HEEEEEEEEEEEEREEE'S MEEE!!
Here I have a one-shot I wrote recently after re-reading Catherine Fisher's excellent novel "Snow-Walker," a book I believe was originally meant to be a trilogy and was then condensed into a novel which I heartily recommend. As I doubt any of my dear friends have read it, I strongly urge you to do so and to read and review my one-shot anyway.
Kari is the name of a guy; he and Jessa are the main characters. Brochael, Hakon, Skapti, and Wulfgar are supporting characters. Brochael and Hakon are warriors, Skapti a bard, and Wulfgar the "Jarl," basically the lord. At the end of Snow-Walker, none of the characters are dead and Hakon, Jessa, and Kari are under 20, and Skapti, Wulfgar, and Brochael are middle-aged, though their certain ages are never specified. Gudrun is the main antagonist, and Signi is an entirely minor character and is Wulfgar's wife in the third section of the book.
As years passed, Jessa grew accustomed to arriving in Kari's tower to find that his soul was travelling, or that when she went to his room to fetch him for a feast, he was gone and the fire war burning in strange characters with images teasing at her eyes and vanishing before she could make them out. If Kari grew colder and more remote as time went by, she burned warmer to compensate. With Brochael dead years ago, she understood him best of anyone.
So many people gone, slipping away as time went by. Hakon died in a small rebellion to the south-- a fate viewed bitterly in the Jarlshold. Too minor a death for such a great warrior, though his sword still hung in the great hall. Two years before his death, he had laughted off a teasing question from Skapti on when he would start courting Jessa. "Couldn't," he said, with more confidence than a recently freed thrall in the lands of ice had ever shown. "She loves him too much." The skald was surprised; he glanced curiously at where Kari and Jessa played chess. Kari's silver hair obscured his colorless eyes as an unusual smile creased his face, and Jessa's brown plait whipped around as she berated Wulfgar for the idle comment that had caused Kari his uncommon amusement. "I don't know if it's... a romantic attachment, but she does love him more than anyone else, and she understands him like none of us can." Hakon shifted to a more comfortable position and a slight sorrow touched his smile. "He probably needs that more than I do, anyway."
Jessa wanndered the hallways of Jarlshold, searching for him and hoping no one had attacked him. Strange that while many who had known the witch Gudrun and seen her icy darkness were dead or aging, there were still those who despised his sorcery. Jessa's lips curled into a wry smile. Rumors and stories long outlived truths, and those who saw Kari stared or watched him from the corners of their eyes suspiciously. She paused in the hall to glance sadly at the hearth where Skapti had so often sung or simply made acerbic comments to tease Hakon, or poke fun at Brochael's increasing age. He'd written no more songs since he used his first harp for kindling, and no great events had turned up for him to regret his choice when he stayed in the Jarlshold. He died a peaceful death.
Wulfgar hailed her as she stepped out into a courtyard, shading her eyes and blinking against the glare of sunlight on snow. She waved back to the Jarl, whose hair had frosted over as he aged, father of three sons and a daughter. Signi, wrapped in fur, smiled at her. age had turned a face that shone with the fresh-faced beauty of youth into even her forties into a softer, more worn beauty. Hair that glinted still with the shine of faded gold was plaited and pinned up in coils under her hood.
She opened a gate and looked out. In the distance, she could see a figure. Kari stood in the snow, his ravens flying around him. She crossed over the snow towards him. The red-beared giant who had been the strongest warrior and cared for Kari all his life had died in a battle he could never win. He dropped ill in the same place where Kari stood now, and none of Kari's sorcery could cure him, despite its ever-increasing power. "Don't worry, Kari,," he said gruffly, looking at the boy whose strong grief and anger seemed unnatural on his pale face. "It's not what your power is meant for." Jessa and Kari had reversed roles for once; Kari cried like a baby when Brochael died, and Jessa had clutched his shoulder, dry-eyed.
He turned to her long before he would have been able to hear her footsteps, his face impassive and smooth as ice, cold and identical to Gudrun's. She stepped up to him and gripped his arm. He took the consolation without expression and looked north to where the land of the White People lay, the home of the witch, Kari's reflection, who haunted him even after he and their small party had locked her soul in crystal and given it to the wolf-man to hide.
"All gone but one," he said, turning to her.
"One will be enough," she said fiercely. "I'll always be there, you won't lose us all."
"Why did you come out here?"
"I was looking for you. It's been years since you came here."
He turned away, restless. "I'm a Snow-Walker. The White People are calling to me."
She caught his hands. "I'm watching you, to make sure you don't become like her. I'll hold you hear."
He turned slightly, the profile of his pale face almost lost against the snow.
"I'll hold you to yourself."
Kari is the name of a guy; he and Jessa are the main characters. Brochael, Hakon, Skapti, and Wulfgar are supporting characters. Brochael and Hakon are warriors, Skapti a bard, and Wulfgar the "Jarl," basically the lord. At the end of Snow-Walker, none of the characters are dead and Hakon, Jessa, and Kari are under 20, and Skapti, Wulfgar, and Brochael are middle-aged, though their certain ages are never specified. Gudrun is the main antagonist, and Signi is an entirely minor character and is Wulfgar's wife in the third section of the book.
As years passed, Jessa grew accustomed to arriving in Kari's tower to find that his soul was travelling, or that when she went to his room to fetch him for a feast, he was gone and the fire war burning in strange characters with images teasing at her eyes and vanishing before she could make them out. If Kari grew colder and more remote as time went by, she burned warmer to compensate. With Brochael dead years ago, she understood him best of anyone.
So many people gone, slipping away as time went by. Hakon died in a small rebellion to the south-- a fate viewed bitterly in the Jarlshold. Too minor a death for such a great warrior, though his sword still hung in the great hall. Two years before his death, he had laughted off a teasing question from Skapti on when he would start courting Jessa. "Couldn't," he said, with more confidence than a recently freed thrall in the lands of ice had ever shown. "She loves him too much." The skald was surprised; he glanced curiously at where Kari and Jessa played chess. Kari's silver hair obscured his colorless eyes as an unusual smile creased his face, and Jessa's brown plait whipped around as she berated Wulfgar for the idle comment that had caused Kari his uncommon amusement. "I don't know if it's... a romantic attachment, but she does love him more than anyone else, and she understands him like none of us can." Hakon shifted to a more comfortable position and a slight sorrow touched his smile. "He probably needs that more than I do, anyway."
Jessa wanndered the hallways of Jarlshold, searching for him and hoping no one had attacked him. Strange that while many who had known the witch Gudrun and seen her icy darkness were dead or aging, there were still those who despised his sorcery. Jessa's lips curled into a wry smile. Rumors and stories long outlived truths, and those who saw Kari stared or watched him from the corners of their eyes suspiciously. She paused in the hall to glance sadly at the hearth where Skapti had so often sung or simply made acerbic comments to tease Hakon, or poke fun at Brochael's increasing age. He'd written no more songs since he used his first harp for kindling, and no great events had turned up for him to regret his choice when he stayed in the Jarlshold. He died a peaceful death.
Wulfgar hailed her as she stepped out into a courtyard, shading her eyes and blinking against the glare of sunlight on snow. She waved back to the Jarl, whose hair had frosted over as he aged, father of three sons and a daughter. Signi, wrapped in fur, smiled at her. age had turned a face that shone with the fresh-faced beauty of youth into even her forties into a softer, more worn beauty. Hair that glinted still with the shine of faded gold was plaited and pinned up in coils under her hood.
She opened a gate and looked out. In the distance, she could see a figure. Kari stood in the snow, his ravens flying around him. She crossed over the snow towards him. The red-beared giant who had been the strongest warrior and cared for Kari all his life had died in a battle he could never win. He dropped ill in the same place where Kari stood now, and none of Kari's sorcery could cure him, despite its ever-increasing power. "Don't worry, Kari,," he said gruffly, looking at the boy whose strong grief and anger seemed unnatural on his pale face. "It's not what your power is meant for." Jessa and Kari had reversed roles for once; Kari cried like a baby when Brochael died, and Jessa had clutched his shoulder, dry-eyed.
He turned to her long before he would have been able to hear her footsteps, his face impassive and smooth as ice, cold and identical to Gudrun's. She stepped up to him and gripped his arm. He took the consolation without expression and looked north to where the land of the White People lay, the home of the witch, Kari's reflection, who haunted him even after he and their small party had locked her soul in crystal and given it to the wolf-man to hide.
"All gone but one," he said, turning to her.
"One will be enough," she said fiercely. "I'll always be there, you won't lose us all."
"Why did you come out here?"
"I was looking for you. It's been years since you came here."
He turned away, restless. "I'm a Snow-Walker. The White People are calling to me."
She caught his hands. "I'm watching you, to make sure you don't become like her. I'll hold you hear."
He turned slightly, the profile of his pale face almost lost against the snow.
"I'll hold you to yourself."