[Nivalis Silverfrost]
Many hours passed as Nivalis and her children remained motionless, except for their shared shivering. The wind howled fiercely outside, but its sound was muffled by the thick layers of snow that had accumulated around their shelter. Underneath layers of blankets and furs, Nivalis held her offspring close, her arms protectively wrapped around their tiny bodies. She could feel their chests' gentle rise and fall as they breathed.
Silvia, barely five years old and fragile like a snowflake, trembled in her mother's embrace, unable to control her limbs as the cold and fear gripped her. Nivalis held her daughter even tighter, the warmth of her own body trying to combat the relentless chill. Silvia's voice barely rose above the silence of the shelter as she whispered, "Mommy?"
Nivalis responded in a soft, soothing tone, trying not to show any of her worry. "Yes, my dear?"
Silvia drew in a deep, shaky breath, her voice hoarse. "Do you think we'll be okay?"
Nivalis's heart ached, and her brows knitted in worry as her precious child's words hung in the air. Her fingers trembled slightly as she stroked through Silvia's soft, silky hair. "Yes, honey," she replied, forcing her voice into a confident and reassuring tone. "We will be okay. I promise."
The girl's body shook once more, the fierce weather outside made her young heart race, and her muscles tensed in fear. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and then a soft, muted sob escaped her. "I'm a little bit scared, Mommy," Silvia whimpered, her voice small and trembling.
All the mother could do was tighten her embrace, her fingers gently interlocking with Silvia's smaller ones. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered, trying to calm her. "I'm here, and nothing bad will happen. You're safe, and so is your baby brother, Asty." Nivalis brushed a strand of Silvia's hair behind her ear and gazed into her innocent, watery eyes; after lying here for so long, their eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, enough to see each other's faces.
Burying her face in her mother's bosom, Silvia nodded, seeking shelter and safety in her embrace. To soothe her daughter, Nivalis tenderly rubbed her back. "Would you like me to tell you a story, my dear?" she whispered in a soft and warm, motherly voice.
The girl shifted slightly, mumbling a muffled plea into her mother's bosom. "Yes, please. About adventurers, Mommy. How do I become one?" A spark of anticipation danced in her young eyes.
Nivalis smiled faintly, continuing the comforting caress of her daughter's back. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that," she responded.
The child frowned, her expression filled with frustration. "Why, Mommy? I want to become strong, to protect you and Asty. And to save people like in the stories," Silvia muttered, sounding confused. Her little fingers dug into the underside of her mother's breast, squeezing lightly.
Nivalis sighed and responded in a soft, soothing voice. "Oh, sweetie," she murmured. "Alright, honey, let's start with the basics," she spoke in a low, comforting voice. "There are two ways to become an adventurer, and the first is to be born with something called a Blessing."
"Blessing? What is that?" Silvia asked with genuine curiosity, her eyes wide and innocent.
With a warm smile, Nivalis explained, "It's something you're gifted with from birth, love." Nivalis paused, giving Silvia's mind a chance to absorb the new information, and then she continued, "Those people are known as the Blessed as they have an affinity to control a specific element. There are six types of blessings: fire, water, earth, wind, light, and darkness. Blessed ones can manipulate their element, like controlling fire, controlling water, and so on."
The girl breathed out in awe, her eyes shimmering with wonder. She eagerly listened, her gaze darting back and forth between her mother's eyes and lips, soaking up every word spoken. "This is so cool," she whispered, almost chirping.
Nodding gently, Nivalis replied kindly, "It is, my pumpkin. It is."
"Mommy," the child asked with curiosity, "am I Blessed?" A hint of hope flickered in her expression.
Nivalis shook her head gently and responded in a calm and tender voice, "I don't know, honey. You're still very young, and it can take some time for a Blessing to reveal itself."
The girl's brows furrowed slightly in disappointment. "Are you Blessed, Mommy?" she asked hopefully, even though she hadn't seen her mother do magic.
— "No, honey," Nivalis replied calmly, shaking her head gently. "Unfortunately, I am not one of the Blessed. I am just a regular elf," she admitted without any sadness.
"Then how does someone become one if they are not blessed from birth?" the girl asked, pulling herself a bit higher, closer to her mother's face.
Cupping her child's cheek, Nivalis responded, "The other way to become one, my sweet, is to find a small gemstone called a Blessing Stone, or Soul Stone. It's a rare gem, but it can give you unique abilities like breathing underwater or becoming incredibly strong."
The girl's heart raced with hope, and her voice filled with enthusiasm as she asked, "Wow... where can I find one, Mommy?" The idea of becoming one of the powerful adventurers from the stories suddenly seemed within reach. Just find a rock!
With a kind smile, Nivalis spoke in a gentle, matter-of-fact tone, "Finding one isn't easy, my dear. They're incredibly rare and usually come from the bodies of monsters." She paused momentarily before adding, "The stronger the monster, the more powerful the Blessing Stone might be. Though, it's not a given that the monster will have one, even if it's strong; it's a bit of a gamble. I heard that even if you defeat hundreds of monsters, you still might not find a single one. That's why their job is so dangerous, sweetie." Nivalis said, trying to paint a realistic picture for her daughter, hoping to discourage her from such a dangerous path.
The girl's face fell, and her voice grew small and hesitant as she mumbled, "I see." The idea of fighting monsters, let alone hundreds, was terrifying.
"But," her mother continued, "you can also purchase them, though they can be quite pricey," she added, giving her little butt a reassuring pat. "To be completely honest, many if not most folk become adventurers without affinity or a Blessing Stone... hoping to get one during their travels. But it's not a safe path to take, sweetie. I want you to remember that," Nivalis cautioned, her voice filled with concern. "I once saw a report on your grandfather's desk... let's just say they don't live very long."
Silvia's brows knitted in disappointment, and her dreams of becoming an adventurer were suddenly less appealing. Yet, a spark of curiosity remained in her eyes as she asked, "Mommy, did you ever get a Blessing Stone?"
Nivalis's voice carried a hint of sadness as she responded, "No, my dear, I never did," regret lingering in her words.
"Why not, Mommy?" Silvia asked, tilting her head to the side.
Taking a deep breath, Nivalis began to explain. "You see, my sweet, there was a tradition among noble elves. Girls were not allowed to absorb stones before marriage because it would spoil their purity. It's an ancient tradition, something that our family has followed for generations. It's why I don't have one," she admitted, a touch of sorrow in her tone.
Silvia pouted in protest, not quite happy with such unfairness. "But, Mommy, I am also a girl! Does that mean I can't have one either?"
Nivalis shook her head gently and reassured her daughter in a soft and loving tone. "Those are old traditions, my sweet. We don't need to follow them anymore," she smiled ever so gently. "You can grow up to be whoever you want to be, my dear."
Silvia, a bit relieved, exhaled and responded softly, "Thank you, Mommy," her smile returning. "If you could have any blessing, what kind of power would you want, Mommy?" she asked curiously.
Nivalis considered the question and then replied with a gentle shake of her head. "It doesn't matter much to me, dear. As long as it helps me protect you and Asty, I would be happy." She paused momentarily before adding, in a nostalgic tone, "But..."
"Oh? Tell me, tell me," Silvia chirped, looking at her mother's face in the dim light of their shelter. Her golden eyes shining like stars on a clear night.
With a gentle chuckle, Nivalis confessed, "When I was little, I used to imagine myself as a healer, just like my grandmother. She was incredible. I don't think there was an illness she couldn't cure or a wound she couldn't mend."
"Can a Blessing Stone make you a healer?" Silvia asked in a hushed voice.
Nivalis nodded. "Yes, it can, my dear. There are all sorts of stones out there. It probably wouldn't be as powerful as someone naturally blessed with light like she was, but it would be better than nothing," she explained.
"Sounds nice. I think that's a nice dream, Mommy," Silvia murmured.
Nivalis smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair affectionately. "Thank you, sweetie," she said, her tone filled with love. Then, she asked, "And what power would you like to have, my little snowflake?"
"Hmm," Silvia hummed thoughtfully, her brows furrowing in concentration as she pondered the question. After a moment, she broke into a mischievous grin and declared, "Healing, too! I'm very original, I know."
— "Then we can be healers together," Nivalis smiled down at the girl, giving her tender cheek a gentle pinch, bringing a bit of color to her pale face.
"Yay!" Silvia giggled with delight, her eyes twinkling.
They continued their conversation deep into the night, the gentle murmur of mother and daughter filling the shelter, battling the raging storm outside. As the hours passed, Silvia's eyelids grew heavier and heavier, the day's adventures lulling her into a peaceful sleep in her mother's embrace. But Nivalis couldn't find sleep herself, the relentless howling of the wind outside only seemed to grow stronger, and the icy fingers of winter reached deeper into their tiny sanctuary.
She turned her gaze to her baby son, Aster, who lay peacefully beside his sister, swaddled in warm blankets. He was so small, so innocent, and vulnerable. Her heart filled with love and tenderness as she gently stroked the delicate skin of his cheek. As she gazed at her son, a single thought flashed through her mind: 'What will happen to us?'
The snowstorm showed no signs of letting up. The cold, the wind, and the snow were relentless and only growing stronger. "Please, let the storm pass," Nivalis whispered under her breath, her plea disappearing amidst the howling wind.
...
Time seemed to blur into a fog of exhaustion and worry, leaving Nivalis unable to tell how long it had been since the storm began. Her only focus remained on her children, their safety, and how to keep them warm. She would have given anything to see that warm fire crackling and their rosy cheeks smiling back at her. But there was nothing she could do; the snowstorm was too fierce and strong.
She was tired, so very tired. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and fatigue had begun to creep in. Yet, she knew that if she allowed herself to fall asleep, they might never wake up again. So, she stayed there, her body trembling from the cold, struggling to feel her limbs. All she could do was hold her son and daughter close, her arms wrapped around their tiny bodies. She could feel their warmth, breathing, and beating hearts, and it was the only thing keeping her going.
As the night deepened and the cold became more intense, Nivalis couldn't help but think that if she didn't do something soon, they might not survive the night. She had already done everything she possibly could to keep her children warm, but it wasn't enough. So, she thought about the trees around them, their branches, and their bark. If she could gather those things and start a small campfire, and use the snow around them to block the wind... 'It could work. It should work,' she repeated in her mind.
But she would have to leave her children and venture out into the blizzard alone. This was probably the last thing in the entire world she wanted to do. But she had to. Her motherly instincts urged, screamed at her, to act, and do something to protect her family. It was this overwhelming sense of duty that pushed her forward.
— "My dear, you need to wake up," Nivalis's voice was gentle, a whisper as she tried to wake Silvia up.
The girl stirred, rubbing her half-closed eyelids with her tiny fingers. "What's wrong, Mommy?" she muttered, her voice barely audible.
Nivalis softly pressed her lips to her daughter's ear and murmured, "I need you to get up, sweetheart. I'm going to try to start a fire to keep us warm."
"Huh? Why..." the girl asked, but a tremble of her petite body cut her off. She was cold.
Without a word, Nivalis gently laid Aster and Silvia down side by side, making sure to tuck them in snugly beneath their blankets, covering even their faces. After that, she turned her attention towards the entrance of the shelter.
"Mommy, wait!" the girl pleaded in a trembling voice. "Please don't go. It's too dangerous," she begged.
Pulling down the blankets her baby girl was covered in, she kissed her pale cheek, whispering a reassuring, "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll be quick. I promise," against her skin. A little sniff followed, coming from the worried child, who was afraid for her mommy. Nivalis, wiping a bit of snot from her daughter's nose, added, "Just stay here and keep our Asty safe, okay?"
Nodding reluctantly, the girl nodded shyly, right before her face was covered again. With that, Nivalis turned to the entrance once more. She took a deep, steadying breath and gingerly pushed aside the layers of blankets of their shelter, causing the snow to cascade onto the ground.
As Nivalis stepped out from their shelter into a world of pure white, a bitter wind stung her face, so cold that it burned. Despite the moon's brightness, everything was a blur of swirling white; each breath felt like swallowing daggers, her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
The snow was piled up high, making it incredibly difficult to walk, especially for someone as delicate and slender as her. Her limbs were heavy and weak, the cold draining her strength. With each step, she struggled against the storm, pushing through the blizzard with a desperate determination.
Almost bumping into a tree trunk, Nivalis began her task. She started to gather branches, pine needles, and anything flammable, carrying it back to their shelter. Her knife sliced through the branches, and as she worked, the loud winds and the blinding swirl of snow were her only companions.
But a strange, distant noise suddenly caught her attention. Her heart raced, and her palms grew sweaty as she looked around, but she couldn't see anything. Her grip on the knife tightened as she thought, 'I haven't slept much... maybe I'm just imagining things.' With her hands shaking from both the cold and fear, Nivalis continued to cut the branches, collecting them into her arms.
Then, suddenly, the sound grew louder, closer, and unmistakably real. It was a terrifying noise—an ominous roar, a guttural growl, an animalistic howl that chilled her more than the icy winds. It was something monstrous, she had no doubt. No animal or human could ever make such a sound. Nivalis froze, unable to move, her entire being locked in an instinctive response to danger. Her limbs were frozen in place, her blood running colder than the snow itself.
Slowly, she turned her head, her blue eyes cautiously scanning her surroundings. The snow was thick, and the visibility was so low that she could barely see beyond her arm's reach. There was no sign of any creature, no trace of any presence, making her doubt if she had really heard anything. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, trying to calm her pounding heart. "It was just the wind," she muttered, forcing herself to believe the lie.
A sudden, flickering movement caught the corner of her eye, and she turned her head with agonizing slowness. What she saw next made her instinctively lean back, pressing her back against the nearby tree, her heart caught in her throat. She couldn't believe what she was seeing: a man, or what had once been a man, staggered toward her, its body a rotting, decaying figure, its eyes empty and lifeless. Its mouth was agape, a low, guttural groan escaping its maw that shook her to the very soul.
She was paralyzed with fear, unable to look away as the grotesque figure drew closer. Its movements were jerky and awkward, somehow matching the woman's thudding heart. She knew she had to run, but her limbs refused to obey her commands. 'No, no, no, no...' her thoughts raced as she desperately tried to control her trembling body.
The fear coursing through her was overwhelming, and tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision even more. She couldn't help but let out a small whimper, her lips pressing firmly together to suppress more noises that threatened to escape her chapped lips.
The creature moved closer, its groans growing louder, and its raspy breathing, the sound of its footsteps, the squelching sound of its decomposing body—all of it invaded her senses. She could smell its rotting flesh, see the gaping hole in its abdomen, and the maggots wriggling within. As the creature neared, Nivalis couldn't bear it anymore, and decided to close her eyes tightly, hoping that if she didn't see it, it wouldn't see her. She knew it was stupid, childish even, but there was nothing else she could do.
She was sure it was over now. But, against all odds, the creature continued its dreadful walk without stopping, its heavy, unnatural footfalls fading into the distance. Only when the groans were too faint to be heard did Nivalis dare to open her eyes, slowly so. The trembles that ran through her body were uncontrollable, tears streaming down her face.
She was alive, somehow. She couldn't believe that she had survived something as terrifying, causing a tiny mumble, a prayer to escape her lips. She forced her trembling hands to drop the collected branches, and began to crawl silently on all fours back to the shelter.
Once inside, she found her daughter and son still lying in the same position she had left them, trembling under the blankets. With a heavy heart, she collapsed next to them, pulling the blankets and furs over herself and wrapping her arms around the fragile, shivering forms of her children. She buried her tear-streaked face in the soft, silky hair of her daughter, her mind spinning from what had just happened.
Amidst her thoughts, a soft, sweet voice pierced the silence. "Mommy?"
The woman lifted her tear-stained face, her voice hoarse and trembling. "Yes, my love?" she responded, trying to sound calm and in control, even though her whole body was still shaking.
"Are you okay?" Silvia asked, trying to see her mother's face through the darkness, her voice full of concern.
— "I am now, sweetie. I am now," Nivalis whispered, her voice cracking with emotion despite her efforts to control it.
The young girl hugged her mother as tightly as her soft and tender arms allowed, and she spoke in a gentle, high-pitched voice. "I'm glad you're back, Mommy. We were scared."
— "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm sorry," Nivalis apologized, kissing her baby girl's temple, her voice filled with regret.
"You didn't manage to make a fire?" the sweet child innocently asked.
Nivalis hesitated, taking a moment to consider her response. She didn't want to tell her daughter about what had just happened. Slowly, she nodded, and her voice trembled as she spoke. "Yeah... I didn't. The wind and the snow were too strong. It's just too cold."
"It's okay, Mommy," Silvia said in a gentle, soothing voice. "It's not that cold for me. We are big girls and we'll be fine even without it," she whispered, trying to reassure her mother. "I'm just glad you're safe."
— "Me too, sweetie." A faint smile graced the woman's lips, the salty taste on them.
With that, they settled back into a peaceful silence, hidden from the world outside in their small shelter. Mother and her children cuddled together, keeping each other warm, drifting in and out of sleep. The wind continued to howl, and the snow continued to fall, covering the world around them in white.