A Rose in the Snow - Chapter III

[tcs_tonsils_ 2833]

A Rose in the Snow - Chapter III

[!] A portrait of Borris Iver Kortrevich

 

13th of Joma and Umund, 414 E.S.

 

Chapter III

Borin shivered. A gentle breeze blew over him as he lay in the thick mud. Borin tried to open his eyes, but a wave of exhaustion fell over him as if attempting to pull him back into unconsciousness. After a few moments of waiting, he forced his eyes open, pushing past the mental barrier that had kept them shut. Although he was successful, the difference between open and closed was minimal. 

 

There was nothing—nothing but blackness. Eventually, however, the darkness developed into shades of black and gray around him as his eyes adjusted to the vacancy of light. Borin realized there were silhouetted shapes that stretched upward toward stars that were visibly clustered together, separated by immense voids of darkness. The stars gave barely any light, but a little light was better than none. 

 

Questions flooded his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. But it was all so incoherent. A heavy feeling of incompleteness, emptiness, and solitude fell, surrounding the air. A deepening silence enveloped the multitude, even in his head. Borin felt his mind being consumed by this void. Everything was utterly vapid. Borin continued to peer into the vast space above him. The stars twinkled ever so slightly, almost bringing a sereneness to the moment—time seemed to be irrelevant. It was all charming and yet dreadful.

 

Suddenly, a feeling of deep pain emerged from Borin’s side. In an instant, the emptiness had been replaced by a burning sensation latched onto his gut. The pain advanced, reaching his chest and legs. Borin tried to open his mouth to groan or scream, but no sound came. In fact, Borin was unsure if he even opened his mouth at all. Borin just grimaced and bore it; the pain now enveloped his entire body. Yet even in all this, Borin didn’t try to move. Even in the soreness and aching, he felt a sort of calmness to everything. It was only at this time did he realize he was lying down. 

 

He placed his hands behind him, and they sank a couple of inches in the grit-filled mud before finding the bottom. His arms flared in pain as he sat up. As soon as he got upright, the pain moved down to the muscles that now held up his body. His abdomen throbbed. This stinging sensation was something he had never felt before. Gritting his teeth, Borin looked around for anything. 

 

He saw nothing but the blackness that stretched everywhere. The black silicates he saw earlier connected to the ground below him. Borin turned to his side, still bearing the agony that moved around his joints, and stood up. His whole body shook as he kneeled and eventually got to his feet. He ached in every place—his feet barely held his weight.

His head swam both from the pain in his side and from the questions running through his mind. It pounded hard. He felt his heartbeat through his temples and more pain with every pulse. He closed his eyes, trying to think about what had happened and why he was here. 

 

“Callum.” He whispered, his gritty voice barely reaching to his own ears. His mind fuzzed, and he stumbled to the side a bit. Borin caught himself, his eyelids blinking rapidly to keep himself awake. 

 

Borin stood, scanning the forest. Then he closed his eyes, listening to everything around him. The wind blew through the trees, making a low whistling sound. He knew he had to get leave, find help, find… His mind trailed. He blinked, his hands softly rubbing his temples. If I stay here much longer… his thoughts trailed off. Forcing open his eyes, Borin looked down to where he had laid in the flattened crimson snow and mud. Borin rubbed his hands together, blowing into him. The warm hair was of little help, though. His hands were numb at this point. He probably had hypothermia and frostbite at this point, but Borin was not willing to think about that right now. 

 

Borin felt himself stumble forward, not because he was dazed, but instead, he found his body pushing him to move. He didn’t know where he was going. His feet seemed to carry on their own. He tried to understand what he was doing, where he was going, why he was here, but tiredness swept over him and wiped his mind clean every time. He paused, head-clearing for a slip second the pain faded. Despite the lack of pain, his body sometimes shook violently, causing him to have to prop himself up on a tree so that he didn’t fall to the frozen ground. 

 

There was more rough terrain up ahead as the flattened forest began to turn into a hill with pretty deep gorges, the bottom of which lay more significant streams of water. The stream wasn’t as deep as it was wide. It wasn’t even fast-moving, but landing in it wasn’t something Borin wanted to do.

 

So he steadied his foot against the base of the tree as he mentally mapped out the safest way through the forest. The hills were not particularly steep, but they were enough that he could quickly tumble down if he lost balance. In the distance was a massive rock face. The gray rock extended up past the line of the trees. 

 

Borin sidestepped in front of him, the side of his foot digging into the browned rotting leaves and snow below him. Borin grabbed a tree in front of him, making his way step by step on a mental path to the rockface. He made sure to place his feet sideways, parallel to the hill, in a way that would prevent sliding. It worked for the most part. However, he felt his side throb and pulse with sharp jagged pains with every known twist and turn. He groaned, his side hitting a particularly rough spot, scraping against his shirt and the stabbing he currently endured. 

 

Borin would slide partially down the hill before regaining his balance by digging his hands into the dirt, snow, and leaves or by grabbing trees and regaining his balance. Borin breathed in profoundly, recovering for a second after a particularly long slide. He continued as before, making his way across the slope, down and over the water below and to the hill on the other side. 

 

Over the crest of the next mount rose a large cliffside, the rocks overhanging a larger river of water with which multiple smaller streams ran into. The rock face extended into the distance. The stream ran almost parallel with the canyon wall, sometimes weaving underneath the overhanging rock face then back out. 

 

Borin slid carefully down the last hill, his arms keeping contact with the frozen ground to stabilize his descent. Hopped up as he got to the bottom, his feet made a soft thud against the stone. He shoved his hands into his pockets, moving them around to try and warm them up. Now being on the bank of this brook, which was only a few feet wide, Borin could see down the massive gray wall protruding from the ground and up several hundred feet. 

 

A soft smile fell on his face as he stared up at the outer wall of the keep. A small keep gate stood covered in ivy and growth, a clandestine entrance to the warmth that seemed so close. The water was frigid, although Borin knew it would have been even worse if he had not been out here for so long. 

 

He looked up, his skin flooding with goosebumps as he walked up onto the rocky shore on the other side. The rock face and the row of trees made a barrier that forced the wind to move in one direction like a wind tunnel. Borin rubbed his arms once more, maneuvering his feet onto flat rocks, aware that every sharp point felt ten times worse while his feet were almost numb. He threw himself at the gate, hastily clawing away the brush. Gasping, he gripped both hands onto the door, pulling towards him with as much strength as he could muster. Brush, dirt, the gate, it all moved as he yanked back. Lunging, he dashed through.

 

“Rose!” He yelled forth, busting through the front doors of the keep, his mind fading in and out. “Rose! Fetch the doctor!”

 

Rose poked her head into the doorway before quickly rushing to his side, her hand grasping his and flinging his arm over his shoulder as she propped him up. “My lord, what happened?” She yelped, her voice sharp with worry. 

 

Borin shook his head, and the noise of her pleading faded into silence. His body drooped, his total weight being placed on Rose’s shoulders. At Least I will die at home, he thought, a pitiful smile creeping onto the corner of his lips. His eyes shut, and darkness overtook him. Borin fell into unconsciousness once more.  

 

Signed,

Borris Iver Kortrevich

Edited March 1, 2022 by tcs_tonsils_

[lalo 317]

Eileen Baruch read over the pages of A Rose in the Snow's third chapter, thrilled at seeing her character mentioned!