Lost Lighte

Chapter 5 (part 2)

From that day forward, Tilya had spent a majority of her free time visiting that tall ash tree. She had used some of the profit from her farming to purchase two pairs of fleece-lined trousers in her size, along with a woolen scarf. That would be the one big purchase she’d make for the next few months.

Each day, after tidying the cabin and tending to her farm, she would walk to that clearing in the woods, climb up the ash tree, and stare out into the mountains.

She didn’t know if it was because of the nightmare she had, but she had recently been compelled to sit on that branch and lose herself to her daydreams. Though instead of lying on a crystalline altar in a glowing cavern that could only ever exist in the fae realms, she was dancing at a grand ball in a magnificent billowing gown with a mysterious masked stranger. Sometimes their outfits were coordinated, and sometimes the stranger was wearing all black while she was an image of glittering white. A ghost floating among the crowd.

Tilya’s thoughts drifted to Althea. She hadn’t seen her friend since the day they did the tarot reading. A chill went down her spine at her recollection of the death card she had pulled and her mind flashed back to the hellish monsters from her nightmare looming over her naked body. She shook her head of the image. Althea had tried to make her feel better about it, but it was pointless.

Tilya wondered if the nightmare she had was related to her reading.

She sighed, swinging her legs back and forth over the branch she sat on, and watched the flakes of snow fall down from the sky and land on top of her beige lap. Lifting a gloved hand, she inspected the flake that fell atop it, appreciating the intricate beauty of the frozen drop of water.

The longer she stared, the more entranced she became with it, and suddenly she found she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

It seemed as if she could hear voices whispering to her-- men, women, and children spoke simultaneously all around as the noises from the outside world faded, though they were speaking too quickly and indistinctly for Tilya to understand what they were saying.

She furrowed her brows as she could have sworn the snowflake begin to shift in her hand. Not melt, but turn into something else entirely. The longer she stared at the flake, the louder the voices became. Her skin buzzed and grew hot all over.

Before she could make out what the snowflake was trying to morph into, the blood-curdling scream of a woman pierced through the air. Tilya blinked, breaking concentration, and snapped her head up in the direction of the noise. Somewhere far north in the forest, towards the mountains.

Instantly, the sounds around her returned; the chirping of the birds in the trees; the gusts of wind that streamed by, tree branches clanking together; and the crunching of leaves and snow that sounded from below her.

Whatever heat her body had been gathering vanished into icy cold as she turned her attention to the ground. Staring up at her was a man clad in dark trousers, worn leather boots, and multiple layers of tunics. Lukas.