Winter Thoughts

Winter

It's cold. It's cold and Dark. It's Cold and

Dark

and...And you've been staring at the same blue moon, dark sky, and bright stars for the past ten minutes as the snow dampens and seeps int your clothes. And it's cold. Cold... so cold, but it doesn't matter does it?"Does it?" A voice asks. You turn and look and see... snow at first. It touches your red nose and your red ears and then it doesn't. It pulls away and you see pale, dexterous fingers that lead to a thin graceful hand, up turned and holding out a clear orb of ice. "You're cold, aren't you?" The voice says again, feminine sounding. The hand puts the orb in your hand and pulls back again and you watch as the snow swirls and shifts and creates a body. Slim and tall, with pale skin and....Beautiful. Blue eyes, pink lips, pointed ears. Fae. "Aren't you?"

"Cold? Not really." You respond. "Really? Why?" She asks, tipping her head. "I cannot touch what I cannot feel and I cannot feel what I cannot touch. So therefor, I am not cold. Not really." You inform the fae. It was true. You were hollow. There was nothing for you now, that's why you were out here. Sitting. Thinking. Wandering the night in the snow..."You don't seem afraid or surprised- to see me that is." The fae says, looking down at you with curiosity. "Do you not know who I am?""Does it matter? Whether or not I am cold? Or who you are? Should I be scared of magic? Or should I just accept that it exists?" You say, as if it

was

the mantra that your mother and father told you at night- instead of what they actually told you, which was: "You almost killed your mother, devil-child, and when we all die, we shall watch with smiles on our faces as you fall into the clutches of hell and suckle on the tit of Lilith." "You should accept it, but you should also be afraid of it. Of me, as well." She says, gracefully lowering herself onto her shins. "Why? What's the point?" You ask, looking down at the ice.

"Why can't you feel the cold?" She questions, folding her hands in her lap. You ponder..."I told you before: I cannot touch what I cannot feel and I cannot feel what I cannot touch. Which is why I am not cold, even though, any human would be catching their death in this weather." You reply, rolling the ball from hand to hand. "And why can you not feel?" "Because demons do not feel. Do not eat. Do not drink. Do not live." "And who told you this?""The people who created me.""So humans.""Essentially." The fae looks at you and smiles."Well, there you go." She says."What?" You respond. "Are you a human?" She asks. "Or are you a demon? If you are a human acting like a demon, then you are a seemingly "unfeeling" being filled with two things: loathing and longing. If you are a demon acting as a human, then you are a broken being filled with a multitude of emotion: love, hate, envy, loathing, longing, worry." She looks at the moon above and continues. "Either way you can feel.""But what if I am neither?" You ask, persistent. "Every being in this universe has a soul. Every Soul can feel." She says. "And some souls are just purer than others." She looks back down at you and you see yourself in her inky pupils. Wide eyes filled with sadness and anger, skin so pale that you flinch at the eerie blue-ness of it.

"Do you know why I have shown myself to you?" She asks, drawing her legs up to her chest. You stay silent. "It's because your soul was in pain and crying out in anguish, but it is also because yours was the purist soul I've seen in a millennium. It does not deserve to cry."

She presses a hand to your sternum. "Nothing so beautiful, deserves to cry." And for the first time, you feel something roll down your cheeks and drip-drop onto your hands and you reach up to feel your eyes and realize that you'e crying. All because of six simple words with a three word meaning. "Earlier you asked if I knew who you were," You hiccup, drying your tears as you look at her. "Yes and you asked what was the point?" She replies. "Do... you know who I am?""No." "If I tell you who I am, then you might not think of me the same way. In fact, you might actually be afraid of what I might do." She says. "'Every being in this universe has a soul.' That's what you said. So, I shall not be afraid of a Faerie, just like you aren't afraid of a demon." You reply, smiling. "Well then." She says, quirking an eyebrow. "My name has been written down many times by many people who have only caught glimpses of me. My true name is the chill that runs down your back in the middle of the night and my title is that of the wind.""So, who are you?""Why, I am Mab: Queen of the Winter Court..." She says with flair. And like you said, you weren't afraid of her. In fact, you felt- Honored. "And now, you must sleep.""Why?" You ask."Because you must dream a better dream, for tomorrow you won't be where you are now, but where you wish to be."