We waited for the raging winter to end, but it didn't. One of us died yesterday, succumbing to the cold hands of death. We had seen him go before he did. His light, happy nature had gone silent. The harrowing winter had snuffed out the fire in his heart long before. His wife wept so hard that we knew her fire had begun to die as well.
I was chief of the land, and the village looked to me for direction and strength, but I was weary too. The heavy snow had begun to crush houses in the village, forcing several families into the unforgiving cold. I took them in and now had five families sharing my little hut. I loved how my wife didn't object and helped provide warmth as much as she could to the children.
We had no food, and the children cried in pain as pangs of hunger tormented them. I saw the tears in my wife's eyes as well as the other mothers in the hut. Though the fire at the centre of the hut still burned, I saw the embers of their fire withering away.
Fear gripped me as an image of my wife's lifeless body, blue from the winter's cold, flashed in my mind. I stood to my feet hurriedly, vowing within myself that I would cause the winter to end no matter what had to be done.
I beckoned on one of the men who still had strength left, telling him to go and summon all the men of the village. He went and returned shortly with a dozen men, their eyes gleaming with the tiny embers of hope they had left. We had seen how feeble human life was, for we had a few dozen men before the winter came.
"The winter must end," I said when the men had settled down. I could hear the sighs of the mothers and the painful wails of the children. We had lost so many children that the villagers no longer cried when another departed into the white winter. They would just stare at the dead, hearing the same abyss call out to them. It only took a surrender to be taken into death's embrace.
"This winter must end," I repeated.
The men sighed and waited for me to speak. They knew I wouldn't have summoned them if I had nothing to say. Those who know me well could tell I was about to say something dangerous. My wife shook her head slowly, telling me silently not to say anything rash, but I had made up my mind.
"I will go out into the winter." I declared.
I saw my wife's eyes widen, but I quickly looked away. She had eyes that could turn a man away from a decision, but I was willing to give my life to preserve her own. There was a weak uproar among the men. They didn't understand why their leader would suddenly venture out to die. They expressed their confusion and disagreement.
"I'm sure you all know winter has never been this long. I have concluded that there must be something behind this winter, and I will appeal to it or kill it, whichever the case may be. I cannot allow this madness to continue anymore." I gravely addressed the audience.
There was a brief silence. Every man pondered on what I had said. By calculation, we had spent a year in white winter. We saw no other season, and to claim it wasn't supernatural would be naïve. Another man stood up, making his intentions to follow clear.
"I must go alone. Survival is uncertain, and I will not allow good men to die. Protect the village and keep hunting. I will not be long." I withstood the loyal man who wanted to accompany me. The harsh weather would make it hard to survive, but the fire burning in my heart would keep me going. My wife had to live no matter the cost.
I dismissed the men, who spoke nothing to me but their eyes screamed respect and gratitude. They departed to their respective huts, conversing quietly amongst themselves. My wife waited for the men to leave before stealing to my side. Her eyes were like those of a widow. She didn't expect me to return.
"Habibi, please— I'm lost without you. Please don't leave." She pleaded gently and my heart wavered.
"Habibti, if I don't do this, we will die. We haven't caught any animal in a month, and nothing rises from the ground. This world dies every day. I will not lose you to the winter."
I reminded myself why I wanted to venture out as I tried to convince her. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and when I looked close enough, I could see how hard the winter had dealt with her. Her smooth features had been replaced with edges. My heart broke, but my convictions were strengthened. I could feel the heat of the flames within me.
My wife helped me as I gathered all I needed to venture out. I donned multiple layers of clothes like a shield and took a weapon for hunting. My wife said nothing more, and it made me anxious. If I didn't return sooner, she would succumb to the call of the abyss.
At the edge of the village, the men had gathered. They waited patiently for my wife and me to arrive there, despite the cold. They saluted with respect and honour, each having lost one family member or more. They knew someone had to do something. They were grateful I was willing to lay my life down.
They called out the warrior chant with the strength they had left, and my heart warmed. I saluted them and turned to my wife, whose tears had frozen and left white streaks on her face. I hugged her, whispering promises I didn't believe I could fulfil. She wept harder because she didn't believe them too.
I gave her one last squeeze and turned away. I couldn't bear to leave if I looked at her one more time. I began my journey to the north, despite the tormented wails of my wife behind me.
(End of part one.)
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