Blue Heart by L Carmine

A strong gust of wind blows past me and I grab a fistful of my cloak to tug it closer to my chest. It is the only protection I have from the icy needles that keep trying to pierce through my clothes.

I stop for a few seconds to stomp the snow out of my boots and then I clap a couple of times to keep the blood in my hands flowing. These are the warmest clothes I have but they are barely keeping the cold at bay. Nothing I do seems to protect me from the bite of the wind that lashes mercilessly against my face. It's high winter and today is the longest night of the year. It will be tough to endure today's cold but I have no choice. I have to keep moving.

It hurts to breathe in this cold. I can see my breath escaping my mouth as I slowly advance toward the line of trees peeking on the horizon. It's hard to walk on the thick blanket of snow but I force myself to keep going. I can't return to my hut's warmth before finding what I need first. My brother's life is on the line and I'm the only one willing to face this weather to go look for the hidden treasure that could save him.

I don't even know if I'll be able to find anything beneath all this snow but I have to try. The alternative is to watch my little brother wither and die while he fights against an illness that has rendered him feverish and helpless for the past couple of weeks. I have seen this before, I know how this will end. This sickness has taken my mother and now it wants to take my brother too.

My grandmother has taught me about all the herbs and roots that we have in this region. She told me about their use and showed me where to look for them, pointing out all the secret places that the healing ones usually hide, like the one I need to find now.

Lungwort roots. This plant can treat many illnesses that affect the lungs, which is what my brother needs. If I can find some Poor-Man's-Weather-Glass too, or even some Salvere roots, we can at least buy him more time.

These plants are plentiful in the Spring and autumn, but most of them hide well during winter. The trick in this season is to find pockets of air beneath the snow where the earth is not frozen solid. It's where the roots I'm looking for will probably be hidden inside.

Wildlife is key to my success. If I follow their tracks and keep an eye out for signs in the snow where it has been dug around, the roots I need would most likely be hiding there.

Animals are experts in finding sustenance beneath the snow, they will aid me in my quest. The problem is that even though they are good at finding roots and greenery in the snow, they are also very good at eating them too. I need to be lucky enough to find a spot that might have some leftovers.

I trudge ahead and pray to the Goddess to favor me with some luck today as I walk by the first boulders scattered around the forest's borders. They are called Gray Sentinels, big talon-shaped stones placed strategically around the forest's edge to warn people of the dangers that lurk inside.

I stop again to catch my breath and I take the time to observe the sky. Even though it's the middle of the afternoon, it feels like it's dusk already. The sky looks burdened by carrying too many dark clouds, heavy with build-up snow.

I lower my gaze to the first line of gray menacing-looking trees standing ahead at a close distance. They look like distorted stick figures from afar, but if I squint my eyes and stare at them without blinking, they start looking like broken-boned prisoners with sky-reaching claws, creaking and groaning curses at the wind and whispering promises of unimaginable suffering to those who dare to enter into the forest.

The wind brushes past the line of trees and rolls all the way down to where I'm standing, blowing a cold gale at my face and carrying a hint of a whisper to my ears.

'Stay away.'

I take a couple of deep breaths and pray for the Goddess once again. I pray for her to give me courage, guide my steps, and sharpen my eyes. I cannot falter, not now that I am so close to my hidden treasure. The Goddess will lead me to the roots I so desperately need, I am sure of it.

My brother's life depends on it. I have lost my mother to this sickness, I am not going to lose my brother as well. I need to at least try to help this time. I don't care what anyone says, I am not sitting still and doing nothing again.

I trudge stubbornly ahead, paying no heed to the Sentinel's warning whispers. My feet feel as numb as my face, even though I have thick boots layered with wool to protect me from the cold. Winter is not the best of times to go for a walk in these parts, especially today of all days…

But it's not just the weather that people are so afraid of facing out here. This is wolf territory and many have perished under their hungry sharp teeth and slashing claws. The wolves must be even hungrier now, during high winter, and I am well aware of that fact.

There is also the biggest danger of all, the forest that lies ahead of me. This is home to out-worldly spirits, creators of deadly illusions, and elusive Faes, ancient beings who do not take well to having their land and peace disturbed.

I do not plan to disturb anyone though, my intent is not of malice or any wrongdoing, I whisper to myself as I walk with my head down to show respect to anyone who might be watching. I don't mean to provoke or disrupt any of the creatures – natural or unnatural – who might live in these woods.

My limbs feel heavy and stiff. I long for the warmth of my home and my heart pleads for me to go back to my grandmother and my brother, but I cannot answer these pleas. Not yet.

I need to find my treasure first. Only then I can head back home.