The Remains of Winter

         Siearra knelt at the edge of the lake, filling her gourds. The odd color of the water amazed her and made her feel uneasy at the same time. It gave her Elven reflection a bluish tinge.

         The entire island she and her nomadic tribe had been forced to inhabit felt odd; it felt magically charged. She shuddered as the last of the gourds filled. She loaded her cart and prepared to head back to the small, hastily built village nearby.

         “Seems we've been here for more than a season,” Eidel spoke to her left. “You'd think we'd see a frost riming the edges of the lake each morning.”

         “Perhaps the seasons come late, Eidel,” Siearra said. Her friend studied the water before her, the knees of her skirt wet from the small, gentle waves.

         “Perhaps,” Eidel said after a moment. “Mark my words, winter is coming. I can feel it in my old bones.”

         “You're only an age older than I, Eidel!” Siearra said, chuckling.

         “I feel old. Ever since we were ship-wrecked. There's just something –” she stopped short and quickly bent to her task as their Clan Chief approached. Siearra turned to watch him walk past, his eldest son in tow. Eidel would not speak of the same odd stirrings she herself felt in front of their leader out of respect. To voice any misgivings about the area he chose for their survival would be adding insult to injury.

         Siearra watched her chief's retreating form, then shifted her gaze to his son, Tefahn. Her heart fluttered a bit as she realized Tefahn was looking at her. The longing in his eyes spoke volumes and she flushed a deep red before turning back to her task.

         “Some things a storm cannot destroy,” Eidel said softly as Siearra walked away, pulling her cart.



         Winter had its moments of bitter cold, but surprisingly little snow fell. The beginning of spring was spent in celebration for their small bit of good fortune. As the warmer weather arrived, a group headed to the north to bring back enough wood to rebuild the ships that had carried them this far.

         Tefahn sat before a fire during one celebration, a scowl upon his face, flames reflected in his sea green eyes.

         “He looks unhappy,” Eidel noted.

         “Yes, he does.” Siearra agreed.

         “Go sit with him. Talk.”

         “I don't know what to say.”

         “Tell him you're sorry.”

         “Sorry that I rejected his proposal of marriage in front of the entire clan but I've changed my mind?” Siearra snorted indelicately.

         “Exactly.”

         “Um. No. What's the matter?” Siearra asked, noticing her friend fidgeting.

         “Nothing, I don't know. I'm cold, yet I'm too warm if I get closer to the fire.”

         “Strange.”

         “I'm just acclimating. I'm not sleeping well, either. Dreams of the storm and the shipwreck plague me.”

         “I can help with that. Very few of my vials and potions survived, but I still have some leaves I can brew into a tea. They were soggy, so I don't know how well they'll work, but we can try.”

         “Thank you, I'd appreciate any help to get a good night's sleep.” Eidel smiled at her friend.



         Siearra slept well past suns rise, as did the other revelers. She stretched, not wanting to leave her bed. She could not linger, though. She had promised to help with the days' baking, as had Eidel. Siearra decided to rouse her friend, see how well she had slept.

         After dressing, she went down to Eidel's hut and gently knocked. She waited a moment or two, but didn't hear any movement inside.

         “Eidel?” Siearra knocked again and entered. “Wake up, Eidel, we have baking to do.”

         Siearra went to the bedside table and lit a small candle, trying to dissipate some of the gloom from the overcast day. When she leaned over to wake her friend, she noticed a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her skin was tinged blue as if she were deathly cold.

         “Eidel, wake up!” Siearra yelled. She roughly shook her friend who struggled to open her eyes.

         Eidel moaned, half asleep.

         Siearra rested the back of her hand against her friend's cheek and felt the fever. She knelt and filled a cup from a gourd on a shelf above her bed, then helped her friend sit upright so she could take a drink. As soon as the water passed her lips, Eidel suddenly felt almost cold to the touch.

         “By the gods,” Siearra whispered. Outside, the rest of the clan was rising and there were some shouts of alarm. “I'll be right back,” she told her friend, helping her lay back down. Siearra rose and ran outside.

         “What's happening?” she asked, grabbing the tunic of one of her clan-mates as she tried to run past.

         “People are sick. My mother is burning with fever!” the young girl grasped Siearra's hands, not wanting to let go.

         “Take me to her,” Siearra said, running to keep up as she was pulled along. When they entered the small hut, Siearra went straight to the water gourd and poured a cup. Once the woman took a drink, she cooled just as Eidel had. Siearra also noticed her blue-tinged skin.

         “What's going on?” the young girl asked.

         “I don't know, Lynell. Go to the others, give them water and see if it helps.”

         The young girl nodded and dashed out, Siearra on her heels. As Siearra sped from home to home, helping others, she began to wonder. When she left the last home, she literally ran into Tefahn. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her over.

         “You're not blue like the others,” he stated.

         “No. Tefahn, I need your help.”

         “With what?” he asked. He realized he still held her and dropped his hands to his sides.

         “I need to go in the lake. Get a boat and meet me on the shore.” She ran off before he could respond and went to her hut. She pulled items off a small crate and dropped to her knees. She sifted through the contents, trying to find the one vial she hoped had survived. As her fingers closed around the tiny container, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Before she left, she went to her own water gourd and drank two full cups. As she exhaled, a plume of air escaped her lips as if she had just blown out a breath in the cold winter air.



         Tefahn paced the beach, a boat sat ready on the shore. He looked up to see Siearra running towards him and she didn't stop until she was in the boat.

         “Let's go,” she said to Tefahn and he pushed the boat into the water. He splashed behind it for a moment before getting in. Siearra helped him place the oars and together they pulled the boat onto the lake.

         “What is it you suspect?” Tefahn asked her as she uncorked her small vial.

         “I don't know exactly. I just feel there's something in this lake. I've felt something since we arrived.”

         “And you said nothing?”

         “And increase your father's burden?”

         Tefahn scowled, but nodded his understanding.

         “Wait here. I won't be long. This is a weak potion, it won't last long. Promise you'll wait for me, Tefahn.”

         “I promise, Siearra.” He looked at her for a long moment and she had to turn away. She quickly quaffed the potion and went over the side.

         Once in the water, Siearra felt the magic more keenly. The lake suddenly lit as the clouds broke, allowing the rays to shine down to the depths. Siearra took a tentative breath, relieved when her potion worked. She twisted to dive down deeper and turned her head, not knowing what to look for. The suns rays did not reach far, but she didn't need much light to see the giant form lying on the bottom. Large gashes could be seen in the carcass from where she floated. Blood no longer flowed from the wounds, but its magic did. Of that, she was positive. She recalled the old stories; she had read the books in the vast libraries of Sengral before being banished by her Elven kin.

         Her potion began to wear off and she propelled herself upwards. Once her head broke the surface, she turned, looking for Tefahn. He was close, leaning over and peering into the water anxiously.

         “Tefahn!” she called out. He turned and saw her, then scrambled to the oars. Once close, she grabbed the edge and pulled herself back into the boat.

         “What did you find?”

         “I'll tell you with everyone else. Once we're back on shore, I need you to find your father.”



         “What's this all about?” Tehrahn asked once everyone had been assembled as Siearra had asked.

         “I've discovered something in the lake,” she said.

         “Well, go on,” the clan chief said, folding his arms across his chest.

         “Well,” Siearra squeaked, suddenly realizing everyone was listening to her. “I, um, think I have found what is making us sick, for lack of a better term. I had Tefahn take me out on the lake.” Siearra explained. “I found an ice dragon at the bottom of the lake. I read something once that said whenever an elemental dragon dies, the magic seeps off of it into the surrounding land and well, I think this is no different.”

         Everyone began to whisper at her news.

         “An ice dragon?” Tehrahn asked.

         “Yes. Ever since we arrived, we've been drinking that water,” Siearra continued. “I think it's affecting us. I know it's affecting us. Eidel seemed to be suffering from fever this morning with several others, but once they drank the water, they were fine. We're also beginning to take on some of the dragon's appearances. Our skin is turning blue and we're hardly affected by the cold. I can only assume this will continue if we stay.”

         “So what do we do?” someone asked. “Do we leave?”

         “No.” Siearra said.

         “No?” Tehrahn asked, his eyes narrowing.

         “We've already been here too long. I think if we leave and don't have this water with us, we'll die.”

         Everyone was silent, taking in her statement.

         “I cannot be sure of this,” she whispered into the silence. “I can figure this out alone, no one else has to risk their life. If I'm right, you'll have your answer in a few day's time. If I'm wrong, we can leave. Eidel can come with me.”

         “Siearra, what are you going to do?” Eidel asked,  her voice broke slightly as she stifled a sob, knowing the answer.

         “I have to stop drinking the water. It shouldn't take long, since you only went without it for a night and developed a fever. I need to avoid drinking it for a few days. At the very least, I should just get sick.”

         “And what's the worst that can happen?” Tefahn asked quietly.

         Siearra bit down on her lower lip and looked around at all the faces she had known all her life, trying her hardest to etch each feature to memory.

         “I'm very sorry, Tefahn,” she said, then turned and fled, running as fast as she could. Behind her she heard them calling her name and after a moment or two, she heard someone. She turned her head and saw Eidel running to catch up, flinging gourds around her neck that people had shoved at her. She dared not look back, she would only see Tefahn's stricken face and then her resolve would be broken.



         Several days later, Eidel returned to the small village. Alone.