Chapter One: In Which Strange Things Are Found in the Snow
he slid through the woods on silent feet, the smell of the pine trees overtaking her senses. Snow filtered down through the needled branches, covering the ground beneath her. This was her territory, her home away from home. The pine forest that separated her small city from the rest of the world was her sanctuary from the bustling streets of the city. No one ever bothered her here, and, when the snow wasn't falling, the animals were her closest friends. Moriko Shaw had picked her career well-- as a forester in the northern region she spent most of her days among snow, animals, or both.
But that winter, just as Sagittarius was turning to Capricorn, something strange would come to her isolated city.Though she didn't know it yet, all of their lives would be changed-- every life on that continent would be irreparably altered. Already, the machine was in motion.
Daylight was turning to dusk, and the snow was falling heavily when Moriko finally decided to turn home before the storm turned into a blizzard. It was then, through the thick fall of snow, that she spotted him.
She might not have noticed him at all had it not been for his dark hair. He was dressed in white fur, purposefully camouflaged with the snow. A white knit hat lay near his hand, along with a painted white case of some sort.
She trudged into the snow bank, one hand resting lazily on the pommel of the sword that hung at her waist. She did not know if he was friend or foe, and she was taking no chances-- it was rare to find strangers within the pine forest, and even more rare to find strangers so close to the Hidden City. This far north was difficult to penetrate, especially once cold months had set in.
Moriko reached his side and knelt, one hand still on her sword as she checked his wrist for a pulse.
At the man's waist hung a strange, long, straight sword, painted all white. When she had pushed back his coat and glove to reach his wrist she paused. His wrist was scored with several strange, fresh burn marks. She pressed her fingers over his wrist anyway. His pulse was there, and it was strong.
Moriko sighed. He didn't seem dangerous. She shook the man's shoulder. "Hello? Sir?" Her voice was soft, and it seemed irreconcilable with her people's rough language.
Despite his pulse, he looked as good as dead. His face was pale, and his lips had a blue tinge to them, half-parted and chapped, with newly-formed scabs where they had bled from dryness.
The wind howled, pulling strands of long brown hair out of Moriko's tight braids. She couldn't stay in the forest with a blizzard coming, but she certainly couldn't leave him behind, either.
"I don't know who you are," she whispered to the man, "But I suppose I must help you."
She took the white case from the ground and stuffed it into her pack, then gathered the stranger in her arms. "Don't expect a nice welcome though," she murmured, guarding his face with her cloak. The going was slow.
The hidden city of Lokgil was surrounded on all sides by the pine forest. Houses made of both stone and wood lined streets that branched off of the main square. There was no ruler here, merely a council that met once in a long while to discuss the major happenings such as chicken stealings and the latest blizzard. Because the town was so far north there were no farms, but every house had its own vegetable patch and herb garden. The people of the city thrived on the animals from the forest. Their only competition were the wolves that came down from the mountains to hunt.
When Moriko entered the town square it was deserted. It was supper time. The town always ate meals at the same time. She swore under her breath -- her father was going to kill her. She hurried down the side street to the ramshackle house that her huge family lived in. The main floor was made of stone, with only three rooms, but three floors had been added on when the family had grown. She was the oldest of nine children.
"Mother!" she called as she pushed the door open with her foot. The front room was deserted, but the sounds of children filtered through the far door from the back room where the family was dining. She settled the man on a padded bench that sat against the farthest wall, then covered him with a blanket. Pulling off her overcoat and hanging it on the only empty peg by the door among all of the children's coats, she called again, "Mother!"
But it was not her mother who entered the room. It was her father, and Moriko froze, midway through removing her soaked boots.
"You're late, young lady," the man bellowed.
"I know, father," Moriko answered calmly, quietly.
"Where were you?"
"In the woods. There is a storm coming, and it delayed me," she explained.
"Bah! A storm? You've used that excuse far too many times, girl!"
"Froderich, come back to the table. You are scaring the children with all of your yelling." Moriko's mother poked her head around the door to the back room. "Come back to the table, Frod."
Froderich shook his head in exasperation and shoved his way past his wife and into the other room.
Nelia Shaw moved into the room. Unlike Froderich, she had spotted the man resting limply under the blanket in her front room.
"Who is he, Mori?" Nelia whispered, grabbing hold of her oldest child's shoulder.
"I found him in the woods. He would have died in the blizzard, so I brought him here," Moriko explained softly.
"But . . . but he's an outsider!" Nelia gasped, and added wearily, "Your father will be furious."
"Let him stay for now," Moriko insisted. "Until he wakes up, then we can decide what to do with him."
Nelia nodded slowly. "Come to supper, Mori."
Moriko followed her mother into the back room, leaving the man unattended, asleep by the front room's hearth and the crackling fire.
As predicted, Froderich was livid when Nelia and Moriko told him about the strange man she had brought back from the woods.
"You'll take him back out there, missy, he doesn't belong here," he shouted.
But Moriko stood firm. "There is a blizzard outside, father. I will not let him die because we refuse to offer him shelter."
"You'll do as you're told!" Froderich exclaimed.
Bella, the youngest of three daughters in the family, pulled on the hem of her father's tunic. "Why can't the man stay, Daddy? He's asleep, he can't do anything."
Froderich pulled his tunic out of the child's grasping fingers. "Go to your rooms, all of you," he ordered the other children.
"But, Father, the sun has only just set . . ." Cole, the oldest of six boys, began.
"Go to your rooms, now!" Froderich bellowed.
The children trudged into the kitchen and up the stairs to the next floor. The chandeleir, which was basically a hanging iron ring of candles, shook from its chains as they thumped around upstairs.
"Bella is right, Father. He is unconscious; he can't do any harm," Moriko murmured.
Froderich sighed and sat back in his chair, the wood creaking as he shifted his weight. "You'll answer for him, girl. If he does anything wrong, then it will be your fault."
"I accept that responsibility," Moriko agreed.
"Mori . . ." Nelia began, but Froderich cut her off with a raised hand.
"He is stays only for the night. He must be out by noon tomorrow."
Moriko nodded.
"Now, get out of my sight." Froderich turned away from her.
----
Further edits may be forthcoming. smile This is a collaborative work, so I have to wait for my partner's feedback before I can hack and chop any more than what I've done so far.
This first bit is almost completely her, since my character is currently passed out, likely drowning in a puddle of his own spit.
