Chapter One

The snow falls, it gently flies through the air on its way to meet up with many others close yet different than it self. Yet something stops it it catching it on a warm fuzzy surface ending its journey swiftly as it began.

Nix continued to trudge back to the village with fire wood in hand. He thought about how warm and comforting the fire would feel. It helped him keep his mind off of his freezing cold feet and hands. He knew he would have to make it home soon before night fell and the temperature dropped to a point that would kill him within minutes. He took a long look to the vast landscape covered in an endless white and saw a small patch of brown dotting the landscape.

Nix arrived at his run-down shack. It alone still stood as he had used the other houses for fire wood long ago. Off to his right were the graves of many of the people he once knew, graves he dug. Nix walked into his shack and kindled a fire basking in the only warmth he had felt all day. "I was 13 when they passed huh, these two years have passed quick."

"The time is close," Nix spoke to himself. He thought of how for his entire life the endless winter claimed the lives of many. Yet Nix was unable to bring himself to hate the winter as he enjoyed the ambiance and beauty of the snowfall of his homeland, but he felt something was missing as if his life was but a story with only the beginning. Nix resolved to attempt to escape his home knowing full well it may end in his demise. He climbed into his bed and slept for the long day he would have tomorrow.

The sled was full, Nix had put on his warmest clothing, and he brushed off the graves one final time. Through cracked lips Nix smiled as he left the only home he had ever known and the trek began.

The cold wind and the nibbling frost continued to pursue Nix no matter how far he walked. From what he saw nothing was around but the vast landscape and some curious landforms. He walked for what felt like an eternity as he felt his body getting weaker with every step he took. Yet he kept moving forward with the hope he may one day be able to write the end of his story. The snow only fell harder as Nix continued and each night his supplies dwindled. Soon he would be out of food and fire wood and he knew hat was what would put a stop to his journey. Nix would bury himself in the snow just to get through the night. Soon doubts began to creep in "Will I make it," "I'm so tired," these thoughts would continue to plague the mind of Nix gnawing away at his determination.

Just as the fire that burned in Nix's heart was about to fade he saw something in the distance. Small, dying, and bare it was a shrub. Nix gleefully examined the plant which were things he had only heard about from stories told to him by his parents. Nix was renewed with a new sense of vigor. With all the strength at his disposal he began to walk forward to reach his goal.

The snow began to lift as on his last legs Nix, out of food and wood, started to feel warm from the air, a feeling he had never known. As he continued he only continued to warm up. Nix made one final push over a large hill covered with little snow and came face to face with a vast landscape of not white but unending greens and browns. He stood in awe and only realized after a short time he was crying. He had made it to a place where he could continue his story.

Soon after this great happiness he realized something important, he needed food and water and soon...