The Afterlife Academy Saga

Chapter 4

4

There wasn’t much to do in the village. Zen had given me a long branch to use as a cane, but I’d tripped over it more than it had helped me. If I’d listened to her first warning and stayed in the cabin, I wouldn’t have been blinded by the snow. But if I hadn’t gone out, maybe I’d never have found this village and Pickles would’ve been forever lost.

I couldn’t regret my choices, not now the dust bunny was safe with me, but it certainly had been a gamble. I had to be more careful with my next decision because at the rate it was going, things weren’t turning out well for me. Just like the legends said, I was leaving a trail of doom in my wake.

“It’s cold today,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. I wished we could sit inside, but the mother was tending to Alf or something and Zen didn’t seem to mind waiting outside, even if it was snowing.

The girl next to me hummed. “It always is.”

I let out another breath, imagining it probably came out as a cloud of smoke. “Why do you live all the way up here?”

“I was born here.” She had a melodic voice, which was rather pleasant. Luckily, I couldn’t really do anything else than listen. To the sounds of the world, to her, to anything. My ears were my eyes.

I’d never noticed just how noisy everything was. The floor creaked when I walked over it, my clothes rustled when I moved, even the snow had a certain type of packing sound when it fell. None of this was foreign and yet, in a way, it was all different and new.

I fed Pickles a little piece of paper from my pocket, hoping she wasn’t too unhappy. I didn’t want to deal with a grumpy bunny and have her run away again. This was not the time.

“Brrrr.” I pulled the blanket tighter around me. If I thought it was cold home at the cliffs, this was a whole new level of freezing. “I’m bored. Is there nothing to do around here?”

“You can come with me on my rounds if you like?”

“Rounds?”

“Yes, to tend to the elderly and sick. I help take care of them,” Zen clarified.

Really? I hadn’t thought she was old enough from when I saw her.

I hugged myself again, debating what to do. Was it better to just sit here and wait, making sure to keep to myself so nobody realised I wasn’t like them? But then, wouldn’t that be odd in itself? Who wouldn’t want to repay their hospitality?

“I’ll help,” I decided, patting around me in search of my cane. I didn’t like being dependent on someone else, so even if I was struggling now, I’d figure out how to use the damn thing. This temporary blindness wasn’t going to keep me down or stop me from living my life. Even if it was only for a day, I wasn’t going to cry and wait it out. There were things that needed to be done, people to be saved, and I needed to get on with it.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” Zen offered, but I held her off.

“No, I got it.” The same shadows and spots of light danced in front of my eyes, almost like an eternal snowstorm. I was trapped in my own body, unable to do what I wanted and go where I was needed.

Cautiously, I waved the cane in front of me, searching for walls, obstacles, or little ledges. Anything that would get in my way and make me trip. I’d fallen down so many times since I woke up in the village, my entire body was battered and bruised. My elbows had to be black and blue from breaking my fall and my joints were worse for wear. This was certainly not how I imagined this trip to go…

“Which direction?” I asked Zen, shuffling slowly over the wooden floor, every step meticulously chosen. The branch waved from the left to the right, constantly searching. Even the smallest bump was enough to make me stumble and fall.

“This way,” the girl replied happily.

She was incredibly chipper and upbeat for someone that lived in this eternal cold. I’d only been here a day or two and it was making me depressed. I’d never take a hot bath or a warm room for granted after this icy wasteland.

The trip to the infirmary cabin was long and tough. From walking across the shrieky wooden floor, to moving through the flattened snow, all without being able to see or a steady handhold was an impossible task.

Blind people did this all the time? That was seriously impressive.

“Almost there,” Zen chirped.

“Not a moment too soon.” It felt like I’d been walking for ages, while in reality, it probably wasn’t more than a hundred meters. “Give me a second.”

I rubbed my eyes, the spots and flecks dancing. Blackness overtook my vision, chasing parts of the white away. Was this another effect of the snowsnare?

No, wait.

The contrast wasn’t part of my blindness, it was real. The darker area was the wooden floor, the light was the snow.

I could see!