Adras

The next day of venturing past the Tahthian wall was long and arduous despite the terrain being soft and full of snow. I liked snow. It was bright during day or night, soft, and it always had a fresh sort of smell in my nose. Away from Tahthian it was clean and free of dirt and the scent of horses, and I welcomed its fresh and crisp scent with an open nose.

Winter liked the snow, but I noticed very quickly that he was a jumpy and nervous creature. At the least, he was indifferent, at the most, he was skittish. When I spoke he would twitch in nervousness, and when I was silent he would glance at me in question. It was a never-ending cycle I dared not ask about.

Winter walks ahead of me most of the time, and I have the drawn-out moments of silence between us to imprint his form in my memory, although I am very sure it is firmly instilled already, so much so that I could go far enough to say that every pathway in my brain has his footprints.

Winter pauses. His nose twitches, even in his true form. Those burning eyes dart left to right and up and then down and then narrow. He is quiet. He is still. He is holding his breath.

Winter descends into a crouch, behind a large pine tree. I follow suit and bundle myself under a thick branch, lowering it for extra cover. Whatever he has sensed, my heart follows suit, and it thumps in my chest like a horse galloping across a field. I can feel it pumping in my ears.

Winter's eyes open wider and his breath barely mists in front of him, so small it is almost invisible and I worry he is not breathing. Wonder if he needs to. His mouth moves. I do not hear a single word.

"Irates," I hear Winter say, after a few dreadful heartbeats. It is barely a breath but it sends shivers down my spine, and I do not know what to think of this foreign word that this powerful faerie shakes at the mention of. "Great Tenivassia. I hadn't thought we would be caught in the open like this."

I have no idea what he is saying but I share his anxiety. Whatever this is, it is a faerie thing that I will never understand and can only be afraid of. I have always been taught to be afraid of things I do not know, and to be terrified of faerie things, which can only be foreign.

"What are... Irates?" I ask, frowning in thought. My skin prickles as if lightning lingers above me, and the sensation is so uncomfortable and threatening, I look up, almost in search of the telltale brightness. But the only thing that greets me is a wide open blue sky and a few white, mocking clouds.

Winter did not reply to my question, but I knew he heard it. I was not acknowledged, and while I was used to it after many years of it... the dismissal from him still burnt me.

All he did was beckon, and he slid between the shadows of pine trees like a gentle whisper. I was nowhere near as quiet and cold and collected, not the embodiment of the season he was named after, with the snow crunching under my feet, stealing the sounds Winter did not make and heaping them upon me instead.

I had a lot to adjust to. But my breath was not constricted with fear, my chest not tight with sadness. I could feel something inside of me, but I was not sure what it was. Not yet. But I was not afraid of it, despite how foreign and strange its caress within me was. I think... somehow... I was excited to get to know the unknown.

I had no glimpse of the dreaded Irates as we moved along, Winter's steps only a breath of wind, and mine slowly but surely getting softer. I held my breath as we went, as the pine needles twitched against my arms and my hair was snagged by prying plants. But I did not need to. Winter led us to safety.

While I was curious about what, exactly, we had been avoiding, Winter dodged every question by simply not gracing me with a response. I felt almost guilty, despite the lack of things to be guilty for.

Winter pauses. His icy, snow-pale hand grips a tree trunk, but not tightly. Gently. Tentative but not afraid. He glances back at me, and my breath catches.

I don't think I'll ever get used to those eyes.

"What I'm about to show you, Adras, is very important," he says. His voice is a whisper but I feel it in every fibre of my being, which I should be used to but I am not. It feels this way every time he speaks, like I am an instrument he has trilled with his fingers. But I am not the one who is being marvelled at for their melody.

I nod, my voice constricting in my throat, my breath clouding while the cold tries to snare its warmth.

Winter inclines his head a little. Just slightly, his sharp face cutting through my vision as he moves. "The fae are secretive creatures, Adras. And... I know you are not used to this. Who we are. But I have a feeling you may like it."

My ears almost twitch as a tune reaches them. A singing, almost, but not with words. A clear, crisp tune that makes me feel something that I can only describe as clarity. Bright, honest, purity. Truth in the music, happiness in the tune. I do not have words to describe it. I don't think any book could.

My voice finds me in a rush of emotion. Wariness, excitement, anxiety, confusion, anticipation. "I can hear it," I whisper. I can hardly hear my own voice, but Winter does.

His angled, thin, sharp ears twitch once, and his thin lips quirk up to one side, those burning eyes alight with amusement... and some other emotion that is more comforting than any other. Love.

But not for me. Not for someone. For something, or more than one something. And it pierces through me like a spear of realisation - Winter has left his home behind. He has not been here since he was holed up in Tahthian. And I have no idea what he risked leaving behind.

Winter beckons to me, walking forward in the snow, now making noise as his boots make contact. As if in his urgency and own excitement he has forgotten silence.

I follow him in silence, but my heart is beating fast and loudly, betraying my wishes. I cannot tear my eyes from Winter's face as emotions pass over his face, so fast and so many I can barely grasp them.

He pauses, barely glancing at me when he speaks, he is so excited for what is ahead. "Adras... welcome to my home. Welcome to The Court of Stars."