The Dream

Khaled was on his knees, his feet buried in the snow. 

How did I get here? 

He felt a sharp gust of wind on his bare shoulders. 

Where was I before? 

He slowly rose and turned towards the horizon. 

A blizzard was coming his way. Khaled had never seen anything like it. A storm as black as obsidian filled with rage and ice. It was almost as if the snow itself carried a blue glow as it moved furiously amid the wind. 

Khaled looked at the sky and noticed that the storm was moving up as well. Black clouds were bleeding into the grey sky at an unnatural pace. A few heartbeats later the darkness was above him, rushing down to take its prey. 

This… This cannot be… I must be dreaming. 

As that realisation hit, so did the storm. It consumed Khaled, bringing him down to his knees again. 

A cone of frost surrounded him in an icy cage. The wind was unbearable. It pierced his skin, entered his mouth and found its way towards his core. His lungs got heavy, like solid blocks of ice. His heart slowed, and his vision blurred. 

Is this what death feels like? 

“Not yet, my child,” a delicate, yet powerful voice echoed through the wind. 

Khaled looked up. Before him stood a young woman dressed in white furs. Her skin was icy blue, her eyes as pale as winter. Her long white hair was hanging down, untouched by the winds around her. 

“Who… are… you?” Khaled gasped between each word. 

“You mean you do not know me?” the woman frowned with menacing beauty. “Have your elders taught you nothing? Do you not recognise Morė when you see her?” 

Morė, Lady Icedawn, Goddess of winter. Khaled remembered all the childhood stories he had heard beside the comfort of the family fire. Her beauty, her cold touch, her cruelty… 

He bowed his head in reverence. 

“Forgive me, Lady Icedawn, I could not see… Why have you brought me here? What do you want with me?” 

“I have been looking for you, Khaled. I came to see if you are worthy.” 

“Worthy of what, my lady?” How did she know his name…

“To live up to your destiny. To carry the fate of your people. To keep my realm alive.” 

“Your realm?” 

“Winter is in danger, Khaled. You’ve seen the signs, I’m sure.” 

It was true. Winter was fading slowly, shedding a day or two each year. The elders in Khaled's tribe had been discussing this with increasing concern. They knew that if winter disappeared, ice and snow would follow. Their island would flood and the tribe would be left without a home. Their way of life was at stake. But… 

“But what can I do to save your realm that you cannot, my lady?” Khaled was a nobody - the son of a fisherman. He had no pedigree, no noble status, no power behind his name. 

“That is what I am here to find out.” Morė leaned in, “Show me”, she hissed in Khaled's ear. 

He heard a crackling below, ice shattered beneath his feet. Khaled sank into the icy depths. He could no longer see the frost surrounding him, but he could feel its grip tighten, restricting any movement of his arms. 

He was sinking like a pebble cast into the ocean. The more he struggled to get out of the icy chain, the more it closed around him, cutting into his skin. The grip got tighter, constricting Khaled. He could feel it extracting every last bit of oxygen from his body.

As he gasped for air, water filled his mouth. He heard his teeth cracking as the stream of icy liquid made its way towards his lungs.

Panic took over as Khaled realised he wasn’t getting out of this. He was going to the bottom of the lake and there was nothing he could do. 

Let it be quick, Khaled thought with resignation. 

As his eyes began to glaze over with ice, he felt a grip around his neck. An invisible hand was pulling him back up. 

Whatever this force was, it wasn’t done with him yet. 

His body broke the surface of the icy water. The wind cut against his fragile skin. The cold burned him. Khaled felt like a million needles were sticking into him at once. 

The invisible hand propelled him 30 feet into the air. He was now left to the mercy of the winds, thrown in all directions like a rag. It felt like every bone in his body had been shattered and ground down to salt. 

In his mind, he begged for this to stop. He hoped that death would come for him soon. Yet something compelled him to keep on. Deep within his core, he found a strength he had not imagined possible. A voice in his mind spoke - Rise! Rise! It commanded. 

With every last bit of strength he had left, Khaled screamed. It was not a cry of desperation, but a battle cry. A bellow of determination. He was going to survive, he was going to beat the storm. 

As Khaled’s voice resonated within his body, the cold left him -  its icy grip no longer in command. For the first time since this nightmare began, Khaled felt in charge. 

The storm continued to rage around him, but Khaled didn’t seem to mind. He steadied himself, shoulders straight as he levitated mid-air. The pain he’d felt just seconds ago seemed a lifetime away. It couldn’t touch him anymore. 

He looked down at his hands to see them transformed. His skin was a translucent crystal, the blue of ancient glaciers. Within its diamond facets, Khaled could see the deep dark red of blood running through his veins. A perfect combination of winter and life all within him. He could feel this harmony spreading to his core, calming him.

He looked around at the blizzard. He spread his arms as if to pull the curtain of the storm aside. With that one smooth gesture, he commanded the winds to stop. And they did. 

All went quiet as clouds parted toward the North. A path of clear sky appeared before Khaled’s eyes. He peered into the distance and saw the snowy peaks with perfect clarity. 

Silverfang Peak - that is where he must go. The voice within him whispered it.

His course was charted and he had to walk it. 

Down on the ground, Morė stood watchful. A devilish smile appeared on her face. 

She had found her champion.