It was night when she made her way through the snowy streets of Speal.
The soft glow of the planet above illuminated her path, casting long shadows against the frosted ground.
There were few people around, and the silence of the city seemed to stretch endlessly.
The world felt still, and in that stillness,
Speal appeared almost beautiful, caught in the hush of night.
She couldn't help but glance up again at the planet, its glow mirrored across the city, as if watching over her.
Her mind wandered back to the circle of the old Chosen she had seen earlier, imagining it slowly drawing itself across the planet's surface.
A sudden thought struck her, this planet, this glowing presence above her, seemed to be guiding her, clearing her path, ensuring her safe passage through the quiet night.
But what if, at any moment,
it started the Chosen ritual?
She knew it hadn't happened in years, but... What if now was the time?
The thought unsettled her, tightening something deep inside her chest.
She continued walking, her steps steady but her mind racing, a shiver creeping down her spine.
She made it home.
It was late. The house was quiet.
Anya stepped inside, her boots leaving marks in the melted frost on the floor.
The house was quiet. She moved past her little sister's room and paused when she saw the door slightly ajar. She nudged it open.
Inside, the dim light from a small lamp illuminated the room. Her mother knelt beside the bed, tucking her sister in with careful, practiced movements.
For the first time, Anya noticed the signs of age. She stood there quietly, eyes drawn to the threads of silver woven through her mother's hair, then around the room that hadn't changed: her sister's toys were arranged just as always, a puzzle cube near the pillow, a warrior toy with a chipped sword in one hand and a book in the other.
Anya stood in the doorway, unnoticed, listening.
Her mother's voice was soft, not out of secrecy but a quiet reverence.
"I was younger," she said. "I saw it happen, the last Choosing Day."
Her fingers brushed her daughter's hair behind her ear.
"All the families were gathered. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Wondering if their children would be chosen or spared. Some... their auras faded before our eyes."
She stopped, her gaze drifting to the door. Their eyes met. Anya didn't say anything. She just smiled faintly and quietly closed the door behind her, leaving the room's warmth and the story within it.
The next morning, Anya walked south through Speal.
The streets were quiet, the frost covering the stone paths. Icicles hung from buildings, glinting in the wind. Wind chimes from nearby alleys clinked faintly.
She met Eldra at the edge of the lower ridge, where the slope opened up into a space that had once been called a garden.
The two of them walked together.
It was now known as the Garden of Glass, a large area where the remnants of plant life remained, frozen in place. Ivy had spread across the walls, and trees stood with leaves turned to crystal. Even the grass seemed frozen, unmoving.
The area was home to a few animals, mostly deer, which moved quietly between the frozen plants, blending in with their surroundings.
Anya and Eldra didn't speak much.
They walked until they reached a half-frozen pond. One side of it blended into the stone path, the other side was blocked by a high stone wall.
Anya stepped closer to the edge of the pond and reached out her hand. Eldra did the same.
A group of ducks was gathered by the water. Their feathers puffed up against the cold, and some of them dipped their beaks into cracks in the ice, while others watched the two girls.
Anya noticed a small satchel behind a nearby bench, left by someone else. She opened it and took out a handful of food, tossing it to the ducks.
They quickly moved toward the food, some of them pushing to get a share.
They scattered across the pond's edges, making sure no duck was left behind.
The sun was melting behind the frozen trees, casting long amber rays across the garden. A group of deer stood just beyond the low stone wall, their ears twitching, bodies still as statues. A stag lifted his head, antlers silhouetted like branches against the sky.
"They're so still. Like they're listening to something we can't hear.", Eldra said.
Anya kept her gaze on the deer, her friend's words sinking deeper as she took in the quiet beauty of their forms.
Then Eldra added, "You know, I used to hear, deer would offer themselves to guide souls or appease the gods. It's as if they understood the weight of sacrifice.".
She paused, then went on. "Those antlers, they grow them every year. It takes everything they've got. And when winter comes, they fall off. It's a kind of quiet suffering no one sees. They just keep on growing and losing them, in loops."
Anya's eyes moved from one deer to another, her gaze resting on their antlers, each shaped slightly different, fragile, branching crowns. Then, softly, she replied,
"They can't even see their antlers. They grow them for others... and still give everything."
A pause. "It's sad. But also... brave."
As evening settled over the Garden of Glass, the two girls rose without a word.
They walked side by side, silence stretching between them like a thread through the fading light.
The quiet followed them through the frozen paths of their city until, at a bend in the road, they paused,
one final exchange,
a glance, a breath,
and then drifted apart,
each turning down a different path.
Anya walked the familiar streets, the same paths she had known since childhood.
But this time, something felt... off.
Brighter.
Quieter.
Like the world was holding its breath.
Her pace slowed.Her thoughts mirrored her steps,
each one searching for the shape of this strange feeling,
trying to name it.
Then,
suddenly.
A sharp sound broke
through the quiet.
Like ice cracking.
Across the sky.