SciFi and Fantasy Stories: Myth 1 of 2

Myth.

Rain and Frost.

Sandra Viglione.

January, 2008.

She danced. The cold winter wind whirled away from her warm silhouette, and her song awoke the birds in the trees. The same trees, and the grass dressed in fresh green and even the flowers dared to show up bashfully their sleepy corollas. And she danced on in the twilight. Flapping veils in pink and blue, and flying golden hair shining like the sun, caressing the wind; until the wind lied down at her feet, turned into a  soft breeze, warm, scented…

He felt the change in the air and frowned. Hadn’t they taken over this place a few moments ago? The air should feel cold, and… He sniffed the air with disgust. These lands belonged to his Lord. What did this mean, then? There was a neat scent of flowers. It couldn’t; it mustn’t be so. He surveyed shadowy his troops, now retiring, cold, slow and tired to the headquarters. The Lord would want a revision for tomorrow. And the report, tonight, that for sure. The Master of the Winter was not famous for his patience, precisely. He frowned again and repressed a sigh.

‘Captain Frost, is everything all right?’

The young captain looked at his lieutenant.

‘Tell me, Ice. What scent is that?’

The other sniffed attentively the breeze and shook the head.

‘I cannot sense any smell in the air,’ he said in low voice. And then looked at his captain in a different way. ‘My captain?…’

Frost smiled a little. Every time Ice called him ‘my’ captain he was about to say something… well, something not related to military rules and hierarchy.

‘What’s now, my friend?’ he asked.

‘What are you smelling? Do you want me to go with you?’

Ice knew him well. He was the best nose in Lord Winter’s army. If he was sniffing something, there was something. And besides, after such a long journey, after a long battle and due victory, he wouldn’t send his troops back into battle. He rather go by himself and take a look. After all, it couldn’t be a great thing, given they had won. Enemies, if there still was any, must be running away.

‘No, my friend. Go, lead the men to the headquarters. Cover the track. I’ll go and check it.’

Ice watched him off with some concern. Captain Frost was a good friend, one of those you find once in your life, in Lord Winter’s army. But he had given his orders. Gentle and firm as usual, hidden as a simple request. Lead the men, cover the track. Ice sighed, and rode to the head of the column, retreating slowly back to the quarters.

She danced. The man watched her appearing and disappearing  among the trees. A bird-woman. A flower-woman. What kind was she? Anyway, she was the enemy, he remembered. The captain took a hand to the sword, but when his hand was upon it, a sound he had never heard before made him step back with a sudden shudder. What was that?

He looked around. Beyond the bushes that rimmed the hollow, the dancer had stopped. On her extended hand there perched a bird, and she was singing with it. Captain Frost recognized the creature. At times, he had found some of this little animals, frozen by surprise, when they conquered too fast a new land. The seemed cold, pale… and dead. The creature this maiden held, on the other hand, seemed so… alive. Warm. Captain Frost wanted a closer look. So he slid ahead to spy on.

The girl stopped her song all of a sudden.

‘She must have heard me,’ he thought, freezing. Half melted snow made him shiver. That was a nasty sensation, all that beautiful dying ice. His own cold froze the crystals around him again.

‘Ah! There you are!’ a voice said. The maiden turned round and Frost held his icy breath.

‘My flower, you should join the rest of us… this is no longer a safe place…It’s getting cold…’

Another woman, older than the dancing maiden, entered the hollow. She brought with her the heavy scent of woods and trees. Frost took a hand to his mouth to suffocate the coughing. The heavy smell reminded him earth and trees, and growth, in the dark depths of an ancient forest.

‘Oh, M’tree… Just a little more… We worked too hard in this garden as to leave it behind this way,’ the girl protested. The old Mumblingtree smiled. Dancingflower always knew how to get hers.

‘I know, my dear. I neither want to leave my trees. But they are coming with ice and snow, and their lord will fill this place with coldness. It’s time for us to go…’

‘Please, I…’

‘All right. Follow the last pink cloud as soon as possible. Don’t let the night catch you.’

The maiden clung her arms around the old woman’s neck and kissed her noisily. Frost frowned in his site. What did all that mean? Those women, Daughters of the Sun, Lady Summer’s daughters, used to do a lot of incomprehensible things, and most of them seemed to him just… useless. Taking care of grass and flowers. He touched a little bellflower with the tip of his finger, and it congealed at once, staying rigid like a crystal cup. What was the use for these things? On the other hand, ice and snow… Who could remain impassible before the gorgeous view of a glacier or a high mountain dressed in white snow? But leaving out all of this; he knew, as everybody did, that Lady Summer and Lord Winter had been in war for more time than anybody could remember.

They had parted the world in two halves: the far frozen Eve[1]nim, large plains racked by the wind, and tall majestic mountains for the Master of the Winter. White snow, cold wind and icy waters, and immense woods crackling under the weight of the ice and the blow of the winds.

To Menaros[2], a land of sun. Large luminous woods, a jungle full of life Frost couldn’t imagine, flowered prairies and sunny beaches; a thousand of warm smells, and heat. Never-ending heat with no fresh snow or cold wind to breathe.

Between both reigns, this land. A land that was either covered in white or green. A frontier in permanent battle, the thin moving line of the war. There, once and again the Sons of the Sun sewed spring and the Sons of the Cold cropped snow. A land torn in an ever-changing season, not able to dream in springtime or sleep in autumn. Flowers freezing in ice and snow melting in a muddy thaw  so suddenly that no animal or tree could stand it. Thus things were.

As his thoughts wandered wild, the maiden had vanished. Frost rubbed his eyes. How could he lost her? How could he lost her? Irking, he hit the frozen flower, and it broke into pieces as if it was crystal. Lost! Taking her to Winter’s headquarters would be of utter importance. She was a spy, an enemy. She could tell them Lady Summer’s plans and strategy. She could tell them… Actually, he did not know what she could tell them. She didn’t seem a person of great consequence. But she was the enemuy, he repeated to himself. Catch her, take her… preferably alive.

Frost listened carefully. The rustling of leaves showed him the way. But leaves hushed, frozen as he passed by. He followed the girl in silence, and the frozen silece followed him. He turned himself a shadow among the shadows of the dark trees. Green trees? Yes, green. Green before him, and white behind. Snow fell again at his back, white and thick, sinking the forest again in winter.

Dancingflower realised something was going wrong when the icy breeze touched her back. Birds singing at the sun were no longer heard. She has hoped her dance protecterd them at least tonight. But cold was intense, and it ha come too soon. Her mates were gone. Sunray has helped her. And Butterfly, and Hummingbird. Even Bright, with his exaggerated heat, he would have fetch a bit of sun for her and her garden. But they were already gone. She knew that M’tree (Mumblingtree, the one in charge of the youngest) waited for her with the last pink cloud, but she’d send the rest home. She was alone. She couldn’t stay longer. So, Dancingflower ran as swift as a deer among the trees. She hurried, feeling that strange colddness at her back, that icy touch that followed her. And suddenly she couldn’t stand it any more. She turned round and faced the cold in the advancing twilight.

Frost stopped dead. The maiden had stopped, and she scrutinized the icy forest with blazing eyes.

‘Who’s there?’

Frost had never been considered himself a coward; but those eyes traspassed his heart with something that he had never known before. Without thinking it, he took out his sword and stepped forward to the light. 

‘Captain Frost, second division, third body of the Master of the Winter’s Army,’ he said. ‘Give up, and I won't do you any harm.’ 

His sword cast icy gleams. 

‘Never’, she said. ‘If you want me, you’ll have to catch me first.’

But she didn't escape. The young captain had something in the look, something she had never known before. She lifted her arms and turned roung, lifting a soft and warm breeze around her. With a slight movement she sent it toward the captain of the Winter. Frost lifted his sword. With a skilled movement, he stopped the breeze and transformed it in a gelid breath. And he didn't stop there. He cast his snow lunge, and then his ice blow, and a rain of icicles began to fall on Dancingflower. She didn't move. An inclination and another turn, and she eluded the sharp splinters of ice. The pieces she touched melted in dew. She advanced toward him, lifting a warm scented wind. Frost rose the hand to his face. Parfume got him dizzy. She turned around him once again, trying to surround him. Frost lifted the sword once again. Heat and perfume had formed a wall around him. Mad and suffocated, he cast some blind lunges of ice, and he ran away by the tunnel of cold he had opened up. 

Dancingflower fell on her knees. The blind charge had been brutal. The man of ice had reached her, although he had not stopped to check it. She looked her shoulder, frozen, and her frosted hair. And she got up with difficulty.  

M’tree had said 'The last pink cloud won't wait for you.' And she knew that if she didn't reach it before the night she would be lost. Surely, the ice warrior would have friends nearby. She couldn’t spend the night in this place. She began to run. 

The dying sun shone on her face, and she couldn’t stop to look if she was being followed. The last light already kissed its golden-silver hair when she reached the hill. She ignored the feeble chirping on the trees, claiming for the stolen spring, and the wound on her shoulder made her shiver. That and the pain of abandoning her creatures. Left on their own, the young birds and little flowers would die, almost surely. Though… Captain Frost had retired. Maybe they could survive the night.

A couple of tears ran down her face. If only she could keep a little warm for them… but thus it was, the war. As soon as Lord Winter covered the land with snow, they, the spring-carriers, must invade it and make it melt and recede. Flowers sprouted when they called them with the secret words, and little animals also used to come. Deer, and squirrels, and birds of every kind. When they stayed long, big animals came too: bears, and elks, and others. All of them ready to play on the grass, to run in the woods, to fly in the sky. She had heard the nightingale calling its mate, and the busy bluebirds carrying straws for the nest. She had seen the eggs glittering white in the warm nest, and a few weeks afterwards, she had heard the tweeting of the pigeons while the parents brought one and another worm for their ever-hungry bills.

A new couple of tears fell from her eyes when she thought of the flowers opening in the dawn, and their magic scents; and the ripe fruits, dripping sweet juice in the noon sun. And as the last pink cloud arose from the mist before her, she took a decision.

‘Tomorrow…’ she whispered, and the cloud took her out of sight.

The man following the girl stopped. He had followed her in silence, after running away from the heat cage she had built for him. Frost had went a few steps away. He was not a coward. He turned back and followed her, like a shadow, as the dancer ran to the hill. He’d trap catch her at the summit. And the forest ended so abruptly that nothing, ¡nothing! stood beyond it. The top of the hill was empty. The girl of the spring was not there, but the echoes of her last word still trembled in the air. He chewed the word as a promise.

‘Tomorrow…’

‘Who’s there?’

‘Lieutenant Ice. Rest. I’ll take this position. Go and eat something.’

The voice sounded firm. The soldier got off the lookout feeling deeply grateful. 

‘My lieutenant, my shift ends at...’

‘Go and eat something. I’ll take the rest of the shift.’

‘Thank you.’

If the night hadn’t been so dark, the soldier had seen Ice smiling. And Ice had seen the soldier's gratitude face. He had marched the whole day, and to his bad luck, the first guard had been his... until midnight. How would he liked to be inside, with his mates, in the illuminated room, toasting for the victory! He had been on the beat for more hours than he had wanted. But the night was really dark, and there were no bonfires to lit it. So the soldier disappeared in the night without any comment. 

Ice didn’t climb up the tower. He didn’t need to watch; there were no enemies in that direction. Only Frost. He hadn’t come yet. Ice felt nervous about his friend though he had spoken calm to the men. He had concealed his absence, but he knew he couldn’t do it longer. Soon, Lord Winter would summon him, and Ice must tell the Lord. He had covered his friend before, but never for so long. Something would have happened to him. A whole week! If there was a spy, and Frost had followed him… But Ice had a kind of sixth sense, and this feeling was not telling him anything concrete. For all he knew, Frost was fine.

Ice scrutinized the darkness attentively. A change in the air told him that Frost was near. Then, Ice noticed the movement. Finally, Frost’s figure showed, moving carefully among the icy bushes. 

Ice scrutinized carefully the darkness. A change in the smell of the air told him Frost was near. Then,  Ice noticed the movement. Last of all, Frost’s figure appeared, moving carefully in the frozen bushes.

‘Halt! Who’s there!’

Frost stopped in silence. He had recognized his friend’s voice. Ice approached.

‘Aha, there you are, my captain…’ he mumbled in low voice, half relieved, half mocking.

‘Ice…’

‘Anything wrong? What happened?’ Frost had sounded confused.

‘I--- I don’t know…’ Frost didn’t remember how he had reached here. Ice’s eyes, sharp in the darkness, watched him.

‘Where have you been?’

A chill shook Frost. He mumbled something Ice couldn’t understand. But the tone was enough for him.

‘Well, my friend,’ he said, patting on Frost shoulder. ‘If you go around spying on Summer’s Daughters, something like this is very likely to happen to you. Those witches are…’

‘Beautiful…’ Frost mumbled.

‘Dangerous. Take a bath before Lord Winter gets aware.’

And Ice turned his back on Frost.

‘Hey! I’m still your superior!’ he protested, recovering a little. But Ice just laughed.

‘I know, my captain. But still you’re stinking, my friend.’

Frost had waited in the hollow. ‘Tomorrow…’ He waited that tomorrow, wrapped in cold mist, hidden in the shadows. And that ‘tomorrow’ came, and another ‘tomorrow,’ and even a third one. Every day, Dancingflower appeared from a pink and golden cloud at dawn, and danced a little among the trees. Winter roared around, implacable. But where she danced, the sun used to get warmer when reflecting on her hair, and the scents of the spring followed her. Even wounded on the sohoulder, and Frost realised of it, the birds sang when she was near. And Frost remained there, immobile, sword still drawn, and the eyes fixed on the pink and violet veils of the dancing girl.

Every afternoon, Dancingflower promised: ‘Tomorrow…’ and  the birds and the flowers waited for her one more night.

When the cold of the night tore him from his trance, Frost travelled the hollow again. The memory of her dance still warmed the air. The smoothness of her movements kept the breeze alive. But what would be the price? Because the girl looked paler, more tired and scared at every day.

He didn’t think of showing again. Actually, he didn’t think of anything. When the cold of the night revived him, and it took him off his hiding, he came closer the place she had stopped for the last time. The warmest spot. The bells moved in the breeze, and not even his own cold could freeze them again. Dancingflower's tears were caught in them; and Frost picked them up one bu one, and kept them in his shelter, hanging down the leaves like dew drops. And the last day came.

She came with the sun, as usual. The clouds were thicker and threatening. She cast a nervous look upon her shoulder, and danced again. Her steps were not so sure as they used, and the storm soon shook the sky.

‘Oh, she must be aware…’ Dancingflower whispered with a touch of desperation in her voice. ‘But I… I cannot…’

And she gave still one, two steps, and a whirl that arose the breeze. Tears ran down her face, and they remained there, like crystal pearls upon the flowers.

And Dancingflower fell down on the grass. Frost approached. He hadn’t any clear idea of what was he going to do, but the maiden was fainted. Maybe he thought it was his opportunity to catch her, or perhaps he only wanted to help. He leaned upon her, and lifted her up. Her forehead grazed his shoulder, and a strange sensation, warm, seized him. Her hair had a soft scent; not the suffocating parfums of a wild spring, but the delicate smell of a fresh dawn. He bowed the head and kissed softly her hair. Gold turned into whit frosty silver, and Dancingflower opened her eyes. They looked at each other, still, and he lifted her up in his arms.

‘What are you doing?!’

Frost turned round slowly, Dancingflower in his arms. Before him there was a young man, golden hair, and eyes as bright as a flame.

‘Leave her alone!’ he shouted.

Frost backed up one step. His arms were still round the girl, and he couldn’t use the sword. He didn’t even had it with him.

The youth didn’t give him time to do anything. With a wave of hands very much alike Dancingflower’s dance, he lift his arms and rays of light and heat made Frost stumble backwards.

‘Nooo!’ Dancingflower screamed, standing up, and stepping among them. Light hit her, turning her a little golden. ‘Don’t do it, Bright!’

But Frost had fallen, stunned in the bushes.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ said the young man; and taking Dancingflower by the hand, he vanished in the mist. Almost at once, there came the thunder, and rain started to fall in torrents.

The rain drew a thick fog from the land. Frost couldn’t see very well. The land was cold, but the rain was hot, like a wild rain torn from the tropics. By the time Frost could breathe and see again, she, the maiden, wasn’t there. Neither the youth. He searched the hollow, splashing in that strenge rain, but the only thing he found was his sword, with a couple of her golden locks wrapped around the blade. He took them carefully, and his confussion receded a little. He looked for his collection of tears… but the rain had washed them out. There only was, under his blade, a little frozen bell, keeping two crystal pearls.

Far away, in a beautiful garden upon the pink clouds, the youngest of Lady Summer’s maidens recovered from her last trip. Flowers trembled, wet, at her feet, ant the air smelled of tears.

‘My little flower!’ M’tree called her.

Dancingflower lifted the head.

‘What happens? You no longer dance in the garden as you used…’

The girl shook the head and her now silver locks raised a fresh misty breeze.

‘I don’t know, M’tree. I can’t dance as I used to… Flowers go to sleep when I step on their ground.’

The old woman frowned a little. It wasn’t a good singal. Blue sky and golden sun must have gave back Dancingflower her colors. The wind should still play in her lilac and pink veils, and her hands should still shape the scents of the morning.

M’tree had talked with Bright. He himself had brought her back when the Lady noticed her missing. Bright was a good boy. He called the girls with his brilliant shine, and he himself brought them back when thing turned dangerous. M’tree had thought there was nothing wrong in allowing Dancingflower go back to the hollow. The first day she had come back hurt, that was true; but a touch of sun and a kiss of breeze had healed her. And the girl had sworn the enemy had run away. M’tree believed Dancingflower wwas stronger than the Winter’s men. Her touch was warmer, and her look sweeter. And day after day, she concealed her trips from the Lady.

But the third day, the Lady noticed her absence. M’tree fell her heart freezing. The Lady’s eyes sparkled. She shook her scepter, and dark clouds joined on the horizon. When she asked for the second time, lightning tore the sky. And M’tree confessed. The Lady sent Bright and the Sentries. But Bright was faster, and he reached Dancingflower before the Sentries of the Storm reached her. But she was no longer the same girl. She stared the distance, and sighed, waiting for something… Her hair had turned silvery, and the breeze around her was fresh and rainy. Some of them had started to call her Rain.

Dancin’rain  had gone, and she stopped talking to some shy roses by the fence. M’tree saw Bright nearing the girl. If anybody could do something… The youth approached and touched Rain’s shoulder. The girl turned round and smiled. Or not, for she bwed the head. He touched gently her chin… and with a wide movement of his arm, he took her dancing among the flower beds.

There had been a long time Dancingflower didn’t dance in the garden. She didn’t dance since she was Rain. Her silvery locks sprinkled cold droplets when she turned the head, and every one of her moves spread a white mist, Bright’s light turned into colors.

Bright shone with her, his light slightly hidden by the mist. The sky turned white. Rain gave antoher turn in Bright’s arms, and the sky started to cry. Bright took her hand and kissed it. M’tree looked at the sky, where now shone the rainbow.

Many days had passed before Frost could think of the dancer again. It was not he was too busy, what in fact he was; but because he couldn’t get the images together again. The memory ran off his mind like melted snow or water crystals. But the cold sun shining upon the icy surface of a lake, and the white icicles dangling down the trees brought it back, piece by piece.

The dream was there, and there was a mountain in his dream. A huge mountain made of pink clouds and gray mists. When he tried to enter the cloud, in his dream, his mind got full of confusion, and his heart of a warm sensatios, like the day he had kissed Dancingflower.

But there was a castle on top of this mountain of clouds, and he knew the beautiful dancer came from the castle. Then, the red light of the sun filled his eyes, and he used to wake up disturbed.

Day after day, the image of that castle obsessed him. He guesses it was Lady Summer’s castle, the heart of the Menaros. He guessed it should be as inexpugnable as Lord Winter’s fortress in the far Evendim. But in the bottom of his frozen heart he wished to see again the golden flower-woman, the bird-woman, dancing and singing in the hollow at dawn. Many days passed while Frost was busy in the Master of the Winter’s inner lands. Many days when every unexpected glimmer of light made him turn round.

Ice watched him, but not even his friendly concern would calm down Frost, or turn him into normal again. And sometimes, when Frost remained a long time in one place, the trees shook their snow coat and show golden, brown and red leaves.

 ‘Milady…’

M’tree was disturbed. Lady Summer herself had summoned her.

‘Mumblingtree, my dear. I wanted to talk with you.’

M’tree barely hid her astonishment. Talk with her? What for?

‘Milady, I…’

‘Tell me about this afternoon. What happened in the yard?’

M’tree looked at her hands. Really, she didn’t feel like talking about this. How could she explain that? She felt really upset.

‘Milady, Dancingflower was in the yard…’

‘Dancingflower? Dancin’rain, you mean. They call her so, don’t they?’

M’tree sighed an nodded. If the Lady said so, it was already official. Dancingflower would no longer be a flower, but Rain. And that of the afternoon confirmed it.

‘Rain was in the garden. Bright was with her. They danced together… and suddenly it started to rain. When Bright kissed her hand, colors shone in the sky.’

Contrary to what M’tree expected, the Lady of the Summer looked at her pensievely for a moment and nodded slowly.

‘A promise… and a hope.’

‘Do you know what does it mean?’ M’tree dared ask.

The Lady laid her look upon her and let out a sigh.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘What was before, long ago, repeats again.’

‘Milady?’

‘M’tree. We must send Dancingflower to a different place. That might help us.’

Mumblingtree looked confused at the Lady. The Lady looked at her with sadness in her eyes.

‘Last time I tried to stop it. The consequences were… unhappy’

The Lady didn’t explained herself. She looked through the window, in a very meaning direction… The old mount was there, dark, silent. The groves in it were wild, deep, thick. Not even M’tree, master of woods and trees dared enter in those dark woods. There were a rumor that one of the Sons of the Sun had been sent there, or had escaped. Nobody knew why. And he was not the only one…

But those were only rumors. Lady Summer wouldn’t send anybody that place. It was too cold and unfriendly.

‘We must send Dancingflower to a different place,’ the Lady said, still looking over the window. ‘A beach, with salty breeze to awake her senses, or a hidden valley, opened to the blue sky… A different place, far from this frontier…’

And Dancin’rain was sent far away. They had chosen a aspen grove, far in the south of Menaros. The warm air felt too much dry and hot. Trees were getting yellow and brown because of the drought. Too dry to survive. Still far, but much too near, the golden line of the desert was advancing. Dancin’rain felt the complaining of the trees like echoes of pain in her soul. But whenever she went, the white sky full of tears followed her… since she was Rain.

She tried to dance under the trees, and solitude got hold on her heart. The rain started at once.

The old hollow was there at last. The place he had met her the first time... The rest of Lord Winter’s army was far behind, probably behind the hills that now were dressing the ground in cold shadows. He had left them two days ago. And they were not looking for him… probably.

The sun faded and the mist came from some place. Frost stood there for a long while, waiting in the dusk. Silence was deep and though no snow covered the trees with a heavy coat, they didn’t whisper this night. They had nothing to say to him.

Sigh by sigh, the slow night went by, and seconds drove it slowly to its dark end. Silently the east shone with gray light and a golden glimmer set the clouds on fire.

Frost, sleepless, hidden in the mist, held his breath. The castle was there. Flags in the balconies, balconies in the towers, towers on the walls… Flags waving in the light of the dawn. Red clouds had brought the castle from the heart of Menaros, and in the thin air, he heard the call.

Frost withdrew a couple of steps, hiding again in the darkness under the trees. The mist still lent him a little refuge. And he saw what no other Son of the Winter had ever seen.

At the clear voice of the trumpets, many maidens and young men got out of the castle of light. Laughter and music followed them, and a sweet scented breeze moved their hair and veils. He surveyed the tide of giggles and dancing feet, but he didn’t see the silver-golden shine he was expecting.

No other girl among Lady’s Summer daughters had so much light in her hair, no other could have so much grace in her movements, no other was so sweet in her laughing… From that distance, he couldn’t see their eyes, but the light he had soon in hers… He knew none of these girls had such a look.

The Sons of the Summer spread here and there, and many of them vanished in the prairies or the groves. Some of them looked like spring flowers. Some other, like ripe fruit. The eldest of them, looked like ancient trees. They went off and took away their laughter and music. Even the light of the sun seemed darker after their departure. But Frost remained there, in the rim of the hollow, wrapped in cold white mist… waiting.

Minutes passed slowly by. A bird perched on a branch nearby, and tried a song. It cocked the head to the right, then to the left, and on seeing him, it flew off, annoyed. Frost wrapped up in the last shred of mist. It was fading now. And then, he looked again to the Castle.

Somebody was climbing down the hill of cloud. Frost couldn’t see her well because the light in the sky had changed. Blue had run away, and a strange white light bathed the hollow. White clouds covered the blue, and the Castle began to vanish.

The girl didn’t look back when it faded away. She walked slowly to the hollow where Frost was hidden. He delayed a moment in recognize her. The light in her had faded too, like the light in the sky had done. He stared how the girl approached, and somehow he was unable to move.

She was getting near, and nearer. Frost was almost able to see her eyes, and the tiny tears in her eyelashes.And Frost stood there, still, waiting for her.

The girl stopped in the hollow. Her old friend, the bird, chirped from the tree and she stretched the hand with a feeble smile.

‘Oh, my little one,’ she mumbled. ‘I cannot dance for you anymore…’

The bird looked at her in curiosity.

‘When I dance, the skies cry…’ she explained.

The bird twittered a little, and then, it flapped wings to the place Frost was still hidden. Dancingflower looked in its direction and gasped.

‘You… What are you doing here?’

The mist had vanished completely by now, and Frost was looking at her, dumb and surprised. The bird flew a couple of times around him, as if it wanted to show Dancingflower how harmless he was, and then it came back to her. He stuttered.

‘Er… My name is Frost.’

‘Captain Frost, second I don’t know what of the third body… or somethig like that. I’m Dancingflower… Or I was. Now they call me Rain.’

Frost advanced a couple of steps toward her.

‘And so what? Is it wrong? Raindrops also dance in the wind. Snowflakes do.’

Flower raised her face to him. Now he was closer she could feel his coldness. But  there was something fine with it. It felt fine.

‘Did you come to take me again?’ she asked.

He shook the head. Now she was so near, he could feel herheat. But that was also fine, too.

‘You came from the castle, didn’t you?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘The Castle of the Summer?’

She nodded again. Slowly at first, the light had returned to her eyes, and her silver hair reflected the light.

‘Come on,’ he said suddenly, holding her hand. ‘I’ll show you something…’

And then, she didn’t know why, she ran with the icy man through the forest, to the land between the hills and the grove.

She danced. The breeze awoke the flowers at her feet, and little droplets fell around her. He was dancing with her. At his contact, the little droplets turned into beautiful snow. He showed her the rainbow over their heads, and she pointed the yellow, red, moving trees.

He smiled. She smiled. They didn’t need to say anything. They melt into each other in love and pain, ice and fire, and they laid there, feeling the thin snow melting around and the beautiful rainbow vanishing in the sky. They saw nothing else.

‘Bright. Where did you find her?’

Bright hesitated. He couldn’t lie to the Lady, but…

‘In the garden beyond the grove. She was in a poodle of snow.’

‘Alone?’

Bright shudddered and avoided the Lady’s eyes.

‘Yes,’ he said in low voice.

The Lady hit the floor with her sceptre and thunder responded fron the distance. She was angry, and the storm corresponded her fury.

‘But?’

Bright raides his eyes and faced the Lady.

‘I saw a couple of shapes going away, milady. Two men, carrying a thrid one. I think they were enemies.’

The Lady rose heavily from her throne.

‘Milady?’

But Lady Summer didn’t answer him. She leaned over the window and stared frowning the dark woods. Story repeated, that was true, but this time, she wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

‘How many else will you take, tell me? How many from my sons?’

And she turned back to Bright and those who were with him.

M’tree backed up; the Lady’s expression was terrible. She looked at them serious, one by one, and she hit the floor with her sceptre again.

‘Fron now on, Dancin’rain, formerly Dancingflower, won’t come out this castle.’

M’tree leaned down, the hand to her heart. That wuld be terrible for her child. But she could do nothing. The Lady had spoken.

Out there, in the dark woods, the storm blasted.

M’tree had communcated the Lady’s desition in the morning. The detention and the cahnge of name. Dancin’rain had woke up, pale and incredulous, and had tried to lean our her balcony. Bars of light closed it when she peered out. She stretched the hand to touch the light bars, and drew it ut quickly. It was burnt. M’tree bandaged it, mumbling some comforting words, but Dancin’rain didn’t listened. She jumped on the bed and started to cry.

She was still crying when Bright came in. He only needed a look.

‘They told you, don’t they?’ she said.

Bright nodded.

‘I’m sorry.’

She rose up, eyes glittering.

‘How do you dare!? You brought me here. You told them!’

Bright backed up one step.

‘No, I… I didn’t tell anything!’

She looked at him again, and tears started to ran on her face. She drop on the bed and hid the face in her hands. Bright approached and sat by her.

‘Ho, ho… It’s fine… The Lady’s angers don’t last forever…’

The summer lightning blasted on the woods. Rain lifted the head and pointed it out to him. 

‘Don’t they?’ she said, incredulous. And she sobbed again: ‘I don’t even know how is he!’

Bright stared at her, confused.

‘He? What happened?’ he asked in a whisper, holding her hands.

Rain stared at him with eyes as gray as clouds. He pressed her hands, though he felt them cold among his.

‘We met in the forest… We went to the garden. We danced, and the rainbow shone for us…’

‘Us who, Rain? I…’

‘We kissed… The cold made me faint… He didn’t want to hurt me.’

‘But…’

Her eyes were full of tears.

‘You must help me… You must find him.’

‘Find…’ Bright looked really scared at the idea. ‘Find whom?’

‘Bring him here,’ she said not listening to him. ‘We’ll talk to the Lady together…’

‘She won’t…’

The gray eyes stared at him, suppliants.

‘Please, Bright! You got me into this, now you must get me out… Please!’

Bright looked at her, impotent. Of all the Daughters of the Sun, he had never been able to deny anything to Dancingflower. And now, even when she was Rain, and she was in love with one of those icy men, a soldier of the Winter, he couldn’t refuse.

‘All right,’ he heard himself saying. ‘I’ll look for him. Whoever he was and wherever he be…’

Frost woke up in a white empty room. A prison. Wind howled and moaned outside. He wasn’t surprised. The guard, a pale young man, had never served in his party… But that was expected. They wouldn’t put one of his friends to watch unpon him.

He didn’t bother in asking why was he there. They wouldn’t answer, and besides… he had disobeyed orders. He had practically deserted.

He sat down and looked at the inexpressive eyes of the young guard. He said nothing.

A few moments later he heard some voices in the corridor. From where he was sitting, Frost couldn’t see who it was. It seemed an argument. He stayed still, listening.

‘The prisoner must be taken before the Master of the Winter,’ a voice was saying.

‘The prisoner is under my custody. If something happens to him…’

‘I’m your superior. I’m not asking any favor. I’m giving you a command.’

Frost heard some brisk movements, and the clink of the keys. A door opened up, ahd his sentry got up, nervous.

‘Lieutenant.’

‘Soldier. Rest. Captain Ice has come to scort the prisoner before the Lord. Open the cell.’

Captain?, Frost thought. Then he had been ascended. Good for Ice, he’d do fine at the third body. Perhaps he’d reach to General. Or Major.

‘Prisoner, get up.’

Frost got up without a word. He neither looked at Ice face to face. He had been his friend, but desertors had no friends.

‘Let’s go.’

He saw askence the glimmer on Ice’s blade, blue and indifferent, and he walked in front the man that had been his subordinate without a word. They passed the control post, and some other of the guards watched him as Ice accomplished the formalities.

‘No tricks, ex Captain,’ one of the guards mocked.

Frost didn’t answered.

The way from the prison to the Master’s headquarters was long, but not so much as this time. Suddenly, Frost realised that they wasn’t going to the Lord’s headquarters, but his own posse’s. He lifted the head, and Ice pushed him slightly.

Keep ypur head low, or somebody would get us,’ he whispered. Frost did as he said. They passed by the bunkhouses, and Ice pushed him into one of the stores.

‘What are you doing? They’ll hang you for this.’

‘Same as youm my captain,’ Ice laughed. ‘I’m not as fool as you, and I have my alibi.’

‘Alibi? You signed up all the papers!’

‘Yes. I’m supposed to let you escape, and then I’ll follow you when you join with the enemy.’

‘What?!’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll lose your track…’

Frost looked at him blank. Ice dedicated him a cunning smile.

‘You are a deserter, my friend. You have succumbed to the charms of one of those beautiful but dangerous witches of the summer.’

‘I…’

‘You havenothing to explain. Have this, this is yours…’ And Ice drew out a congealed flower with two pearls of crystal: Rain’s tears.

‘My firend, I…’

‘In the bag you have some food, but I didn’t get your sword. You may take mine, so it’ll look like a real escape.’

Frost stared at him and hugged him tight. Ice stepped aside with a smile.

‘My friend, I don’t knoe how to thank you…’

Ice shrugged.

‘My friend… There’s been years I expected you fall in love with Snowstorm so I could marry Snowfall… She wants to marry the same day that her twin. Now I’m going to look for a boyfriend for Snowstorm…

Frost looked at him at a loss, and Ice laughed again.

‘Go away once for all. If you cross the forest, you’ll be in the frontier in two days. I’ll lose your track there…’

Frost hugged his friend once more, and without another word, he slid among the buildings to the forest and the trees.