He watched the wind curl over the fresh snow, breath fogging up the window. Snowflakes collected on the windowsill, piling into a mound of delicate flakes glittering in the light from his office. The sky was darkening with the thickness of gray lying heavily between the frigid earth and the warm sun. Cold seeped through the glass, making his hands tremble despite their shelter in warm pockets.

     He turned away, closing his eyes. His vision for his rule had finally taken root. By the time the sun came out again, he would rule in absolute power. He would be king of these rich lands, all because of his dream.

      He rested a hand against the glass, seeing himself in the dim reflection. His blue eyes, so keen in their vision, stared back at him. His hair was still slicked back from the formal meeting, and he raked a hand through it to pull it back into its messy position. His smirk, so confident as always, was fading from his lips.

      He would inevitably rule. He would have legions of knights at his command, sprawling lands for his kingdom, more power than any mortal man had ever had before him. His dream, his vision, was to become a reality. He would thrive, the smartest, the richest, and the strongest. The kingdom had fallen into his hands as easily as the snowflakes outside fell to earth. So why did it leave him cold?

     He turned away, rubbing his trembling hands together to warm them. He blew on them, warm breath sweeping away the icy cold. But only for a moment. It returned, as swift and chilling as before.

     Stumbling to the side, his white hands collided with the surface of his desk. He braced himself against it, closing his eyes to block out his vision. His dream was like the breath of warmth upon a cold heart. No matter how many times he breathed on his hands, they would become cold again. They would never be warm.

      His vision, coming together now so perfectly, left him cold. Any happiness it had once brought was gone now, like a foggy breath in the chilly, night air. He pressed a hand against his forehead, shaking his head slowly. Nothing he had achieved, no amount of power, riches, or respect had stayed his insatiable greed for long.

     So sure had he been that achieving his dream, his vision of splendor, would satisfy him. That maybe, once he ruled, he could be happy. But this greed was clutching him tight, constricting around his heart and keeping it in shadow. This pain was a curse he had brought upon himself.

     He opened his eyes with a defeated sigh, turning to face the window again. His body stiffened and his heart rose into his throat as every muscle in his body tensed in fear. A creature was staring at him, head listed to one side.

     The monster was not in his office, rather a mere reflection in the frosty window. The frost was melting, dripping down the glass as the hideous creature watched him.

     Its scaled skin glowed red, horns curling from its oddly shaped head. Black hair was scattered between the horns, falling into eyes burning so bright it was as if a fire resided inside them. A twisted mouth, cracked and dry, was curved upward in a wicked smile. Only its head and shoulders were visible in the glass reflection.

     "You are searching for happiness?" The voice of the monster was as hideous and grotesque as its appearance, cracked and gravelly. It echoed oddly around the room, leaving a hint of malice underlying the tone.

      "The demons are upon me!" the man groaned, clutching at his head, fingers jerking painfully at his dark hair. His body was shaking as he fell back against the wall, hands clasped over his face as he shook his head violently from side to side.

     "I am not here to harm you," the creature said in a low voice, extending a grotesque hand towards him. "I am here to grant your wish."

     The fingers parted in front of his eyes. "You are a demon."

     "I am a wish granter," the creature's voice dripped with sympathy as tilted its head to the side. "I wish to serve. Your misery brought me here to help, not hinder. I can give you happiness."

     "You can?" He looked up, lowering his hands from his face. The room was no longer cold around him; in fact, it felt quite warm. The warmth grew around him, enveloping him like a gentle embrace. The warmth spread through his insides, making him feel as if he was glowing. The grip of greed on his heart shattered, allowing him to draw in a fresh breath of relief. And he smiled. It was a feeling he had not felt in such a long time, a warm, bubbling feeling inside of him that spread throughout his body.

      He was smiling in joy, no longer weighted beneath burdens and responsibilities, pain and frustration. He was happy. He stood on his feet, feeling lighter than ever, lighter and free.

     Then it was gone.

     In an instant, he was cold again. Weight crashed into him as if it had never left, and the smile faded from his face as everything rushed back to him. Cold seeped through his skin, biting his body even worse than before. He inhaled sharply as the shadow in his heart constricted, making him double over with a choked gasp. It was gone. All happiness was gone, joy sucked from his heart once again.

     He twisted around to stare at the demon. "You! Give it back to me! I need it, I must feel..."

     The creature held up a finger. "Every wish comes with a price tag. I have nothing to give as payment to grant you that feeling for more than a mere moment."

     "I am the richest man alive." Hands slammed as fists onto the table. "Name your price!"

      "Perhaps you've heard the saying... money cannot buy happiness." The demon shook its head almost sadly. "Money does not pay for emotion."

       "Then what? What could I give?" The man demanded, shaking all over from desperation and anger at the demon's denial. "Surely, there is something!"

     The demon took a long time considering this, even though it knew exactly what it wanted. There was one thing that could compensate for any emotion, and it was why it had come. "Your soul."

      "My... soul?" The certainty faded from the man's face. His blue eyes clouded with doubt.

     "Your soul for a lifetime of happiness. It is the only way." The demon's yellow eyes glittered as it watched him, its lips twitching into a smirk. "Your problem is the vision you have set for yourself. It restricts you... if you give up such a trivial aspect of your person, you will never feel weighted by it again. You will never feel greed for the world, never feel failure again. You will be happy."

     "If I give you my soul... you'll make me happy?" The man asked slowly, looking up again. The creature crossed a lengthy black fingernail over its chest with an assuring nod.

      "All you must do is give me your soul, and you may have one wish." It promised, its voice echoing almost hypnotically around the office. "One wish, one wish. And you will lose your burden that the reality of your vision has granted you."

     "And that will make me happy?"

      Its mouth twisted into a smile. "Of course."

     Blue eyes hardened with resolve, and his hands clenched into fists. "Tell me, demon. What must I do?"

     "Repeat what I say, and you will have a wish," it drew a nail down the glass, smiling at him. "You want a trade."

      "I want a trade."

     "My soul for a wish."

     "My soul for a wish."

     "I renounce my soul..."

     "I renounce my soul."

      "To the devil, the king of hell."

     He faltered, glancing down at his hands. He imagined feeling this way all of his life, knowing he had given up a chance at happiness. But no. He would be subject to greed no longer.

     He looked up, clenching shivering fists at his sides. "To the devil, the king of hell!"

      The temperature of the room increased dramatically. Snow melted from the windowsill, the frost on each window dribbling down the glass in tiny droplets. The lights flickered, then dimmed. His skin burned for a single moment, then it all returned to normal. The demon was gone. He was alone.

       "Wish..." a voice echoed eerily into the dim room. "Wish to remove the burden of your dream... your vision."

      He closed his eyes, setting his jaw stoically against the shaking of his hands. "I wish... I wish to remove the burden!"

      For a brief moment, a tickling feeling of happiness shot up his spine, making him grin in relief and excitement. Then it all went wrong.

      The office around him melted, dripping down and remolding. He stumbled backwards, crying out in surprise as his surroundings changed.

      A blink and he was standing in the middle of a barren field of long, brown grass. The sky above was still gray, the wind was still cold and biting. But he stood, swaying with the grass in a chilling wind. The cold sank through his clothes through his skin, eating into his bone.

      "Remove the burden, remove the burden..." The voice echoed on the breeze that tugged at his hair.

      The man stumbled, staring up at the cry sky with a shout of anger. The wind blew harder, and he steadied himself against it. "Where have you taken me? Take me back, demon!"

      "Remove the burden..." the echoing voice chanted around him, seeming to come from all directions at once. "Remove the burden of your vision!"

      He felt a sudden burning behind his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to clear it. The fiery feeling increased, enveloping both eyes. He screamed, clutching at his face as he staggered through the windy field. White hot needles were stabbing his eyes from every side, tearing through them and searing them with their intense heat.

      The cold cut into his skin, his eyes feeling like they were on fire. Then the pain ebbed, fading away into nothingness. He stood there for a long moment, gasping in an attempt to recover his breath. Then he opened his eyes.

       Darkness. He could see nothing but darkness.

       He blinked hard a few times, then opened his eyes again. He could still feel the wind of the moor through his hair, the cold stinging his skin, the swaying grass brushing over his knees. He could smell the coming rain and the dampness of the soil, hear the rustling of the wind through grass fronds. But he could see only darkness.

      He raised his hands in front of his face, unable to see them. He touched his face, choking on his fear. His hands were there. He could not see them. He could not see anything.

      Then a whisper, ever so soft on the wind yet ringing with satisfaction, breathed in his ears "Every wish comes with a price tag."

       With a scream of agony, the man dropped to his knees. He landed hard, tilting his head back to lock his clouded blue gaze on the sky he could not see. Then he fell forward, now on hands and knees amongst the grass.

       Tears of anger, pain, and most of all, regret, cascaded down his face. His body was racked with sobs of regret, shaking with cold, anger, and an unbreakable pain. He knew this was his fault. He had done this to himself.

      His dreams, his visions, had led him to a place of power, a place at the top. He had let greed overtake him as he always had, and he had made a deal with the devil, trusting a demon to give him what all the money in the world could not. He had listened to a sin and not his head, so desperate to get a taste of what he could not have.

     The thick clouds above finally gave way to rain. The rain drops joined the tears splattering the cold dirt, and the man tilted his head up towards the rain. He stared up into the sky. He stared at the sun that hid behind thick clouds. He stared at the raindrops soaking his skin. He stared at the world he could not see.

     For a man whose vision had given him the world, he had been all too blind.