A New Friend

A New Friend

Smoke trailed from the red brick chimney that was attached to the east side of the cabin. Snow began to pummel down atop its roof and the winds swirled and mixed the flakes. Everything outside was dull white or dark grey. The midday seemed to be late evening, and the storm held no signs of letting up. Inside the cabin however, the fire roared, and everything was bright and warm. Shayna's father worked at preparing their meal, which would've been lunch, but was more like supper, seeing as how they wouldn't be leaving the house anytime soon and would probably go to bed early.

"Alright, it's settled. I'll read to you as soon as I'm done. I'm going to get started," said Shayna's father, who walked towards the door and unlatched it, making his way towards the chiller. He came back in, latching the door with his free hand and carrying a part of a deer carcass in his other over his shoulder. He went to the fireplace, set down the half-carcass, and began to prepare it for cooking with the knife that'd been attached to the side of his belt.

Shayna watched him prepare the meat, noticing how precisely and quickly he made his cuts. He knew exactly what he was doing. He always knew exactly what he was doing. Shayna had never seen him clueless as to what to do—in any situation. Not once, until the reindeer. It was, in its own right, a very comical phenomena to Shayna.

Her father continued his work without pausing to look up, and all the while Shayna grew bored. Knowing it would be a while until her father finished, she decided she needed to do something with her energy. She thought that maybe she'd draw a little bit and walked over to the corner of the cabin, farthest from the door, where her bed was. Once again the firelight was causing shadows to flicker around the cabin walls. Shayna looked to them for a moment, but then decided to lie down on her bed and reached over to grab a sketchbook her father had given her; along with a variety of different colored pencils she'd also been given. She'd already filled four other sketchbooks of the same size full with different drawings, and was nearing the final pages of the fifth she held in her hands. She flipped through her book and paused to look at one she liked particularly.

In the beginning of the book, she'd sketched and colored a very large cityscape. It was a depiction of The Viendas, which were the stores in the centermost area of the city of which they were a part of. The city was named Hemisturn and was placed right in the center of the world. Such place she'd but only seen a picture of a few times in one of her father's large books. The "center of the world" the book had referred to was meant to describe the city in perspective of the four regions, which took up each direction on her father's map. North was Et Norticine, which of course meant Nortisha. East was Ep Bluene, or Riviera, meaning The Blue. It was named according to its large amounts of natural springs, rivers, and the ocean it opened up to in the furthest east. West was Sen Brit, or Starland, meaning The Bright. It was also named according to its nature, which was so because of the amount of stars that could be seen in the night sky in comparison to the other regions. Shayna's father had told her it was very beautiful and read that, unlike the other regions, none of the stars in the sky ever moved. They remained constant and unwavering, and had been that way as long as anyone could remember. It was truly a phenomenon.

And then there was Den Sekrin. The South. In itself the name Den Sekrin roughly meant The Lost. It referred to the perceived feeling of despair one was supposedly said to endure when traveling through, though Shayna had read that hardly any could actually make it through those lands. They were desolate, filled with deserts and occupied for more than three-quarters of the day with darkness. Warmth was said to be scarce, and only a sorry few lived there anymore. Shayna had asked her father once to why The South was so much worse than the other regions, but he refused to give her a clear answer, stating "It's simply a bad place, Shayna. It's just the way it is." The answer wasn't a surprise, to say the least, was no shock.

She was still looking at the drawing she'd made of Hemisturn. She remembered how she'd decided to copy it down from memory, more or less. The picture portrayed the view of somebody standing inside a tall building on the second story, looking down upon a descending street, which snaked its way downhill, away from the viewer. Huge buildings stood on either side of the street, which was paved out of light tan bricks. The buildings were all a grey color, and extremely old. Huge amounts of architectural design covered each one, giving most an old-fashioned and important look. The designs depicted a huge deal, varying from examples of common life in the city to amazing scenes only viewable from the outskirts of society. Shayna actually managed to capture much of it in her drawing, and it showed wonderfully. She was a fantastic drawer and spared herself no expense in time. Each top portion of the buildings had sets of large, square and oval shaped windows, all matching each other. They were tinted slightly, and they all appeared only a little darker than the sets of clear windows, which covered the ground floors of the buildings below. On the tan snaked street were crowds of people who walked on each side as they pleased with no obvious order, searching through The Viendas for various items they wanted to purchase. Shayna remembered reading about all of the different shops. There were shops that sold clothing, food, candies, decorations, books and papers, medicines, and a ton of different things. The Viendas were said to be one of the most diverse and richest places to shop at in Hemisturn, but Shayna could hardly wrap her mind around any of that. All of it seemed strange to her. She'd never bought or sold anything. Everything was either given from her father or found out in the woods around her home. To Shayna, it was as simple as that; everything else in pictures or her drawings seemed alien, except for the lights.

In the picture she'd copied there were hundreds of little lights: red, green, and white, which hung overhead the second stories of the buildings with the slightly tinted windows, all attached by a kind of string. The people there were celebrating a holiday, the name of which Shayna had forgotten. She remembered that it was near the end of the year and lasted a long time. She decided she'd ask her father about it and set down her notepad alongside her pencils next to her bed. She hurried over to where her father was. He'd finished cutting up the deer and was roasting it with a skewer that lay upon two tall metal stakes on the edges of the fire. The smell of the roasting deer began to fill the cabin, and Shayna's mouth started to water. It was almost trance-inducing and she was really hungry. It almost made her forget her question, but she managed to remember.

"Hey, Papa, what's that holiday called? The one they have every year in Hemisturn."

"The holiday? Well, they have many holidays there, little one. I expect they do still celebrate them all. You're probably speaking of Et Fennisted Patrinnot, I'd guess. That's the largest. It's the Holy Week, meant for celebration of the death of a man named Emminutd. It takes place right at the end of the year."

"Is it the one where they use lots of lights on all the buildings?" asked Shayna.

"Yes! That's the one."

"So who's Emminutd?"

"Well," began her father, "he was a prophet, regarded for his insight into the mind and spirit. He was, and still is, said to be sent from The-One-Who-Is-And-Will-Be, the one who created all of us. I've taught you about him, though."

It was true. Shayna had been told about The-One-Who-Is-And-Will-Be, though she still didn't quite understand who he, or she, was. She had asked before, but her father had responded to her in his usual way by telling her that she would be able to understand better when she was older.

"Many argue he was nothing more than a madman, Emminutd," continued her father. "He was said to have turned the entire city against itself."

"Well, how'd he do that?" asked Shayna perkily.

"Well, half believed what he would teach about the secrets of human existence, the road to happiness and eternal love, and the other half thought it was all nonsense. He was also a very non-violent man and preached the same. The people of the city though, most of them, threw all of that out the window when they attempted to join his "cause", as they saw it. They began to threaten, harm, and even kill those who didn't believe in what Emminutd believed. But this was not what he preached, and Emminutd continued his preaching more and more and, despite the violence that began to occur around him, never harmed anyone. He'd hoped to return everything to order, but sadly, the hatred amongst the people had simply become too much. He turned to his prayers, though their effects extended only so far."

"The people of the city had formed two major parties, neither practicing Emminutd's original teachings. They'd forgotten it all and followed on with their own agendas, only caring about the progression of their newly founded societies, as they were. They were called The Reds and The Whites. The names were symbolic of the clothing each member of the society wore regularly to represent which party they supported. They didn't even really have anything strong to fight for, except themselves! Supposedly, The Reds supported Emminutd, despite their failure to actually support him. The Reds, on the other hand, only cared about ridding the city of The Whites, who they saw as threatening. They were complete non-believers, who wanted their city to return to its original "sanity." They deemed the teachings of Emminutd terrible and hypocritical things, though they did so incorrectly, basing their judgments upon the actions of The Whites rather than the actual teachings of Emminutd. This was the cause of Et Vrenga fer Hemisturn. The Hemisturn War.

"Well, what did Emminutd preach?"

"That, my little one, is the question! It's been handed down from one century to the next and time has been shown to badly preserve it. The people who believed in what he did handed it down and it has been shaped by their desires. The true teachings once preached are now lost, though I believe some aspects of it still remain. Things like peace and conscious, rational decision-making. You'll learn more when you get older, anyhow." Her father went back to cooking, looking away from Shayna.

"Oh…" said Shayna. "Well, then did The Reds lose?"

Her father laughed. "So many questions, little one. You're so curious! No, they won."

"Then how could Emminutd have died?"

"The Whites captured him secretly at the end of the war to spite The Reds. They took him and then killed him by hanging him from a large bell tower right in the center of Hemisturn, now called Et Trestenumd fer Emminutd, which means The Saddness of Emminutd, for he was truly saddened by what had occurred to the city. It was a grieving day, and the bell tower still remains as a memorial of him.

"Were you there then, Papa?"

"Me? Oh, no, little one! He's been dead quite a long time. That's why the people of the city can celebrate The Holy Week now. There are none who persecute them. Through many generations, the tension between The Reds and what remained of The Whites, as they were, lessened, and now the day is simply a reminder of a great prophet, who was an inspirational and truly kind man. To me, Shayna, I do not know it is enough, to just celebrate him because of his kindness. I think it should be more important to celebrate the message he brought, not only to remember and cherish that everybody should be kind towards one another, but also to celebrate The-One-Who-Is-And-Will-Be, who is called Et Beautins as well, meaning The Benevolence Of The Norticine. After all, that is what the prophet had wanted, what he had pushed to be known and believed."

"Papa, I'm starting to think you know almost everything."

Her father laughed. "Well, almost. I'm just open-minded. I listen a lot."

"Open-minded?" asked Shayna. "What do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of people have their own way of living and don't like to change it for one way or the other."

"Papa, you do the same thing every day of the week! I'd say you don't like to change the way you do things either!"

"Ha! Well, isn't that true? What I mean is changing beliefs or accepting certain things. You'll understand when you're older, little one."

"So, that's why they hang up all of those pretty lights?" asked Shayna, ignoring her father's comment about her age.

"For Et Beautins? Yes!" answered her father.

"Hmm… I like it," decided Shayna.

Her father smiled. "Here, I'm done cooking. Let's eat and then I'll finish that story for you. I expect I'll be much too tired to do anything else today after that, though."

"Me too!" said Shayna, the fire burning largely. The smell of the cooked deer was too much, she had to eat, but remarked to her father before she did, "don't fall asleep before you read to me! I need to know what happens!"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, little one. I will fulfill my promise. Here," he said taking off a piece of meat from the skewer with his large silvery knife. He placed it onto a plate he'd grabbed from a nearby standing cupboard and then handed it to Shayna. "Tell me how it is."

Shayna went to the standing cupboard with plate in hand. She reached for a knife and fork. Sitting down next to the fire, she began eating, cutting her food quickly and efficiently. In that way, she was just like her father. Precise and careful, though maybe a bit too fast.

"Little one," he said between mouthfuls. "Slow down!"

"Sorry," she replied back between her mouthfuls. "I'm really hungry!"

"You're not joking!" her father laughed.

They finished eating and put their dishes and silverware away. Shayna ran over to where she usually sat when her father read to her, which was right in front of his large wooden rocking chair. She waited for him patiently, though the anticipation of hearing about what would happen to Little Pink and her friends was killing her. She was eager to know what the darkness would be like and what it would do. Who would save them? Would they figure out something on their own, or would somebody come to their aid? There were so many questions and she preoccupied herself with them, her anticipation growing more and more. She called to her father, who was retrieving the book from the wooden bookcase. It was on the very top, which was, despite Shayna's father's good height, nearly out of reach. He had to stand on his tip toes to reach it.

"Papa! Hurry up, I wanna hear it!"

"Now, little one, be patient. I've nearly got it, just let me…" he reached up and grabbed the book, making his way over to the rocking chair.

"Alright," said her father, finally sitting down and crossing his legs. "Here we are now." He flipped to the correct page.

"We were at the part where all of them run into Little Pink's home," remarked Shayna.

"Yes, they were inside the cabin." He scanned through the page with his forefinger, jumping into the story. "And when they'd all just gotten inside, they shut the door! 'Quickly now!' said Little Pink's mother. 'Hurry, close the windows!' They latched shut all of the windows." Her father turned a page.

"Although they didn't know what all of the darkness was, they had a feeling it wasn't any good. They were right," her father looked up to Shayna and shook his head. "It was all bad."

"What's gonna happen, Papa?"

"Patience, little one," he said, finding his place. "You're luck I'm patient."

"Yeah, okay. What happens?" she asked, waving his comment away.

He grinned. "Well, little one, what happened next was that the entire roof flew off! The darkness had ripped it wide open and tossed the pieces out around the outside of the house! There was nowhere to run for them now and nowhere to hide. They were trapped!"

Outside of the house the storm was brewing, the air tossing about larger snowflakes. Some of it had begun to accumulate atop the roof of the cabin. The day was progressing and more snow, and newly formed hail chunks, were beginning to hurl down.

There was a thump on the roof of the cabin. Shayna jumped in a bit of fright. "Papa, what was that?"

Her father stopped reading and looked up to the ceiling. Nothing was visibly different from within the cabin. "I don't know, little one."

He set down the book on the small wooden table to his right, leaving it opened to the page he'd been reading. He stood up. The rocking chair creaked and rocked back and forth with the momentum he'd put into it. It wavered there for a long while, and neither of them moved even a bit for fear of what might come, whatever it was. The rocking chair made creaks, which seemed to grow louder and louder. Shayna was trying to stay calm.

Creak…creak…creak…

"Papa, what is it?" she whispered worriedly.

"Shhh." Her father put one finger up to his mouth. "Quiet, little one."

Nothing. Quiet. Everything was still. Even the rocking chair had stopped moving. The only moving thing was the fire burning within the fireplace. It crackled and sizzled, blazing forth a wave of light; the only thing illuminating the cabin. The little shadows on the walls still danced, but to Shayna's imagination they were no longer so appealing. She didn't want to create little stories for the little people she no longer saw in them, she just wanted them to stop. She thought of Little Lively Pink Cheeks and her friends and family. She thought of how they'd been trapped by the darkness, how there had been nothing to do, nowhere to run. Was that like this? She grew more and more frightened at the thought. Eventually, she spoke again.

"Papa, wha—."

There was a louder thump on the roof and Shayna became silent. They didn't move. They only stood and waited. After a while, there was another noise, followed quickly by a heap of snow, which traveled downwards into the chimney and landed straight on top of the fire. There was a loud sizzling noise and a soft "phuh"! The fire was completely smothered. Everything went black.

Shayna screamed. Her father grabbed her quickly and covered her mouth. They couldn't see at all and Shayna's father knew he had to calm her down.

"Shayna. Shayna!" he said in a hushed yell. "Shhh, it's alright. Listen to me, this is very important!"

She quieted down, beginning to tear up. "But what's happening, Papa? Wh-what if—."

"Shhhh. Listen to me. You're still wearing all of your hunting gear?

"Yes," she sniffled.

"Okay, little one. I need you to hand me your knife. Can you do that for me?"

She handed him her knife quickly. She was sobbing a little, but had quieted down. She trusted her father to know what to do. She had to. She'd never been so surprised and frightened at the same time in her whole life.

"Follow me." They walked carefully towards where the front door was and stood to the right of it. Shayna's father had the knife in his hand, blade pointed to the floor. His free hand was just centimeters away from the wall, hovering next to it and near the door. He looked back to Shayna and began to whisper.

"Shayna. Listen to me now more than ever. I need to go outside. Stay here and stay calm. Okay?"

Shayna whimpered a little. She was terrified and shook her head. It didn't matter whether or not she agreed anyways, only that she heard and remembered what he had to say before anything else happened.

"Shayna, whatever or whoever is out there, if something happens to me, you run. You run as fast as you can until you reach the train, do you understand? The storm will hide you from sight. Don't stop until you've reached the railroad and if the train isn't there then follow the tracks southward. I know you know which direction to go. Do you remember how to reach the railroad tracks?"

Shayna had only been there a few times, but she remembered and answered back, barely able to muster out, "Yes."

"Good. Just run east until you see it. Now, I'm going to open a window. Back up a little, little one."

Shayna backed up, allowing her father to reach the window right of the front door. He remained in the same position, knife held tightly in one hand and the other hovering directly next to the cabin wall. He reached over to the window and unlatched it, cracking it open just a tiny bit. He peered outside.

"What do you see?" asked Shayna.

Her father said nothing. He watched a moment longer and then slowly closed the window and latched it back. He remained there, frozen and unmoving. His breath seemed slower and nearly non-existent. He was waiting.

"Papa, what's out there?"

"Nothing," he responded. "Nothing in front. Whatever it is, it's on the roof. I need to go check."

"No!" said Shayna desperately. "Don't leave me, just stay here!" She wasn't openly crying, but she was starting again, an outburst of tears filling her eyes.

"Shayna," started her father who kneeled down to her. "Don't cry, shhh. Listen, listen. You need to be strong, okay? Understand? You need to trust me and let me do what I'm good at. Nothing is going to happen to you, okay?"

Shayna breathed in and choked back her tears. She nodded.

"Good. Now, I'll be right back, little one."

"Promise?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Of course I promise. Remember, I always keep my promises."

Shayna was reassured. Her father had never once let her down, and despite the terrifying circumstances she found herself in, she believed he'd keep his promise. Her father was a man of his word and he knew when to make his promises.

"Okay. Shayna, do good. Stay here and don't look outside. I'll be right back."

He got up from his knee, opened the front door, and walked out. The wind was blowing snow all around outside and Shayna could see it pushing towards him her father's hair as he moved against it. Snow battered the ground outside loudly and the wind howled relentlessly. He closed the door behind him, leaving Shayna alone in the silence.

The only noise was the sound of Shayna trying to get a grip on herself, crouching down near the door. She couldn't see her father and she couldn't hear the storm at all. Once more, nothing moved and nothing stirred inside the cabin. Only Shayna remained within, anxious and weary. She wanted to listen to her father's warnings, but she couldn't just wait inside while he was out there. She had to see what was happening. Standing on her tip toes, she reached over for the window's latch and unlocked it. She tugged it open very slightly and slowly, waiting a moment. A small amount of moonlight trickled in outside through the tiny crack she made. She breathed in and out in tiny breathes, trying to quiet her breath as her father had done. She tried at this for moments, attempting to build up the courage to look, and finally, she moved her head over and did.

She saw nothing. She heard nothing. The storm was all but completely gone and only a few flurries remained of it. It would have been a relief if she only knew where her father was. She shut the window and latched it, causing the cabin to become completely dark again. She stood there for a minute, trying to think of what to do. Her father had been gone for a long while and she didn't want to wait any longer. The wondering and the pondering were too much. She had to find him, whatever happened.

Shayna made her way to the front door, walking on her tip toes to quiet herself. She unlatched the door and stood hesitantly, eventually moving to open it. She walked outside into the night. The snow flurries still came down, but only slowly. The moon illuminated the dark clouds overhead, which covered most of the sky. Shayna looked up. It was supposed to be a little past midday, not midnight. Just as the darkness had closed in on Little Pink, so it was too on Shayna.Shayna. She couldn't believe it and for the second time that day, she was amazed, but terrified. Once again, in the blink of an eye, everything she'd ever thought of the world had shifted. She thought of the reindeer for a moment, but quickly remembered her father and, despite her fear, or perhaps because of it, called out to him.

"Papa! Papa, are you there?"

There was no response. Shayna yelled more desperately than ever. "Papa! Where are you?!"

"Shayna?!" he called out. "Are you out here, little one? Shayna, look up here!"

Shayna turned around and looked up above the cabin. Atop the roof stood not only her father, but the white reindeer with its tiny antlers and bright shining red nose. It was even brighter in the dark. Shayna was shocked.

"What's going on, Papa?!"

"Shayna, it's okay! It's only this little guy again! He knocked in some snow from the top of the chimney."

Shayna was perplexed, but still managed to correct him. "It's a girl, Papa."

"What?" he said flustered. "Oh, right. A girl, of course! How could I forget?" He laughed in relief. "Well, come up here with us! It's beautiful. I don't know how he—she—did it, but it seems that our midday has now become, miraculously enough, midnight!"

Shayna yelled back, still feeling uneasy. "Uh… are you sure I should go up there, Papa?"

"Yeah, it's quite alright, Shayna! Just use the small blocks of wood that jut out of the side of the cabin here, little one. It's not very difficult to climb and I'll help you up if you need it!"

"Okay!" replied Shayna, biting her lip.

Shayna walked over to the side of the house and began to climb up the wood, which crisscrossed with the other lengths of wood comprising the front of the cabin. The crisscrossing caused small cylinders of wood to stick out of each side of the corner of the cabin, which made it much easier to climb. Shayna's father peered over the side, waiting for her.

"Wait, Shayna, go inside again! I need you to grab that pink stone from the fireplace. I want to try something."

"Now?" asked Shayna, who was nearly half way up.

"Yes!" yelled down her father. "It'll just take a moment. I want to try something!"

Shayna sighed. "Alright!" She turned herself around, bending her knees to jump off.

"Oh, wait! Don't jump, Shayna!"

Shayna looked around frantically, turning back around and latching to the wood. "Why? What's wrong?"

Shayna's father held up the stone in his hand, grinning. "Forgot. I put it in my pocket."

Shayna exhaled shakily. "Papa… don't do that!"

"Sorry, little one!" he yelled back. "Hurry up and get up here! This should be very interesting.

Shayna's father reached out his hand for her to grab as she reached the top. Shayna climbed over the edge and stood next to him. "Alright, let's give this a go," said her father. "Hey, big guy!" he called up to the reindeer, waving his arms. "Come back down a minute!"

Shayna shook her head. "Papa…"

"What?"

"Watch!" Shayna nudged her father to stop and cupped her hands to her mouth. "Come here, little girl! We just want to see you!"

The reindeer looked down at them for a moment, but then began to fly away quickly to the east. "Hm...," muttered Shayna. "I thought she'd listen to me." The reindeer darted east and quickly disappeared into the clouds.

"Where'd she go?" asked Shayna.

"I don't know…"

"Do you think she's coming back?"

"I don't know, Shayna… she sped off pretty quickly. I'd say—duck!"

In a flash the reindeer descended on top of the roof, zooming directly above them. She slowed down rapidly and landed lightly, causing the thinner, top level of snow to whirl around her.

The snow flew up into Shayna's eyes, but quickly dissipated, returning again to the roof. "Wow," said Shayna. "You're so fast." She walked over to the reindeer and patted it on its head, careful not to touch its antlers.

"Well, look at that! It looks like you have a new friend now!" remarked her father.

"Yeah…," said Shayna excitedly. "She's amazing! Can we keep her?"

Her father smiled. "No, I don't think so, little one. I don't think we can hold her back from going anywhere, but if she decides to stick around, then that's that. Here," he said, handing the stone to Shayna. "I think you should do this. Put the stone up to her nose."

"What's gonna happen?" she asked.

Her father shrugged. "I don't know, but we'll find out."

Shayna petted the top of its head again and gently placed the stone to its shining red nose. The stone and nose glowed brilliantly together, letting out a small aurora of light that circled around the reindeer's nose. After a moment the dull pink stone grew to a brilliant scarlet color, and the reindeer's nose grew even redder. The reindeer waited patiently for Shayna's father to finish. Shayna and her father stared at it, watching the stone change from dull pink to bright scarlet over and over.

She held it there for moments, allowing it to change colors a variety of times, when suddenly a huge burst of light shot outwards towards her and her father! A beam then shot through the middle, between the reindeer's nose and the stone, straight up into the sky, bright red and tremendous. Shayna's father shielded his eyes and stepped back from the reindeer, but Shayna stayed where she was, watching the beam.

"Shayna!" yelled her father. "Drop the stone!"

Shayna could barely hear him. The beam went high into the clouds and beyond. She was mesmerized.

"Shayna!" yelled her father again. He ran up to her, shielding his eyes, and knocked the stone from her hand.

The stone dropped to the ground. The beam and the burst subsided and the only thing that remained was the reindeer. It stood where it had been and seemed to be completely unaffected.

Shayna snapped out of her daze and spoke first. "What just happened?"

Her father was sprawled out on the ground and took a moment to answer. "Little one… give me that stone."

The reindeer began moving again. It ran towards the edge of the cabin and, abruptly, flew off into the sky. Just as it had come, it left all the same. They watched its red nose for minutes until they could no longer see it, and then looked back to the roof. The stone lay on the roof near Shayna, now shining a very bright scarlet. It began to snow again, falling faster and faster, slightly blurring Shayna's vision. Shayna picked it up, turning to her father and looking down at it.

"Papa, can I keep it?"

"No," said her father quickly, snatching the stone from her hand.

"Papa! What are you doing?"

Her father stuffed the stone into his coat pocket, not looking directly at Shayna. "The storm is coming back. We need to get inside." He grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her towards the corner of the roof.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Just listen to me, Shayna. Go!"

Shayna felt like she was about to cry, but listened to her father. Shayna looked at the sky on her way down. It was growing darker and darker. She hurried over to the side and began to lower herself, quickly reaching the ground. Her father was behind her and just about to climb down.

He began to lower himself down. The wind started picking up and the snow hurled down more intensely, whirling in from the west. The sky around them grew black again, and the large illuminating moon resided behind dark grey storm clouds. They heard a noise from the front of the cabin.

Shayna didn't recognize what it was, but noticed her father seemed to pick up his pace. He hurried down off of the roof, skipping the last few cylinders of wood and simply jumping to the ground. Shayna stood, watching in the direction of the noise. It had sounded like an animal, but Shayna couldn't make out what it was. Her father grabbed her quickly, pushing her against the side of the cabin.

"If anything happens, if any bad people come, you run as fast as you can! Remember what I told you and stay here unless I yell, okay?"

Her father had turned entirely serious and Shayna grew frightened again. "Papa, what's happening? You're not making any sense."

"I know, Shayna, but you need to trust me!"

"Promise me you'll come back!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders again, looking at her intently. "I promise, little one. Now trust me…and stay here!" With that, he ran back inside the house and closed the door.

Shayna felt that he had left her alone. She was afraid and huddled against the side of the cabin under the darkness. The noise came again. Shayna stood there, waiting as she had before, anticipating the worst. She didn't know what was to come or why. She shivered, more frightened than she'd ever been before. The noise came again, louder… closer.

Promises

In a moment, without notice, a huge black coach pulled by six large black steeds came rolling into the yard affront the house. They came from the woods, which were even blacker, except for the snow covering the ground. For a while Shayna could only make out the hooves of the horses and the wheels on the coach. She knew what it all was though, recognizing it from another one of her father's books, one she'd looked at a lot in the past. The book was a How-To book titled in Norticine, Montohna, or Riding. It was a fairly simple book and Shayna mostly liked it for the many pictures of horses. She'd seen a coach in it too, though the coach had been much smaller, brown, and had no roof, unlike the monstrous box of metal in front of her. She wondered why it was so different, but then realized ecstatically that there must be other people inside who were probably trying to stay warm. Why were they here? Shayna grew a bit excited at the thought, but was still very edgy. Her father had seemed rather distraught.

Momentarily, as if on cue, her father walked out of the house, carrying with him what looked to Shayna like a huge piece of metal or wood. It was just barely visible in the darkness, but still seemed oddly shaped to Shayna. He carried it with one arm by its end, leaning it against his shoulder. A pointed part at the end stuck out by the side of her father's head. She'd never read about whatever it was, or seen it, and she wondered about it. Her father approached the coach.

For a while he just stood in front of it, waiting with the long piece of metal in his hand, letting the snow and wind whip his face. His cheeks began to turn red, but he stood and waited nonetheless, not moving, not shivering. He was being patient.

The coach door on the left side swung open on three golden hinges, revealing a bright white light. Two men walked out and down the small silvery steps in front of the door. Shayna saw their black boots first, shiny and leathery, and eventually their pants, then their faces. They were about the same height, one being just taller than the other, and they both appeared almost identical to one another. They had well groomed, curly mustaches above plump pink lips and under pairs of spectacles. They were wearing suits too, and were the first of any other people Shayna had ever seen her entire life. Thoughts were racing through her head and her heart was beating a million times per second. She was still excited, but was beginning to have a somewhat ominous feeling about them. They seemed… Shayna didn't know how to put it.

The storm had begun to die down again, leaving only a small gust of wind now and again, along with a small amount of snowfall. Shayna could see and hear them well and, noticing the suits, pondered where they'd been since then. She wasn't familiar with suits, but she knew they were out of place in the middle of the snowy tundra where she lived. She concentrated on their faces, trying to see what they might be thinking about. She soon began to concentrate on what they were saying, though, as they'd begun speaking and hearing in the dark was much easy than seeing.

"Hello," said the taller, eyeing the gun over the shoulder of Shayna's father.

"Hello," said the shorter, doing the same.

"Hello," replied Shayna's father calmly.

Silence proceeded, but ended eventually as the taller man began to speak again.

"My name is Normandt Smichd and this is my partner Mitchelt Transtend. We're both from Hemisturn. We have a certain business we would like to discuss with you."

Shayna's father answered them in the same fashion they had, telling his name and explaining to them about his home. He stayed reserved and simple. He wanted to judge the quality of the men who stood before his home.

"Oh, so you live out here?" asked Mitchelt Transtend, as if he hadn't noticed the cabin.

"Yes, I do." replied Shayna's father.

"Well," chimed in Normandt Smichd, "may I ask you what it was you were doing out here a few minutes past?"

There was something uncomfortable about Normandt Smichd. He wasn't himself uneasy, but the air in which he spoke seemed to curl in an insecure way. He was intruding, and it was easy to tell that he didn't care at all about Shayna's father's living there.

Shayna's father paused for a moment to think and answered as if it were obvious. "Living."

"Come again?" asked Normandt Smichd.

"Just living. You surely know what that is, don't you?"

"I do," replied Normandt Smichd, stepping closer, "and if you want to continue to do so any longer, you will tell me what you know about that explosion that occurred just minutes ago. You're the only one out here, so you must know about it."

That was enough for Shayna's father. He was ready for them to leave and would make them if they would not. "No. I cannot say I do, gentlemen, but I advise that you go. Now."

Shayna listened in closely and could just make out what they said. She'd heard why the men were at their cabin, and she knew that her father didn't care and was telling them to leave. She was terrified. She hoped that her father wouldn't get hurt and that they would just leave and never come back.

The storm began brewing again and grew larger, but despite it the three men stood still. Even the horses began to stir, wind-whipped and frozen by the new onslaught of cold the storm threw at them. They wanted to go and made noises in displeasure, attempting to draw their drivers back into the coach. But the two men remained unaffected. They hardly had room to care about the feelings of a few horses.

Shayna felt sorry for all six of the horses. They had to carry around a big metal carriage in the middle of a blizzard and couldn't move unless ordered to by the men who were standing in front of her father. The men who were threatening her father. She was scared one moment, but then grew angry. She wanted the men to leave and hoped her father would just hurry up and make them go. She just wanted to get back to reading and couldn't stand to stay outside in the storm any longer. She nearly cried out to her father to make them leave, but stopped herself as soon as Smichd, the taller one, began shouting.

"Well, sir! It's your lose! This is your final chance before we call in our men, of which we have many, and take you down by force. That explosion was out of the ordinary and, know about it or not, you will help us to decipher what it was."

"Ha!" said her father. "You must know something about it! You're willing to come to my home, in a matter of moments, without warning or invitation, and interrogate me. About something neither of us really knows about!"

"He will do it, sir!" interrupted Transtend, the shorter one. "Listen to him the first time."

Shayna's father thought for a moment. He anticipated that Transtend and Smichd, by the looks of themselves, probably had many hired persons for jobs such as they described. They had the resources; it was obvious. He stopped wondering how they'd arrived to his front door so quickly. He assumed the worst, and figured that they'd probably been close all along. Perhaps it was inevitable. All else aside, he thought of his daughter, the only important thing in his life. He thought of her face, of her when she was a baby. He thought of her mother. He thought of himself being with his daughter, as he had been every day since she was born. He thought of her face, her skin, her hair, and her eyes. He thought about what he loved about her. Her curiosity, her bravery, and her intellect. He loved her in every way, as only he could. She was special, and not just because he thought so, though he did think so. He knew it more and more every day.

He knew what must be done.

He looked to Smichd, but then to Transtend. "Mitchelt, sir. Understand something. I want no harm and I wish to bring you no harm. I know you will not leave, but allow me a moment. I have a child, and I wish to comfort her before you, and whoever else you may have with you, come to… take me, or whatever you plan to do. And hear me… I am not asking. You will allow me to do so and you will give me time, or I will kill you both where you stand. Do you understand me?"

The two men looked at the gun and then each other.

Transtend spoke first, sighing in aggravation. "Of course. Be with her."

"You have two minutes," added Smichd, clearly unused to being threatened.

"Good." He turned and walked in Shayna's direction.

Shayna couldn't wait any longer. She ran out to him and embraced him right in front of the house, not far from the two other men. The storm whipped around snow and ice, so that they needed to nearly yell to hear one another.

"Papa! What's happening?!"

"Shayna, you need to do as I said before," he whispered in her ear, hugging her tightly. "Go to the tracks, follow them till you find the train and take it south. Do you understand?"

"Papa, no!" she was crying now. She couldn't imagine leaving him.

"Shayna, there's no time. These men have come to take me somewhere, but I promise I will come find you! Here," he pulled a folded slip of paper he'd been saving for the right moment out of his pocket. He put it in Shayna's pocket. The time had come much sooner than he'd anticipated, but come nonetheless. It was saddening for him, but he didn't cry. He had to get his daughter out before the two men brought however many others with them. It was all happening so unexpectedly; he could hardly believe it. Hardly think. Whatever happened, he was determined to find his daughter again, and continued to speak with her, giving her further instruction.

"Find your way to that address, little one. The one on the note. You can, you're more than smart enough for it, and I've already explained to you what the numbers mean. I know you can find your way, but you must leave now."

Shayna started crying, the tears nearly freezing as soon as they were formed. Her face was pale and her eyes gleamed bright blue, despite the dark. Her blonde hair was sticking messily and was hanging down her shoulders and back in a sort of frenzy. She was terrified, but still tried to listen to her father, as she always had. Still, she couldn't help but to protest.

"Papa, no! Don't leave!" Shayna wrapped herself around him.

"Shayna!" said her father, pushing her away. "Listen to me! Go! I will meet you there, trust me! I promise you. Now go!" He shouted in her ear, kissed her on her forehead, and pushed her away.

Shayna began to back away. She took one last look at her father.

"Go, Shayna! Remember what I promised you! GOOOOO!!!"

Shayna turned around and ran, sprinting past the side of the cabin she'd been hiding at. Smichd and Transtend saw this and began to call for their men furiously. They hadn't said that she could leave.

"COME ON!" Normandt Smichd yelled. "ALL OF YOU!! SEIZE THIS MAN HERE AND FOLLOW HIS DAUGHTER! SHE'S JUST RAN PAST THE CABIN, TO THE EAST! GO!"

Shayna looked back, hearing the strange man's voice. She couldn't hear what he said, but could see some kind of movement. It was dark and she couldn't tell what it was. She worried about her father. She could hardly see anything anymore and the storm raged onward, pounding her with snow and hail. She turned around and ran faster in the opposite direction of the cabin, leaving her father like he'd said to. She kept going, blind and scared. She cried more and more heavily and began to trip over herself in the snow, which had piled up to the height of her shins. She picked herself up every time and kept going, holding on to the last words her father had said to her. He would meet up with her, he'd promised. She had to get through the storm and on the train. All she had to do was to listen to her father and it would all be fine, and she'd see him soon. She held onto the idea that what was happening was only temporary, that she and her father could see each other if she just listened. She ran faster and faster and stopped tripping, gaining her step back again. There would be no obstacles in her way. In the direction she was going the forest ended quickly and what remained was nothing more than a huge snow-filled wasteland. She kept going, without pause, her mind set on what she had to do.

"Find the train, find the address, find Papa, she thought. Find the train, find the address, find Papa." She repeated it to herself in her mind, attempting to rid herself of any doubt of his promise. She had to trust him, had to listen. It was vital, the most important thing in the world, the only thing that would matter. She had to remember his promise. She had to push on, even through the harshness of the storm before her. She couldn't think any differently; she couldn't handle it. And she feared that if she did, she wouldn't be able to make it.

All at once, there was a loud bang from behind her. One huge popping sound resembling nothing she'd ever heard before…and then nothing. Shayna slowed down and turned around. She couldn't see anything but the gusting snow directly in front of her face. The wind howled, uncaringly. An eerie feeling crept inside her and it seemed like a huge omen had just begun to hang itself around her neck, like her body weighed twice what it had a moment earlier. The dome of the sky above her remained invisible in the night, hidden behind storm clouds and blackness. She let out one single tear. She felt lost. She felt… she knew what had happened. She knew, but she couldn't embrace it. She couldn't think about it. Slowly, she turned herself around, and continued running east, towards the train.

"Find the train, find the address, find—." She stopped thinking. She just started running again, faster than ever. She maintained running at the pace she was going for a long time. The rest of the way to the train, which was kilometers away, she let the hail scrape at her face. She let her tears freeze up and fall to the snow, she let the wind push against her and slow her down. She didn't care, she didn't think about it anymore. She didn't worry about it. She worried about one thing: reaching the train. That was the only objective. Her endgame. After that it couldn't even possibly matter what happened anymore. Surely it would all just end. For the time between where she was and the train, that was the sum of her existing. Run to the train, and that was it. She saw and felt everything else, but it wasn't real. It couldn't be real, because it couldn't stop her. She ran faster and faster through darkness. She still couldn't see anything, but knew she'd find the train eventually. It was the right direction, her father had said so, and she trusted him. Blindly, she pressed on, no longer fearful or sad or angry, only determined. There was no longer room for anything else within her, not until she reached the train. That was what mattered, that was what existed.

Hours passed and Shayna kept running. It was freezing cold, but it didn't faze her, didn't make her pause. Eventually, out of the blacknes, there came a light. Shayna didn't notice it at first, but soon its presence was made obvious. She looked up from where she'd been looking the entire time, on the ground in front of her feet. It was white and illuminated what appeared to be several windows made of glass. Shayna recognized it as the train, the side of it at least. She ran faster, hoping it wouldn't leave before she could reach it.

As she approached it, it began moving. Shayna's heart was pounding fast and she was breathing heavily. She was exhausted, but surged forth enough energy to run closely to the train. She was right next to it and it was moving slowly. She decreased her speed to a steady jog and began looking around for a door or something to enter into it from, but couldn't find anything. The train was heading south, towards Shayna's right, and so she began to run that way to see if she could find an entrance. There were lights that lit up the train its entire length and she could see fairly well. The train's side was flat and there was nothing but metal and windows. She still could see no entrance and the train was speeding up. A panic overcame her. She had to get on the train. She looked into the windows as they passed by, faster and faster. She could see people inside, wearing clothing she'd only seen in pictures in her father's books. She saw many different kinds of people as the train sped up and she shouted to them, strange as they were.

Nobody moved. Nobody could hear her through the glass. Shayna was terrified. "What if I can't get on? What if it leaves me?" She thought. She ran hurriedly to the right, still keeping up with the train for the time being, though she knew that would change very quickly. She jumped up and tried hitting the windows, but they were too high.

"Hey! HEEEEEY!" she shouted loudly, though nobody could see or hear her. "Hey!"

She stopped jumping and kept running along the train. She was panicking and knew soon she wouldn't be able to keep up with the train. It would leave her and she would be left for the storm in the dark. She ran back away from the train and began jumping and yelling. She hoped somebody would see her. The storm was still present and thousands of tiny snowflakes and pieces of hail obscured her from sight. She yelled loudly.

"HEEEEY! Out here! Look at me!" She stopped running and dropped on her knees. "Come back, don't leave!" It was hopeless. There was no way they would see her. She sunk down to her knees, looking down. She held out her hands, which were freezing cold. Snow sprinkled on top of her palms, though she couldn't feel it. Her hands were so cold, her body numb. She was on the verge of crying, but was overcome with a sudden idea. It was so simple; why hadn't she thought of it a moment earlier?

Hurriedly, she grabbed some snow from the ground and began to pack it in between her hands. She formed it into a ball quickly and tightly. Raising her arm above her head and gently gripping the snowball, she threw it as hard as she could at the train. It sailed through the air, the wind pushing it back and to the right slightly, smashing it right into one of the windows. A perfect hit, right where she'd wanted it, just like her father had taught her. The two people inside jumped when it hit. There was an old man in a black robe-like suit, who had a kind looking face and a small white curly mustache. Across from him sat an elderly woman, the back of whose hair faced Shayna. They both looked outside, the elderly lady turning her head to see. Shayna began jumping up and down again and shouting to them. For a moment they didn't see her, the train moving as fast as it was, but then they both stood up abruptly, obviously noticing Shayna. They saw a little girl dressed in deer fur waving her hands above her head. The old man walked towards the front of the train and appeared to be shouting.

Shayna dropped back down to her knees, bleeding and exhausted. Her face was smudged with red from the scratches the hail had made on her face and she was pale white. She began to shiver and lied down on her left side, watching the train pass by. She hoped the man who'd been shouting could stop the train and would let her on, but she was beyond wondering. She was too tired to think about it and began drifting in and out of consciousness.

The train was moving, making noises that sounded unlike anything Shayna had ever imagined. It slid along, almost silent except for the hum it created against the tracks. There was some kind of bright red glow that was pressed in the middle between the bottom of the train and the tracks, making a sort of sandwich of itself. Shayna looked to the red force, which she'd never been able to see ever before from her viewings afar, between and thought about the stone her father and she had discovered. She pulled it from her pocket, looking at it and back to the train. They were identical in color. She held it there for minutes, comparing the two in a daze. "Is this a dream?"

She could feel herself falling back to sleep and was nearly gone when she heard the sound of a soft voice calling out from afar.

"Hey," it seemed to say. "Little girl, where are you?"

Shayna closed and opened her eyes. The train had stopped moving, she could tell, though she couldn't concentrate on what it meant.

"Hey!" came the voice louder. "Hey! She's over here, come on!"

Shayna lied there, peacefully drifting for one moment, and in the next violently shaken by a large old man in a black suit.

"Hey!"

Shayna's eyes grew wide, unable to understand what was happening to her.

"She's fading," said the old man to somebody Shayna couldn't see. "Get her inside!"

She was lifted from the ground and, being as disoriented as she was, hadn't been able to concentrate on anything, though the last thing she remembered seeing was the old man holding a door as she was being carried into a wide light. The final thought she had was about the stone. She wanted to know what it was, why she ended up having it and why it had destroyed her life. She knew the train had something to do with it. The light between it and the tracks was no coincidence. She needed to know, had to find out what it was for. If she found that out, maybe she could find out what happened to her father and what might become of both of them. She muttered out the word "stone" and then drifted off into oblivion, leaving behind the snowy, icy tundra of Nortisha, the land she'd loved and grew up in, the land that had cradled her and casted her out. Shayna didn't want to return without her father. Her fate now lied elsewhere. It had called her as she'd ran through the storm, when she'd surged forward and not quit, and when she'd been picked up from the snow. She was off to somewhere new, somewhere modern. A place she'd only dreamt and read about. A place that was new and full of things she'd never seen or done. It was a beautiful place with many different things to experience. An urban place, away from the countryside.

It was a city. A city called Hemisturn.