Under the Crab-Apple Trees

“Listen. Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?” - Mary Oliver

Erin! Wake up! It seemed just minuets after he fell asleep Aria poked her head into Erin’s mind and woke him up.

Good morning to you too, he said in a grumpy response. What could be so important that you are depriving me of my valuable sleep? he asked.

Snow! Aria said. Then an icy sensation was slapped onto Erin’s head.

That’s cold! he complained as the snowball melted and the cool water dripped down his neck like a cold gurgling stream. He opened his eyes to see Aria grinning broadly at him. Everything was covered in a velvety white blanket. The trees' branches held large drifts of snow and while he was asleep, the Lady had conjured up a fire in the middle of the clearing. Aria had made something with the deer pelt. It had carved sticks longer than Erin below it, and it was resting on the snow.

What is that? asked Erin.

A sled! said Aria, as she gleefully picked up the object. Erin understood. He had read of sleds and snow in books, but never had he seen them in real life. It had never snowed in Florence.

Aria hitched the sled of stretched pelt to Feony and the twins jumped on. Feony started running and the snow flew past them like stardust as they circled the clearing. Feony’s green feathers were powdered by the snow and he dove into the woods. It was almost like flying.The twins were laughing, joy filling their bodies. The Lady smiled as she watched them weave in and out of trees. The exotic phoenix leading the joyful twins on a ride.

Feony, finally out of breath, stopped in front of the Lady. Erin was now shivering. He was still dressed in the flimsy tunic and cloak the Lady had given him at her hideaway.

“Next time I shoot a deer, can you make its pelt into a coat for me?” Erin asked the Lady.

“Yes, but I will need one too,” said the Lady. Aria was already dressed in a coat of a fur that Erin did not recognize. It had the appearance of a sheep pelt, but it was a light blue-gray.

What is your coat made of? asked Erin as he mounted Sky Full of Stars who was pulling the sled.

Alagysian sheep wool, answered Aria. It is native to the mountains.

I want one! Erin said.

Promptly Aria closed her eyes and concentrated. She had never duplicated before, but she knew it was possible. She drew the magic and focused on reproducing the wool and then stitching. Her power was being drained, but not very fast. When she opened her eyes, she had a jacket like her own in her hands.

Thanks! said Erin. I didn’t know you could do that! Aria smiled as Erin put on the wooly warm parka.

“Once my strength recovers, I will make you one as well,” Aria said to the Lady.

Aria rode behind Erin, as he was observing the trees pass. The Lady kept the caravan in the forest, for the wind and cold was stronger by the cliffs of the coast. The sled whizzed behind them, kicking up snow. The warm coat was a comfort to Erin, it was as if magic was heating him up. He felt warm, and for the first time, at home in this new world. Erin did not wish to talk about his old world with Aria. When she tried to ask him of his previous life, he deflected the questions with a shield of stony silence. Aria would not talk of her life with her father either, for she felt like this would just open another wound of hurt. Instead, she told him of the magical stories of Gernada.

The caravan stopped for lunch at a forlorn stream, finding its path through the trees. It babbled to them as they ate some of the leftover deer meat. It was cooked magically by the Lady, and it felt nice and warm on Erin’s tongue.

They started off again, but this time Erin and Aria rode on the sled behind the horses. Erin enjoyed the swooshing sound the runners made, and the snow tickling his face. Aria carved scenes of the trees and rivers they passed with magic on the bar that they held onto. They were incredibly detailed, Erin could almost hear the swish of the trees branches and the songs of the creeks and streams. When they stopped, a whole landscape was carved onto the bar.

Beautiful, Erin said.

The days passed much the same, in the morning they woke up to gradually more and more snow. Occasionally, Feony would give them a ride on the sled. Aria had started embellishing the deer pelt with forest scenes burned into the hide. At lunch, they ate the leftover meat from the deer that Erin had shot. Only once more did Erin have to shoot a deer, so his nights mainly consisted of fencing. The Lady said he was getting better, and he could feel his muscles tighten, his body become lean. One day, the Lady told them to start gathering food to save for when they reached the end of the forest. The Lady said that they should leave the forest with their saddle bags completely filled for there would be no food available on the open plains.

On the fifth day, they reached the end of the forest when the sun sank. A large plain of snow that they could see no end to stretched in front of them.

“These are the plains of Erindel,” the Lady said. Erin glanced up from where he was sitting on the sled.

“That’s my name!” he exclaimed.

“The field was named after your namesake, Erindel of elves, the founder. He united the elves, dwarves, and gnomes long before humans came to our land,” the Lady said. “He rode the first dragon-sized phoenix. Now they call the field Delen du len Cresta or Field of the Dead.”

“How long will it take to cross?” asked Erin.

“Ten days,” the Lady said, “...and then five to Ysterra.” Erin groaned. He watched the last of the sun reflect over the snow, making it glitter orange and yellow like a frozen fire. Feony and Arletem landed next to the group of travelers, watching the sun disappear on the horizon.

They woke to more snow in the morning and an accompanying howling wind. The horses stamped their feet to get warm, and the food in the saddlebags was frozen solid. Aria fashioned three sets of snowshoes out of willow branches she gathered from a lone willow near a frozen stream by their campsite. The snow was so deep it was hard to walk and not sink. Aria’s snowshoes made walking much easier for the humans, but the horses were left to plow through the snow.

Everyone was happy to get going, and soon Erin was looking at the sled’s tracks behind the horses as they walked along. The air was vicious, biting their lips and noses, worming cold into every part of their coated bodies. The blue winter sky stretched as far as they could see, and the horizon was clouded by snow storms soon to come.

They were going away from the coast now, traveling towards the storm clouds and leaving the blue line of the ocean on the horizon behind them. Not an animal stirred, except the phoenixes above. Their caravan was the only blemish on the white expanse besides the occasional dead bush. No rabbits hopped through the once sunny fields. Now they were burrowed deep away from the cold. The birds had gone south, and the insects had died off. They were completely alone in the harshness of the plains of the Dead.

They ate tiny rations of their last meat for lunch. They could not hunt on the plains, for there was nothing living above ground except them. The plants were withered and dead, and no fungus would grow in the freezing ground. The sled went on, finding its way through the desert of snow.

* * *

Inyelen was caught. No elf had ever traveled so far away. For the dangers outside their sacred forests were uncountable. But now Inyelen was caught. Caught by a blundering pack of field giants. Their names in Giantish were Ügul, Gurkk, and Xéler. Xéler was the cleverest of the three, if giants could be judged by intelligence. Giants were as dumb as, well, giants! He couldn’t believe that he was caught by a group of blundering fools! It was a disgrace! His name after all, meant; “Hunter Who is Never Prey” in elvish.

Inyelen rubbed his pointed ears and instinctively reached for a bow that wasn’t there. They had taken all of his weapons, or at least they thought they had. It turns out, Inyelen always kept his birth dagger in his boot, just in case. He would never be prey, he thought, trying to be optimistic.

Who are you? a voice entered his head.

Who are you? asked Inyelen, but then— did he catch the melodious tone of a phoenix that he knew very well?

Feony! Are you near? he asked, his hopes rising.

Four days away, said Feony.

Could you make it here in less than four days? I’m captured by some giants right now, and could use some help. How is Elestella? he asked, his mind tuning to his hidden sister.

Elestella is fine. She is bringing some “surprises” to the Queen. We will come as fast as we can. Feony said, then his mind turned away, out of reach. Inyelen put his head in his hands and listened to the giants around the fire, wishing that Ellestella, One Who Watches the Moon would come faster. Snow started to fall around him, drowning out the little light of the moon.