Stories of old.
I.
Many days I’ve wandered far and wide in the forests surrounding my home, as long as I can remember I’ve loved the ancient trees and hills, the many tiny ponds and mighty lakes and winding rivers. The withered ruins and mossy rocks always reminded me of the old stories Mama used to tell me when I was young. Back in the days when I still was a little girl and she could walk beside me in the forest.
Of many strange things she told me, father told me her nana told her a lot of stories growing up, and that I should not listen to her. I don’t know if all of them are true, but I can say that some are, and I don’t know if I want to know what is true or not. Maybe it’s best not to.
If you walk outside the town walls, take the new road heading east and follow it you come to a river, its stream flows from the mountains in the east to the ones in the west. Walk upstream until the trees grow twisted and their branches curves like claws trying to reach your face as you walk against the wind.
Somehow it’s always a wind coming from the eastern mountains.
Many times I followed that river uphill to the old parts of the country where my people have lived for years beyond count. A place where countless towns and kingdoms have risen and crumbled to dust beneath the starry skies. Buried beneath the snow lies the ancient stones of houses and temples and castles and things too old for me to know.
It’s the old country, full of ancient secrets.
Mama used to tell me stories about the days before the winter, when the seasons still changed and the land was green and warm and alive.
“They say he came from the stars, The winter king, long before the winter came and after him others followed. This was long before the first man had awakened and the world was young and the moon wasn’t born yet. When everything was dark and cold and the land harsh, he came and lit up the world. Gave the hills their trees, the plains their grass, the rivers and lakes their water.
But in his might he had little patience and when mankind came with our wars and destroyed what they’d created he’s patience soured. And from his crystal halls made by the fires of ice-dragons he cursed the kingdom. Gave to us an eternal winter, to remind us of our wrongdoings and punish us for our greed and selfishness.”
Such stories she told me, and many more.
The other day I wandered in the forests, far away to distant meadows and rivers at the foot of the mountains. The old trees seemed sad; it must be cold when the wind howls and the frost bite you in the night.
I imagined the naked trees in a coat of leaves, a quilt of grass on the ground and flowers growing in the glades. Oh, how I love flowers, I’ve seen some of them the gardeners grow in the glass houses atop of the warm springs but father says he will not buy them in these times.
“We need our gold for other things. Your mother is sick and we have to take care of her you and I.”
I went outside because I couldn’t stand hearing mama, every time I sat with father in his study reading a book from one of the dusty shelves I could hear her coughing through in the floor above and father’s face turned stale. Like a lead mask coated in frost and when he came down again from giving Mama her medicine, his eyes were swollen and red.
Another of mama’s stories came to my mind when I saw an old ruin, the remnant of a castle with one small tower still intact, I dared not venture inside in case the roof would fall down so I went into the courtyard. The old battlement half fallen to the ground and boulders lying strewn about in the snow.
Once there was a mighty queen, in the elder days, who faced a raging war and the invaders came closer to the capital each day. She didn’t know what do to when crows came telling of bitter defeats and more and more wounded commoners sought refuge in the neighboring towns.
One of her guards was a knight from an ancient family now long dead and their names forgotten. He was a handsome youth, strong and brave and valiant as a knight should be. He loved his queen more than any knight ever did; she loved him too and they often met in secret even if they shouldn’t.
She vowed to love him forever and he to protect her no matter what.
But the war got nearer, and the queen didn’t know what to do. So she ventured out in the night, following the northern stars to the mountains by the sea where she found a cave and in that cave she found many odd and ancient things slumbering beneath the earth.
Among them a giant made of stone and there she prayed to the stars in the skies to wake him.
“Take me,” She said. “please, my people are suffering and the winter is soon upon us. Take me and save the people!”
The stars heard her prayers and answered them.
Down at the foot of the mountain the knight fought the enemies, they all heard the roaring from the depths of the mountain, felt the ground rumble and the air freeze as a wind swept over the plains and hills and forests. Then they heard the roaring and heard a noise as of a storm brewing atop the mountain and a wind so cold it froze the enemies to the core.
Marrow and bone, skin and flesh, heart and soul, all turned into ice and in the skies a mighty white figure came down from the mountains. They tried to flee, but the giant followed, bringing the breath of winter down upon the enemies as the knight and his brothers watched in terrified awe.
The giant slew the enemies down to the last man, then turned its face to the mountain and in a flash of starlight disappeared. Never to be seen again. The war was finally over, but the queen had vanished and the news devastated the knight.
“I will find her!” He said. “I’ll search of her day and night until I can bring her back to me!”
And away he went, up the mountain to find the cave and then down again.
To the forests and plains and hills and valleys he searched, but he couldn’t find the queen anywhere. It’s said that on cold, winter nights when the wind howls and the darkness gathers thicker than fog and the stars shine bright you can see him. Still in his armor, sword in hand, searching the lonely mountaintops or the vast forests for his lost queen.
