any sign of frostbite but had declared him safe from any permanent effects, after a long lecture about his recklessness, of course. The day wound down, and yawns began to announce the approach of night. Everyone gathered around the fire and gathered whatever material they were going to use for bedding. No one begrudged Solemn the cloak he had. As Solemn was about to fall asleep, he heard two voices whispering. Turning away from the fire, he saw it was Hib and Katrinaria. The young Frostfawn had stayed close to the one of the few people here she knew well. That, and Hiberna exuded what bravery she neededto face the every worsening howl of the wind. “I’m still scared, Hib.” “It’ll be alright.” “Will you sing a lullaby?” “Anytime you want, Kat. Do you have a particular one in mind?” “Whatever you want to sing.” “Hmm.” Hiberna pondered the choice for a few short moments, then brightened. “How about one I made up?” “Ooh. A Hiberna original. Aren’t I the lucky one?” Hiberna shoved Katrinaria playfully. “Shut up.” The two giggled. “Really though, Hib, I do want to hear it.” “Alright then. Shut your eyes.” Hiberna began her song, though she didn’t sing as soft as she usually did. She made certain her voice was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the Hall. Sun has set. Long night has settled in the North, and though there is still light, there is no more warmth. Syna won’t shine all summer long. Darkness tried to claim this season, but light proved it wrong. Solemn smiled at this. He knew what this verse pertained to. They were living in it right now. The Endless Night. The Long Dark. A sunless time that spanned half the season. It was smile worthy. Not to mention, the melody was beautiful. Katrinaria interrupted Hiberna. “You’re singing louder than usual, Hib.” “That’s because this song wasn’t meant for you. Now shut up and go to sleep.” “I am.” Hiberna went on. Cold light. Cold light. Leth lights the endless night. He is lord of all when night finally falls. Wax and wane, cold light. You will ever change. Throughout the night, you’ll never stay the same. Cold lights. Cold lights. sparkle in the sky seen only at night to let us know our eyes can still see the lights that Zintila placed. They have no might, but they still have grace. The moon and the stars, these verses. Leth, lord of night, and Zintila, lady of the constellations. The darkness made both these lights more evident, but they were lights the whole world shared. Dancing light. Cold light shifting in the night. Aurora shows her spite for pale, uncolored light. Shattered skies fall free and scatter to the earth. Dance and sing of color’s fragile birth. Now this verse made the song familiar to the North, personal in a way those other lights never could. Solemn had seen the Aurora only days before and had watched it curiously for hours, as if it would speak to him. It had not, but he somehow felt better for the wondering. As much as he wanted to listen to all of Hiberna’s song, his Vantha sister’s voice did its job well. He could feel the exhaustion of the day building and threatening to force his eyes shut, and the gentle lulling of Hib’s voice only made the feeling stronger. It was an effort to stay awake to listen to the next verse. But I, oh I, sigh softer than the sky, softer than the snow falling in the night. Oh I, oh I am warmer than the fire, but I lost my hope. I lost my light. Solemn shifted and woke up as this verse unfolded. There was sorrow in this verse, and it was very personal. The “I” in the song was not just some vague narrator. It was Hiberna herself. Desperately, Solemn wished there was something he could do to comfort her, but as a little brother, he was powerless. Cold light of mine I lost you long ago. I wish we had more time before you had to go. Warmth and light when separated fade. That’s why we must fight to hold on to what we made. A twinge of jealousy shot through Solemn. He didn’t know who this light of Hiberna’s was, but she was his sister. Waiting for the next verse, he hoped its contents would reveal the person’s identity. Hold tight. Hold tight. You and I have lost each other, and now I must face the cost. Hush now. Don’t cry. I’ve been searching everywhere for you my light. I will find you in my prayers. Solemn was shocked. He was the person in question. Hush now. Don’t cry. She had said that to him the day they first met, the day she had claimed him as her little brother, the day their bond had first formed. She saw him as a light of hope for her, and what was more was that she was searching for him. Not in a literal sense as if he were lost, but she was searching for the connection that had once bound them so close. Past the tears forming in his eyes, Solemn saw that Hiberna’s lullaby had done its job as it came to its obvious end. Katrinaria was asleep. Before Hib could see his watery eyes, Solemn ducked his head into his chest and fell asleep to the sensation of his bond reaching out for her more desperately than it ever had before. One question remained: if they both wanted to reunite, why hadn’t their bond reformed when they had come together?

[Solemn Warborn]

Summer, the 53rd, 516 AV When Solemn woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that all the pain in his body had finally subsided. The next thing he noticed was the smell. Being part animal, the smell didn’t bother him, but judging by the looks on everyone else’s faces, it bothered them. It was a mixed smell of all the worst ones people could create, or at least some of them. Since no one had bathed in several days, the body odor was pungent. Anyone who had hit puberty was producing a smell they all found unpleasant, all but Solemn. It was a natural smell, human’s animalistic scent, so his animal nature found a comfort with it. There were only three among them who were young enough that they weren’t adding to this combined assault to the senses. Not to mention, the close quarters and the heat of the fire had everyone sweating even more than usual. That wasn’t the worst of the smells though. No, the worst was the urine and the shit. Though they had kept the doors at the end of the hall closed, there was enough waste that its smells made it through the door and flooded the room they had been in. Solemn was just glad he wasn’t contributing to the smell at all, not for his own sake but for the comfort of everyone else. His sloth tendencies meant he hadn’t added to the waste buckets and had also prevented him from giving off any body odor. As a sloth, his hair allowed algae to grow on it, and his human form shared this trait. The algal growth gave him a subtle but pleasant earthy smell, a woodsy scent that it seemed was natural for a creature of the forest to have. To him, though, it didn’t matter that he didn’t add to the smell. It was making others uncomfortable, and something had to be done about it. As the stable hand, he was the best suited for the job. He handled animal waste on a daily basis, so taking care of their waste problem was no different than his regular job. Before they took care of that though, their supply of water would need to be replenished. The buckets were both mostly empty. Though he had filled them, they had been filled with snow. Once they had melted, they were only about a quarter full. When everyone had woke up that morning, they had polished off what little water had remained from the day before. So once again, Solemn stood at the door with two buckets in hand, every article of clothing wrapped about him, and the rope tied around his waist. He nodded to those by the door and closed his eyes. As soon as the door opened, he knew it. Through the thick, warm material of his clothing, he could feel the frosty bite of the storm. Stepping forward as he had done before, Solemn made his way straight out into the snow to where he had first drawn water from the well of the storm. Packing both buckets with snow before his hands could go numb, he jerked the rope twice and followed its pull back into the Hall entryway. Leaving the water buckets by the fire, Solemn made his down to the end of the Hall to the two closed rooms. Combined into one overwhelming smell as there wasn’t the usual bedding material to dampen it, urine and feces flooded his senses as he opened one of the doors. Solemn was certain it would flood the entryway as well, but there was no avoiding that. He would be walking straight through the there with the buckets to empty them. Retrieving the second bucket, he made his way back to the door, assuring as he did that he had not wrapped the rope around any obstacles. Not even pausing to prepare himself, Solemn nodded to everyone by the door as he approached. More ready to be rid of the smell than he was, they flung the door open for him. Only a gust of wind caused him to break his stride but only for an instant, and then he was out in the immeasurable black. This time, rather than head straight out toward where he drew water from or to the right where the firewood was, he went to the left, always keeping the wall against his shoulder. He moved slowly, carefully, so as not to spill any of the buckets’ contents on himself. When he reached the corner (he only knew he had because he had been leaning too heavily against the wall and almost fell over when it disappeared from his side), he stopped and set one bucket down. Grabbing the other bucket with both hands, he tossed its contents away from the building. Scooping up a bucketful of snow, he tossed the contents out again, repeating this several times to be sure the bucket was cleaned out. He performed the same task with the other one, picked them both up, tugged twice on the rope, and made his way back inside. Briefly, he inspected the buckets in the light of the fire before returning them to their rooms.

[Solemn Warborn]

The rest of his new roommates treated him like a conquering hero returning home when he made his way back to the entryway. He received everyone’s thanks, but their exuberance was dulled by the lethargy of hunger. A mere half a dog biscuit and a meager slice of fruit was not enough to sustain a person, not for a day and definitely not for the long run, but it was what they had. If this storm didn’t let up, they’d have to do with a whole lot less. Today, to add to their half biscuit ration, Solemn split up the hunk of cheese he had swiped from the Stables the morning he had come to the Hall. Though it wasn’t much more than a nibble, it was something to add flavor to the tasteless remainder of the meal. The dog biscuits had less taste than stale bread. Once everyone had their daily ration, they all gathered around the fire, some sitting closer to or farther from it depending on how many marks they had from the blessed Goddess, but one thing was obvious. Nobody was not near the fire. Even those fortunate to have two marks from Queen Morwen were not unaffected by this storm. Everyone was cold, and the fire and proximity to other bodies were both the best ways to stay warm at the moment. So everyone stayed gathered together around the fire, slowly munching on their food. It was tempting to just eat it all at once, but Solemn knew that would do no good. As soon as it was gone, he’d just be hungry again, so he at least allowed himself to savor the idea of eating. Hunger would always be there. Food would not. Eventually though, his meal did end, and he was forced to face hunger nearly as quickly as those who had scarfed theirs down. This meal did little to actually fill them. The lethargy of hunger weighed heavily on everyone, and its weight only built as the day went on. No one was enthusiastic to do anything. Fortunately, the stockpile of wood was still plenty to last them well into the next day, at the very least, so no one had to go out to fetch more. Smiling at the fire, Solemn was happy for that much. He knew that as the youngest, most adult male present it would be expected that he would be the one to do so. One day of not stepping out into that cold would do him some good. He wished now that he was Vantha and Morwen marked.

[Solemn Warborn]

As the day came to its close, only indicated by everyone’s increasing sleepiness, the group let the fire burn a little lower, and conversations dwindled to whispers. Solemn drew even nearer to the fire, and Hiberna and Katrinaria sat behind him on the cloak he had laid out for a bed. Quiet and dancing in the way the Vantha tongue always seemed to do, the words tripped and skipped between the two as they kept a lengthy conversation deep into the night. Solemn closed his eyes and did his best to ignore them, though the frequent bursts of giggling made that difficult. Still, he tried, especially as the conversation turned toward matters he thought the two Vantha might consider more private. It was Katrinaria who broached the subject. “You’re in danger of becoming an Icemaiden, Hiberna.” “Not really.” Solemn felt a slight shift and assumed it was a shrug. “Mom and Dad have been pushing plenty of men my way.” “And?” “And what?” Solemn was sure Katrinaria’s eyes were dancing between colors now. “Do any of them strike your fancy?” Solemn had to admit he was just as curious as Katrinaria, if not more so. If there was someone who had caught Hiberna’s eye, Solemn wanted to know. Though he had no say in her life, he still would want to know whether or not he approved of whatever man came into her life. “No,” Hiberna answered, “though there is a man who recently sparked my attention.” Her attention peeked, Katrinaria sat up. “Oh, really? Is it anybody I know?” “He’s a part of your Hold.” “Really?” There was a pause as Katrinaria pondered the mystery. Then, she dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Is it Solemn?” It was hard for Solemn not to react to that, and Hiberna had a similar response. “Ew. Gross. Kat, you pervert. He’s my brother. How could you even suggest that?” Katrinaria shrugged. “Absence makes the heart fonder?” Hiberna laughed and shook her head. “It almost sounds like you want to know if he’s available. Are you interested in my brother?” “Hiberna!” Katrinaria acted shocked at the suggestion. “How perverted do you think I am? He’s way too young for me. I’m nearly a half decade his elder. He’s only six.” They both giggled at this. Solemn might have been a half decade younger than Katrinaria, but he was a full grown adult while Katrinaria was only just beginning to mature. There was an advantage to being Kelvic. He didn’t have to wait to grow up the way everyone else did. “So who is the mystery man?” “If it works out, I’ll let you know.” The subject of the conversation took a turn from there to much less interesting matters, and eventually, the two grew too tired to continue. All three fell asleep together after Hiberna threw a few logs on the fire. The crackle of burning wood made its own gentle lullaby.

[Solemn Warborn]

Summer, the 54th, 516 AV Solemn found himself in front of the door again the following morning. He had already been out twice, very briefly, to empty the waste buckets and refill the water ones. Now, he was on the final duty, firewood collection. With the ever-increasing severity of the storm, extra warmth had been needed, and the fire was the only source they had. They had burned through all their fuel that night. When someone had thrown the last log on the fire, Solemn had been told and been asked to retrieve more. Too stubborn or too dumb or too something to say no, Solemn found himself standing in front of the door to that same storm they were trying to shelter themselves from. There was a nod, a flash of white, and the barreling of wind past him as he pulled himself through the door. Then, there was nothing. Nothing but the infinite cold. Even the light here was gone. It was just cold and dark. Empty. Letting the wall support most of his weight, he let his steadiness tell him it was still there as he knew his hands would soon go numb. The snow drifting against the Hall had gathered enough now to create a waist-high barrier he had to wade through. Step by step, he stumbled slowly toward the wood pile as his feet went numb, though they numbed less rapidly than his hands. Being buried in the snow afforded them a small protection from the most lethal part of the storm: the wind. This walk took great physical effort now. Every step, he had to consciously drive his foot and leg through the snow, and the plowing motion of every step caused more snow to build up in front of him, making each subsequent step even more difficult. There was still a small amount of feeling in his foot when it bumped into the wood pile hidden in the dark and beneath the snow. Laboriously, he set to the task of unburying the firewood, a task made even more difficult by the continuously blowing snow that tried to rebury the wood with every bit he moved away. By the time he reached the treasured fuel, his shoulders burned with the effort, and Solemn’s shoulders did not tire easily. Filling his arms with a load of wood, he turned around, tugged the rope twice, and, using the wall for support, stumbled back through his quickly filling tracks to where he dumped the wood in the doorway and turned back for a second load. This trip was easier than the last as he had already forged a path through the snow. With one arm on the wall, he could gauge how far his tracks were from the building. Like a pack of wolves closing in for the kill, the wind worsened, vicious gusts trying to throw him off balance. When his feet slammed into the woodpile again, they barely had any feeling left. Gathering another armful of wood, Solemn made his way back to the door, leaving the wood there as he went out for one last trip. The last couple hadn’t taken near as long as his trips when he had first come out to gather wood. He had time before the effects of the cold got really bad. Ever-worsening, the gusts of wind threatened to shove him off balance, but through his steadfastness and by keeping a cautious hand on the wall, he kept his feet beneath him. There was a lull in the gusts, and for a moment, the air around him was still. For just that moment, Solemn let his guard down. He should have trusted his ears. Though the air around him was still, a building howl was fast approaching. His arm relaxed and dropped slightly just before the wind came. Stronger than any before, a gust cannoned Solemn sideways into the wall with enough force that he bounced off of it. His mind panicked. If he had been smart, he would have just taken the fall, but his mind wasn’t in a thinking state. Stumbling and trying to keep his balance, the young man unwittingly put more distance between himself and the building. There was a sudden force trying to pull him backwards as he reached the end of the line that was tied about him, and then in an instant, it was gone. The sudden change of momentum proved too difficult for Solemn to maintain his balance, and there was the sickening pull of gravity as he tumbled head over heels and ended up in a heap face down in the snow. Cursing in his mind, he pushed himself up on to his feet and grabbed the rope. He made to jerk the rope twice, but on the first pull, he met no resistance. Confused, he pulled again, and once more, there was no resistance at the other end. Drawing the rope toward him, a sinking feeling struck him as the frayed end of the rope pulled through his gloves. His safety line had snapped. He was lost. There was no way those in the Hall could pull him back in, and in the pitch black of the Endless Night, Solemn couldn’t find his way back. With the stumbling and the tumble he had taken, he had lost his sense of direction, and out away from the wall, the wind seemed to be coming at him from every direction. It would give him no help figuring out where he was. He cursed, aloud this time, but his voice never reached his ears. The wind smothered it. There was no doubt about it. He was lost.

[Solemn Warborn]

Solemn was lost, and the cruel weather of the storm was going to do nothing to help him. In fact, if he stayed out much longer, it would kill him. The fierceness of the wind out away from the wall was biting his skin through his thick parka, and whatever hadn’t grown numb already was quickly getting there. There was one thought going through his mind, and that was that he needed to get out of the wind. His first instinct was to drop low to the ground, but even there, the wind still more present than he wanted it to be. With the danger of the cold and its uncaring will to kill him, he had to do something quickly. Scooping the snow at his feet toward himself, he crafted a small hole in the ground and scurried inside, huddling in on himself while hugging his knees to his chest. The smaller he made himself, the less heat he’d lose, and at the moment, it was his most precious resource, one that was dwindling far too fast. Here, in his little foxhole, the wind’s rage was cut immensely, but this was the most impressive wind Solemn had ever encountered. Even with its edge taken away, it was still worse than any regular wind he had ever known. Against the bitter cold, his body shivered, trying desperately to produce a little warmth, but it did him no good. His muscles fatigued rapidly, and the shivering died almost as soon as it started. The numbness spreading across his body was only accented by the complete lack of any sensation in his vision. It seemed as if every sense was slowly being robbed by the Endless Night. If only it wasn’t night, he wouldn’t be stuck in this endless black. He quickly realized the folly of that thinking. Even in the bright day of some other season, all he would be able to see would be an eternal white wherever he would turn his gaze. Solemn would have been lost regardless. He laughed at that thought, delirious as his body began to grow too cold. Somewhere in his delirium, as he beat his hands against his knees to see if either still had any feeling, Solemn still held to hope, because not far away, his sister was sure to be looking for him. A small bit of him hoped she wouldn’t. Chances were she’d only end up stuck out here with him for her efforts. Regardless of his concern though, he still held to that hope.

[Solemn Warborn]

Hunkering down in his hole, Solemn tried to make himself even smaller, as if he might escape the notice of the cold and the storm, but it did him little good. The cold was ever-present, and there was no hollow, apart from the insulated indoors, untouched by it. The cold was spreading up his shoulders, followed by pain which was, in turn, followed by numbness. The numbness was up to his wrists and ankles now. Though it felt as if he’d been out in the middle of the snow for a bell, it had only been a mere chime. Still, his body was quickly shutting down, and if he didn’t get out of the storm soon, Solemn knew he would die. Though he knew this, he knew trying to find his way out of it would likely only get him killed. He only had one chance to choose the right direction, and if his choice was wrong, it wouldn’t help anyone inside rescue him. So he waited, wondering what would happen first, being found or dying. Just as his hope began to flicker along with the feeling past his elbow, something changed. It wasn’t a physical change. The wind still howled as fiercely as it had before, and the cold air got no warmer. Whirling about in hectic patterns, the snow that fell neither let up nor thickened. The storm remained unchanged. But Solemn felt something. It was a feeling stronger than any physical one, faint at first, so faint that he thought it wasn’t real, but it continued to grow but so slowly he still didn’t believe it was real. Then, it strengthened suddenly and caused him to gasp with the discomfort that came with it. His bond! It sensed its other half and was striving desperately to reach it. A warmth spread from his heart, not a physical one, but the warmth of hope and love. Hiberna was searching for him. He tried to stand up to make himself easier to find, but with the ends of his legs feeling like stubs, he couldn’t really tell what the result was. Perhaps he was standing. Maybe he was just sitting up. He yelled, but the wind smothered his shout, making it as useless the hands he was waving about to try to get her attention. His shout never reached his own ears, and Solemn couldn’t be sure if he had made any sound at all. Then, the reach of the bond weakened, and Solemn’s heart fell. He didn’t know whether it meant Hiberna had gone the wrong way or if it meant that something terrible had happened to her. Still, he could do nothing but wait, and the waiting was insufferable. Each moment that passed brought a new thought of what went wrong, but the cold stifled those thoughts the same way it tried to smother him. Each moment brought more cold and less hope. And he waited. Then, what he was waiting for happened. The tugging of the bond, an uncomfortable and brief tightness in his chest, strengthened again and continued to do so rapidly. It made it difficult to breathe, and breathing seemed to be about the only thing he could manage to do to keep himself alive at the moment. But it meant Hiberna was coming for him, and that was enough. She practically fell over him when she found him, and Solemn ended up half wrapped up in the rope that was tied around her waist. Not so much aware of her touch but feeling the motion of ascending, Solemn attempted to use his legs to help Hiberna lift him up, but judging by the way she bodily threw him about, he was pretty sure he wasn’t helping. There was a motion in his shoulder which he assumed was Hiberna putting his arm over her shoulders. Then she must have tugged the rope twice, because she started walking in what he could only assume was the right direction. The journey back couldn’t have been more than a chime, but it took too long. Every step was laborious, Solemn unsure of where to place his feet, unsure if he even had any left. Several times, he stumbled, dragging them both face first into the snow, but Hiberna was stronger than he imagined. Each time, she pulled him back up to his feet and started them walking again. And suddenly, there was light as they fell through the doorinto the Hall. Nobody wasted any time. Before Solemn or Hiberna had a chance to act, somebody was untying the rope from around Hiberna’s waist while two others were pulling Solemn toward the fire. No one worried about conserving the wood. They piled the fire high to make sure there would be plenty of flames to warm him by. Solemn was barely aware of what was happening as his cold clothes were pulled off him, a warm cloak was thrown over him, and his hands and feet were pushed close to the fire. What he was aware of was the pull of his bond as Hiberna hugged him from behind and the warmth of her voice, though it would take him a while for feeling to return to feel the warmth of her body.