Prologue: To a Boy in Green

A boy covered from head to toe in green hopped in the knee-high snow, leaving behind a hole so deep the wildlife could call home, that is, if they still lived in this perpetual snowland imprisoned by Winter. The little ice walls kicked over, connecting the two steps, leading to a shed standing amidst the beating snow. Green moss hanging onto the wooden door; green as the dying grass on the southern land that escaped the grasp of this cold winter.

The boy in green’s little hand held onto a bell magical, lines carved into its side made not of bronze but wood of scared trees that meditate through the frost. He slid his hand into the bell, making sure it wouldn’t ring whilst keeping himself warm. Stepping back into the snowsteps he made, skipping back to a woman on the other end.

A pair of adult’s hand grabbed the bell, a woman dressed in fur. She gave back a smile, even in this harsh Great Land of Frostwalk, motherly and warm, much like the sun in the heartland. She swayed the bell, a tone pure and pleasant to the ear rang out, a wave of radiance spread out. A layer of snow melted before their eyes, exposing a field of flowers hidden under that wrapped around a cedar tree, six petals of icy and clear with a hue of blue, as though glazed by frost. Green weeds came next as the bell’s magic burned it away; green as it was no more.

The woman in fur knelt down, eye-leveled with the boy in green, and plucked a few of the glazed lilies from where they were. Their stems still green with life; green as immature as the flowers were still young. She thread it through his collar, holding onto his hand. The boy in green strolled as he was being taken back to a village far off along a stone path buried under the snow, existing only as it supported the feets that pass by. Mythril etched in the sides of distant mountains gleamed through the veiling snow like shining blue stars, accompanying their journey home.

They passed by a frozen lake, the surface icy blue. A man sat on a pile of snow covered with leaves, a hole in the ice by his feet, a rod in his hand. A small fire lit on a stack of firesticks, warmth spread out from it. Spears with fish on their tips staked into the ground, the meaty end hanging over the flame. The aroma of a family supper got blown past the lake into the boy in green’s face, fat with fish oil with a punch of burnt fish belly. The fisherman waved, the woman in fur waved back, the boy in green did not.

They passed by the woods near their village, the tree trunks ever so strong, the tree leaves ever so green; green as it deepened into a dark void the further back you look. A man appeared from behind the trees. Wood from the size of branch tips to logs twice the size of his arm filled a woven basket on his back. His eyes scanned through the trees, looking for those with branches that snow had not yet touched, those that the bark remained green yet dry, those that sap drip when broken off, eager to be burned later. The woodsman waved, the woman in fur waved back, the boy in green did not.

A great fire was lit in the village center, ten great feast worth of food laid on stage. Spring was soon about to impose her rule over the land. The woman in fur tied off her flowers with a rope dyed blue by the grace of frost, and brushed over the festive food. The sun passed behind the distant mountains, the sky turned dark covered in a layer of blue. A slight hue of green seeped in from the side; green as Lady Spring’s majesty blessed the new year.

The people danced circles around the fire, the boy in green stayed still. A man taller than the rest came up to him. His skin ashen white and pale, his ears sharpen into a point facing up, unlike the rest of those in here, unlike the boy in green. The ashen elf with fish skewers in hand knelt down, handing one to the boy in green.

The fire began to die down, the townspeople took out a bell etched with lines in sharp angles. It was great in stature, taller than even the ashen elf, and heavy that it took four strong men to lift. They hung it up above the fire, the rest of the townspeople chanted deeply, though the bell’s rang was deeper. Ember spewed out from all sides and above. Some landed by the people’s feet, some on the thatched roof of the houses damped by the snow.

The ashen elf sitting by the boy in green gave him a nudge. He told the boy in green that when he was old enough to travel, the volcanic basin to the east would welcome him; that his people there would love to see these festivals and rituals.

The moon had risen enough that the Sky Pillar that trailed behind revealed itself. However, with the changing of seasons, not only was the pillar that Winter resided in showed itself to mortal eyes, but so did the one that belonged to Spring. Winter’s pillar flashed with royal blue, Spring’s shone with a lush green. It was truly a sight to behold. The woman in fur pulled the boy in green aside, telling him to bring out his baby sister to take in the view. The boy in green complied, rushing over to his hut.

A single simple fabric acting as a door separated the inside from the frigid cold. A rug laid out in the center, cookery and bedding by the opposing sides. All furnishings were in a one room with unity, together as a family’s hut. Noise from an infant cried out from a crib, the boy in green walked closer to it. He took off his green cloak and wrapped his sister in it, keeping her warm as he went on his way to show her the divine sky.

A leyline sapling peaked its head from below the floorboard, right as the boy in green crushed it beneath his feet. Out came an ear piercing scream, not from the boy in green, not from the infant in his arm, nor anyone else in this snowland, but from the land itself. A girl appeared where the leyline was. She wore a head of pink hair, her eyes were closed with a tiny smile, yet her face had the confidence of fully aware of your surroundings. Tendril sprouted from her heart, then another from her nape and side, all connecting to one red floating eye. A Saori, a shard of Spring and She placed her hand out, and the eye sat upon it.

The slit on her mouth remained close, yet words were still being said to the boy in green, of how he had committed the cardinal sin of harming the great land, of how he was being pitied to live life as green in a land of blue and white. The eye in her hand opened up, and the boy disappeared, vanished from where he was. His sister dropped from his arms, warped in his still green coat.