Arc 7 - The Path From Light to Darkness

Traveling for as many hours as possible every day, and avoiding any more stops than those strictly necessary, it only took them another four days to reach the small town of Woodbridge.

Sitting on Black’s back, Snow’s heart almost stopped when HawkEye returned from the front, informing them that they would finally reach their destination in a hour or so.

Their destination ... The town where he’d lived with Sand for the first six years of his life. Probably the place where he had been born as well.

Due to his daily practices, most of the things he’d forgotten about that place were now fresher than ever in his memory, and he couldn’t help feeling conflicted when they finally arrived at the town’s entrance.

Dismounting his horse, ZaiWin¹Literally zai (blade) + win (chaos). silently helped him down as well.

In the last few days they had barely spoken to one another, except when ZaiWin was helping him with his daitai²Literally dai (light) + tai (mark), or Holy Markings, considered Heavenly Blessings. They’re the source of power. control. Still, he would always make a point to help him on and off Black’s saddle, the same way he had always done since the day they’d left the Fortress.

“Good afternoon, friend. We’re new in town. Would you happen to know of a good place where we can spend the night?” ZenTar³Literally zen (silent) + tar (wind). asked a local merchant that had crossed their path, pulling a vendor’s cart full of fresh vegetables, and the man greeted him with a friendly smile, happily giving him directions, pointing towards the street ahead.

It had changed … Snow thought, looking ahead, his hood back on his head, covering his silver hair. There were more people in the streets. The were also more houses. It looked and felt livelier, although that could also be due to the fact that his memories were full of cold, winter days, when people would obviously tend to stay indoors. Nevertheless, and even though it was the end of summer, the air felt colder than it had been in Weiin⁴Literally wei (crystal / precious stone) + suffix in (center), meaning the center of the Province of Wei, in other words, Wei’s Capital. All Capitals of all Provinces are named as such..

Like most cities of the Province of Sur⁵Literally sur (plain). Where Sur is the name of the Clan, also the name of a Province., Woodbridge had been erected on a considerably wide expanse of leveled land, and was constantly washed by the cold winds that descended from the eternal icy mountains of Pon⁶Literally pon (mountain). Where Pon is the name of the Clan, also the name of a Province., north of there. For that reason, summers were cool and fresh, but winters were cold and harsh.

The town itself lived mainly of their large fields of flax, grown by the forest’s edge. After harvesting the small, blue-flowered plants, the people would weave them into long rolls of linen, most of it sold off to other cities. From the seeds they would make flour to be baked into bread. By no means a poor village. but not a rich one either, the people of Woodbridge generally lived a rather easy life. Known for their good hospitality and for their delicious food, they were frequently visited by merchants with interest in exporting their fine linen to other Provinces, ending up distributing it all over the Empire.

Walking down the street, Snow couldn’t help feeling as if he were in a dream. Somehow, even his depressing forced trips to his own memories had felt more real than this.

As a child, he’d run through those streets, trying to escape those who had wanted to beat him, those who had wanted to steal the scraps of food he’d managed to gather, those who had wanted to punish him for being born without a coin to his name. Now he was standing there, walking those same streets, and no one would even spare a second glance at him, the people around him happily going about their lives, laughing and greeting one other when they crossed paths. In his memories the people from that town had always been cruel, evil, mean, hateful. But the people he now saw were nothing like that. Just normal men, women and children, like the ones he’d seen in Wei.

He was so absorbed by his own observations that he didn’t realize they’d arrived at their destination until ZaiWin stopped walking, right in front of him.

“I guess this is the place,” ZenTar was saying, and Snow looked up to see where they were.

In front of him was a larger, two-storey building, similar to most small-town inns, the carved and painted wood sign hanging above the door depicting a bright green casket of wine and a yellow, large loaf of bread. The warm sound of people’s voices spilled out onto the streets from the open door, together with the warm and familiar scents of a working kitchen.

With the walls freshly painted in a deep blue color, for a brief moment Snow almost couldn’t recognize it. But then he could clearly see himself, standing on that same small front step, feet covered in snow as he desperately banged on that door. It had been red, back then, the color now practically faded away. And it had been closed. And he had banged on it for an entire morning, before someone had finally opened it to let him in.

The large room that he could see from where he stood was now filled with long tables and wood benches, but he could clearly recall the rich carpet that had cover the floor, the velvet coaches and armchairs spread around the hall. Even the staircase stood on the exact same place, to the left.

He could see himself, small and helpless, standing in the middle of that room, surrounded by beautiful cold women that stared curiously at him. He could even see madame, slowly descending those stairs, step by step, her red, flimsy gown silently dragging behind her like a pool of blood. The air was so thick that he couldn’t breathe, he thought, taking a step back. Above all he could hear his child self scream. Scream from horror and excruciating pain. And he covered his ears, afraid he might be dragged by that heartbreaking sound and end up screaming as well.

“Snow?!”

Nox⁷Literally nox (night). Nox is the name of the Clan (family name), also the name of a Province. ZaiWin uses it because he is the Governor of Nox ZaiWin turned back at the sound of MenTar⁸Literally men (lake) + tar (wind)’s worried voice and immediately reached out for him, holding him by one arm, steadying him on his feet. Hands pressed against his ears and eyes opened wide in terror, Snow looked as if he were about to collapse from pure fear, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“Hey! Focus!” ZaiWin told him, giving him a curt shake, and Snow raised his head to look up at him, his face drained of all color.

“I can’t … stay in there … Don’t make me stay … in there …”

There, where Sand had died. There, where some strange man he didn't even know had taken her away from him forever.

ZaiWin nodded, grabbing his wrist, forcing him to uncover at least on ear, as if he were afraid he might not hear him otherwise.

“We won’t stay here,” he firmly stated, one word at a time, no questions asked. And Snow couldn’t help shiver at the overwhelming relief those simple words brought him.

“Zen! See if there’s somewhere else where we can stay,” ZaiWin asked, looking at ZenTar over his shoulder, and before the older man could even answer, he was already dragging Snow down the street.

Snow stumbled at the sudden pull and was forced to run a bit to keep up with ZaiWin’s much larger pace. And yet, the more steps he gave away from that place, the cold wind brushing against his face, the better he felt, his thoughts more clear collected. Looking around, he could see himself pretty much everywhere. Running or sitting on the ground, digging in a pile of trash or simply standing there. Wherever he turned his child self always looked small and skinny, his face and clothes dirty, his head bald, his dark eyes tired.

They halted in the large intersection of the town’s three main streets, and Snow couldn’t help stare at the small food stall he’d watched from afar, so many times in his childhood. Strangely enough, it was still in the same place. The boy tending the small tables was also the same, with the difference that he wasn’t a boy anymore. The people sitting there resembled the ones from his memory, even though they were obviously different. A couple sharing a plate of sweets. Three merchants discussing business over a few glasses of wine. A small child sitting on her mother’s lap.

The store next to it, with its beautiful dolls all perfectly dressed and flawlessly aligned, was also the same. Different but the same. And the more he looked at those things the sadder he felt, the past and the present mixing in his head.

Sure, things had changed, the town had grown, the people looked happier. But, in the end, it was all still the same, and the child he had once been still wouldn’t have a place amongst them.

“Nox! This way.”

His wrist was pulled again and Snow was forced to walk away from the busiest streets.

ZenTar led them to a much smaller, much quieter inn, the plump owner obviously more than eager to receive the new guests, bowing repeatedly as he showed them to their rooms. Only then did that hard hand released him, leaving him planted in the middle of a small, one bed bedroom, before he left without another word.

All the better, Snow thought, making his way to the window, opening it to look outside. The cold, familiar air washed over his face and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. The same scent. Not that it was a good scent. It was merely familiar.

The amazing view from the second floor, however, was something he had never laid his eyes on before. Taller than the common one-floor buildings, his window stood above the majority of rooftops, their inclined, black surfaces like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly fitting side by side. From up there he could see the streets and the people rushing back and forth. They looked really small, almost insignificant. And, a bit farther away, he could see the silver, slithering waters of the river, and the slightly arched wooden bridge built over it. The bridge that had granted the town its name. The bridge that had been his home since he could remember.

Turning around, Snow crossed the room and was out of the door without a second thought. Running down the stairs, holding his hood in place so it wouldn’t fall off his head, he ran outside and he kept running, allowing his feet to lead him. He knew this place like the back of his hand and, even though the dirt beneath his feet had been wet by his tears more times than he could count, it was still home.

Silvareiel

My dear Snow is finally home ?