At the foot of the northern mountain range of the Roseland, was a small town called Clermans. Rather remote and far away from other settlements of the Roseland, Clermans was an interesting place, for it acted as the hub for the nearby facilities and settlements. Walk into a tavern, one would find, at any given time, at least one dusty man with calloused hands and bulky arms. This would be a miner working in one of the mines scattered in the region. Usually, one would also find a similarly fashioned man next to such miner, engaged in a heated discussion about some rocks and such. In that case, that would be a quarryman. The twisting valley of the north had many quarries.

The men working rocks engaged in a friendly rivalry with the men of woods, the lumberjacks, and the hunters. I said rivalry, but it was nothing more than just some tavern banters regarding whose profession was more valuable. In general, the rocks and the woods respected each other. They mingled freely, which made Clermans a lively town bustling with activities, despite the forever-muddy ground and the sky that was cast gloomy three seasons a year. In the summer, though, the sky was clear and blue. The southern slope of the mountain, at the bottom of which Clermans was situated, basked in the much-needed sun.

Icy river water skirted around Clermans, having come from the mountain tops by splashing down the densely wooded slope. The heavy ores and rocks from the region gathered here at Clermans and were ferried down the river on rafts made of cut-down trees. The trees on the slope were mostly of the pine family, tall and lean, and dark green. Their needle-like tops and sharp branches swayed in the summer breeze, rustling with ‘ssss ssss’ sound that induced satisfying naps.

About a mile of trail up from Clermans, the slope plateaued like a massive shelf, ran flat for two or three miles of fertile soil, before resuming its stiff climb again. Here on this elevated flat land, a large lake had formed millions of years ago, which acted as a pit stop for the water coming down from the height. Baron’s retreat, our destination, sat at this lake’s northern shore, its back against the slope, facing the rest of the Barony that lay beneath. It was a decently sized villa, about half the size of the Baron’s manor, still big enough. It had plenty of rooms to accommodate everyone. There was a small rose garden before the villa, but we first had to go through the vineyard. The grapes… didn’t do very well, what with the climate and such. It had been the previous Baron’s idea, which turned out to be not so brilliant. The current master of the Roseland kept it though, for the rows and rows of grapes held some nostalgic, sentimental value to him. I, too, must agree with His Lordship. I vividly remember me, a small child, running through the grapevines under the bright yellow sun in the blue sky, and the distant voice of the Baroness shouting “René, please do not go too far!”, and the rustling of the leaves, and the softness of the dark soil under my running feet, and the excitement offered by this tranquil land amidst rocks and ice and mud.

And now I was running after Anna. As soon as we had arrived and unpacked, she was jumping up and down in excitement.

“Would you like to have a look-” the Baroness was suggesting, but Anna ran out the door even before her mother could finish the sentence.

Despite her smallness, Anna was rather quick on her feet, and as she ran, the tiny bell on her wrist tinkled rhythmically. The identical rows and rows of grapevines and the incessant rustling of the leaves gave a sense of the endlessness, which, coupled with the pleasant sun and breeze of the early mountain summer, made me forget about everything else but this giggling child running before me, happily dashing through the vineyard.

Anna stopped abruptly and corked her head as if listening. Her shoulders heaved up and down, taking in the air after all that running.

“Milady-”

The child turned around and put a finger before her lips, telling me to be quiet. I stopped in place and watched her, wondering what the heck got her attention. The large jewel eyes were dashing left and right as she perked her ears, trying to pinpoint. The mochi cheeks huffed and puffed and were rosy from running. Our eyes met, and eager, Anna gave me a big smile, which was oh so bright and pure, I had to squint my eyes and hold my breath.

A few seconds had passed, and there was a distant rustling, followed by a muffled flapping. Anna’s face beamed again. The little goddess grabbed my hand and pulled the mesmerized me towards that direction.

###

With the baby bell on her, it was impossible for anyone not to hear Anna coming towards them. Thus Jehan wasn’t surprised at all to see us. He was bagging the pheasant he had just caught when Anna and I emerged from the grapevines into a small clearing.

“René!” He recognized me immediately and gave me a gentle, friendly pat on the head. “My, you’ve grown, kid.”

I think Jehan was seventeen or eighteen around then. From my previous visits, he and I had come to know each other quite well. We hadn’t seen for four years, and he had become a fine young man in the meantime. Handsome and lean, yet solid from running up and down the mountain every day. He so oozed coolness I was sure every girl in the area must have their eyes set on him. Unfortunately for the ladies, Jehan lived in the villa, a bit remote and up the slope from Clermans. He was the fourth child, and the only son, of the man who looked after the villa. When not out hunting and gathering, Jehan helped his father, which ranged from carpentry to gardening and such. I used to follow him around and bother him in admiration. To my kid’s eyes, even with the experience of the previous life, dude was cool. Even the dark bowlcut hair was cool; I became a bit envious.

Jehan took a step back and carefully eyed Anna. The four-year-old goddess waved rather shyly, but her eyes were fixed on the young man’s beautiful face, her mouth slightly agape in awe.

“Milday, this is Jehan. His father looks after the villa. Jehan, the young Lady Anna.”

“Ah! The much-fabled rose-born.”

Jehan bowed politely, and in return, Anna sheepishly nodded in greeting. She made some hand signs, and the tiny bell on her wrist tinkled as she did so.

“Her Ladyship is pleased to meet you.”

“Fascinating,” said the young hunter, “milady speaks to you by the ringing of the bell?”

“Ah, no,” I shook my head, “by the shapes of the hands.”

With that, both he and I eyed her hands, anticipating her next words. Anna pointed at the bow slung on Jehan’s back.

“Yes, milady,” I noted her interest, “Jehan is an excellent hunter-ranger. The best in the north, I dare say.”

The young man blushed pink but seemed to be pleased. He got on his knees and presented the bow for the noble child to inspect. I realized that we did not have the signs for the bow and the arrow in our little dictionary. I took a mental note to make some additions and felt pleased. The trip was turning out to be productive in that regard as well.

Anna took the bow from Jehan’s hand, and examined its build. Then she snatched an arrow from the quiver hung by the man’s belt, faced away from us, and tried to draw. Jehan walked to her side to offer assistance, but-

“My!” Jehan was impressed, “milday holds it correctly. And a good stance, too! Has the young Lady shot before?”

“Erm… No. Not that I know of…”

Despite her effort, the bow’s draw weight was too much for the little kid. Anna gave up and handed the bow back to Jehan.

###

Our summer on the mountain was beautiful, yet I had my time full. Every morning, the Baron’s family and his Council, which included me, sat around a long wooden table laid by the small rose bed. We had our breakfast there under the pre-noon sun, simple bread and butter and smoked hams and local fruits. After the meal, the Baron and us, the Council, discussed the matters of the Barony. We reviewed the first half of the year. We also talked about the coming fall and winter, casually going over various topics, pitching ideas, and sometimes arguing but often joking. In essence, we were just a group of pals lazing around, for which I was grateful to be regarded as an essential member despite my age.

Then the servants would pack lunch into many woven baskets, and we would stroll down to the lake and settle down on the northern shore. Sometimes I fished, and when I did, the Baroness and Anna would squat down next to me and, as if one, intensely stare at the float. The three of us would silently watch the water. The crystal clear surface gently rippled and mirrored the blue sky and the passing clouds, sprinkled with blinding dust of the reflected sunray. When a fish did bite, oh boy, the two ladies screamed and jumped up and down in excitement; it was quite a display. They would rush to my side and help me pull the fish out of the water. I would then toss the fish onto a patch of grass where it struggled and gasped for the air. Each time I caught something, the Baroness would tally the count anew, the proud smile on her face getting wider and brighter as the number grew.

“Look, Anna,” she would say like a proud mom, standing over the cache of my incredible achievement, “look how many René has caught. One. Two. Three… Three.”

Sometimes Jehan came along. Like a big brother, he towered over us little kids and looked after Anna and me. He took us onto the trail that ran twisting through the pine woods, where countless summer bugs and small creatures intrigued the goddess. The trees were so tall, and their branches broke the sunlight and cast erratic shadows. Walking in the woods, Anna and I fantasized we were having an epic adventure, in which Jehan, our trusted ranger, led the party through an unknown land of monsters and treasures. I picked up some beautiful acorn-like things, and my favorite was a big one, about the sizer of my thumb, its amber-brown scratch-less surface that felt so smooth to the touch. Anna, too, had found one very similar to mine, and when she did, she gloated and showed off, but I liked mine better.

“Please stay on the trail. Do not go too deep into the woods, or better, just don’t at all when I am not around,” Jehan warned us. “For the land of trees also is home of many beasts.”

Jehan took us up the slope, too. We, of course, did not go all the way to the very top. Still, looking down from the height, the vast green of the Roseland, and the villa that had become tiny, Anna and I felt an immense sense of accomplishment after having grumbled our way up the rocky path. The breeze up there was refreshingly chill and quickly dried off our sweats while we rested listening to the distant sounds of Clermans in action.

“I’ve heard there are harpies,” I mentioned onetime.

“Yes, there are. Further up where the snow is,” said Jehan, pointing up. “They do come down from time to time and hunt small prey, but they generally stay away from us.”

“What about the stone giants?”

My question picked Anna’s interest. Her eyes widened, and she looked around, in search of the said giants. Jehan smiled at this.

“No, milady. The stone giants are further deep in the mountains.”

‘Have you seen one, though?’ asked Anna.

“I have indeed, but only once and from afar.”

And he sat down between us, his arms wrapped around our tiny shoulders, and told us of the encounter, and we, fascinated, listened and wowed in awe.

When the day was too hot, Anna and I would strip naked and jump into the melted ice. Although underdeveloped for her age, she picked up swimming rather quickly and had no trouble chilling in the water. I found it funny, remembering how she used to hate taking a bath. After splashing around for a bit, we would float on our back, watching the fluffy clouds pass. Sometimes we would dive in the shallow and search the bottom for interesting stuff, of which there were plenty.

The maids submerged buckets of figs and plums in the shallow, and after hours of cooling in the glacial water, the fruits were delicious treats. When I bit down on the plump flesh, sweet and fragrant nectar exploded into my mouth, and the intense cold traveled through the bones of my teeth and gave me a brief headache.

Around noon we would have cold lunch comprised of bread, butter, smoked ham, peppered jerky, some fruits, and chilled ale. When we were full, everyone picked a spot on the lakeshore and took a nap. Anna, of course, would not waste glorious hours of the sun by sleeping, and she urged and begged and pestered me until I caved in and went along with her. It had become a daily routine for her and me to take a stroll around the lake after lunch. There always was something new. An interesting stone that we had not previously seen. A weird-looking bird. A strange bug. Mysterious ripple on the water that required our investigation.

Later in the afternoon, Anna and I would turn around and return to the villa. Around this time, the cook would be busy with either the fish the servants and I had caught or whatever game Jehan had brought in. Most of the time, the main dish was simple roasted meat over the fire, sprinkled with salt and pepper. Sea salt was rare in the Roseland, for we were all the way across the kingdom from the sea. But thankfully, our northern mountain range had a rich vein of rock salt, a blessing not only to Clermans but the entire Barony. Pepper, on the other hand, was brought into the Roseland by the nomads of the eastern desert, they themselves having bought it from some distant land on the other side of the dunes.

When the sun dipped a bit low and the air cooled, we would sit at the table by the rose bed before the villa and share a hearty meal with plenty of ale and mead. The little demon stuffed food into her tiny mouth as fast as she could manage. There still remained hours of the sun, and Anna wanted to milk out every second of it. I, though, took my time with my food, and this usually irritated Anna. She would watch my every move, every bite, every gulp of water, fidgeting, glaring, shifting, impatient. When I was done with my supper, Anna would grab my hand, and we would run around the rose bed and the vineyard. In the evening, whole new sets of interesting bugs came out and kept the little goddess entertained. Sometimes we would bring out a candle and watch moths and flies fly into the flame.

When the sun had long set, and we started to feel tired, we would just lie down on our back anywhere, side by side, and I would tell Anna stories. Sometimes what little I knew of the constellations that were very different from my previous world. Sometimes of the Roseland’s history. Or some adventures involving knights and ladies I had read. Doing so brought back the memories of my good old pal, the priest, who had taught me much and shown me the stars. I felt good passing it down to my little precious and wondered if the priest had felt the same.

On the villa’s second floor, there was a nice little room with a bed large enough for both of us kids. It had initially been set for me alone, but upon arrival, Anna refused to be separated from me even during the night. After much fussing and bawling and screaming the first night, she got what she wanted and slept in my room thereafter. I suspected the Baron and the Baroness felt a bit relieved, having the night to their own, so I gritted my teeth and endured having to share my bed with the devil child. Maids would bring in a fresh linen nightshirt for Anna and help me get her ready for the night, such as getting her into the long shirt and untying the braid of her hair and such. After tucking us in, the maids would blow the candles out and leave the room. Anna and I would be side by side, her head resting on either my arm or my chest, and the pleasant night breeze coming in through the slit in the stonewall made us drowsy. After a series of yawning and pushing each other and rolling a bit, we would fall asleep, and so would end our carefree summer day.

###

Anna liked it so much, and furthermore wanted to hang around and see the snow-snow of the mountains, not that of the rolling plain around back home. Her mom and dad had a long discussion and decided the Baroness and Anna would stay.

“I am certain that time spent on the mountain would do Anna good,” said the Baron, ruffling up my head. It was decided that I, too, would stay.

“But the works-”

“I should be fine,” the majordome cut me off, “besides, you have been working too much. A child enjoying his youthful days is also very important.”

“Absolutely. René needs a rest,” the Baroness agreed and turned to face me. “You will stay here with Anna. Oh, we will have so much joy.”

“But My Lady-”

“If you cannot help yourself,” this time the Baron interrupted my protest, “go down to Clermans every now and then. See if you can help around.”

I stopped protesting and thought about it. Clermans was always full of activities, what with rocks and ores and trees being shipped down the river throughout the year. ‘Surely, it would be exciting to have a look into how things are run?’

When I came to senses, it was already too late. The matter had been settled; I was to be stuck on the mountain with Anna for the rest of the year.

The summer ended, and the Baron kissed us and went back to the manor with his Council and the bulk of the servants. The villa had become eerily quiet, with only a handful of maids left to tend to the Baroness and her daughter. Jehan’s father switched his gear, and the villa went into a low-power mode. Sheets were washed and folded. Stones were scrubbed. Doors and windowpanes were refitted. Larders were restocked. But I was strictly forbidden to lend my tiny hands.

“Let the man do his tasks, you do yours, which is not to do any work,” said the Baroness sternly. I scratched my head to this. Had she forgotten that I was ‘of the Tavern?’ That peasant child of my age was expected to help around?

The weather was still warm, and there wasn’t much change in how Anna and I spent our days. But I was bothered, nervous, and anxious. I often found myself pacing back and forth, biting my nails. Spending the summer here in the north was supposed to be a vacation, which was fine. But now, fall was the busy time of the year. Yet here I was, away from my dear colleagues, away from my tasks and routines. Stuck with a snotty child who still wet MY bed every other night. Being pampered. I knew the two La Roses loved me as if their own son, but did I really deserve all that? What worth was I to them if I was stuck here not really doing anything for the Barony?

To ease my sense of insecurity, I went down the slope to Clermans. For the first few times, Jehan gave me a ride on his horse, but he soon went and got me a little donkey. After that, we rode side by side down the winding trail.

Escorted by the young and handsome ranger, I went to Clermans every third day. The girls flocked to and admired Jehan, and when he flashed a smile or greeted them, they blushed and fidgeted and shifted on their feet. I, too, was received well. The townsfolk and their administrators treated me with respect, for they knew I was a member of the Baron’s Council. After having inspected the tavern, which was a very important thing for me personally, I toured the town’s facilities and functions, one at a time, asking many questions in the process. As far as my little brain could figure, there wasn’t much for me to involve myself with. Clermans was the base of operations for the mines and the quarries and the lumberyards and the hunters of the northern mountains. The folks here had been doing what they were doing for centuries. Everything was up to date with the current standards and practices and was as optimized as it could ever get. In fact, I even identified some practices and methods that other towns and villages of the Roseland could benefit from by implementing. Overall, I was happy with the current state of Clermans. So I shifted my attention to the future and saw a tiny little crease. The youngsters were learning things on the job, and the process varied greatly depending on whom they were learning from.

“If you were to teach me how to track and hunt as good as you do, where would you start?” I asked Jehan.

“That is an interesting question,” said Jehan, and he thought about it long before giving me an hour-long lecture on the basics.

“Who else is as good as you?” I asked, after having patiently listened to him.

“Oh, there is this old man. His name is-” Jehan gave me a name.

“Would he agree with the things that you have just told me?”

“Hmm. Some, yes. Some, no.”

So I called for the town’s seniors and explained what I wanted.

“That’s… a bit confusing, to be honest,” said one of them, scratching his balding head.

“I am not talking about the expertise itself,” I tried to make it as simple as I could, “but the way skills and expertise are passed down to the young ones.”

“For what, though? Isn’t smack on the head good enough of teaching?”

“Generally, yes,” I sighed and continued, “but by everyone agreeing to train their underlings in the same steps and methods, at the end of the day-” I scratched my head, trying to come up with the right words. “So when you see one, you instantly know what the man is capable of and at what level, no matter from whom and where he trained.”

“Hmm. That does make sense,” said an old quarryman, rubbing his chin. From the operation’s side, it would make things a whole lot easier to decide who does what.

Thus I assigned the town a project that, in essence, was a task to standardize and institutionalize fields of trades specific to Clermans. It would take them many years to complete, during which the best of the best in their respective fields would gather and argue and dissect and document decades of their experience and knowledge into chunks of digestible sections.

“Do tell me how it goes every now and then,” I made a small request and, satisfied, backed out. It felt good kicking things into motion but not having to be in the actual moving bit. Perhaps that was why men were hungry for power, I pondered.

I got my shin kicked by Anna, though, for she was not happy with me spending time in Clermans every third day. This greedy little child wanted one-hundred percent of my attention.

‘You are mine and mine alone!’ she said.

###

Despite my guilty feeling for not doing anything much productive, I must have enjoyed the time, for the days have flown by too quickly. Before I knew it, the winter had come.

I had not brought my sled with me, but it was OK. Jehan gave me his old one and built a brand new sled for Anna. We, the children, had it good and spent much of our daytime speeding down the snow-covered slope. The only trouble was that I had to carry Anna’s back up, but the fun was worth it.

The Baroness and I went out for a stroll from time to time, trailing Anna behind us by the rope as she sat on her little sled. It was one such day, after a night’s snow, that Anna and I fell off a small cliff.

We were out in the late afternoon and had walked some distance from the villa. The Baroness and I were talking about something I cannot exactly remember. We were on the outskirt of the woods. The pine trees were burdened with the foamy snow, branches sagging a bit. Then, after a while, we realized we had not heard the tinkling of the tiny bell around Anna’s wrist for some time.

“Where has Anna gone?” muttered the Baroness, looking around. Her precious was nowhere to be found, and my heart sank. Where the heck-

I spotted little footsteps on the snow. While her mother and I were not paying attention, the little demon had walked off towards the woods. Naturally, I followed the trail.

“Milady?”

No answer. No tinkle tinkle of her bell either. I turned around and saw the worried expression on Her Ladyship’s face. The footsteps were heading into the woods, and I, too, became concerned. If Anna were just running around, surely we would hear the bell. I kept calling as I walked through the trees that filled the space like pillars put there by an irresponsible architect. The air was chill, and occasionally a branch above my head would sway a little and drop a shovelful of snow on me. The Baroness followed me, about a dozen feet behind, looking around, calling her daughter’s name.

The child’s footsteps stopped. There was no more. Baffled, I looked around.

“Milady?!”

I thought I heard Anna’s bell. I did hear the Baroness gasping, and then- this motherfucking brat of a-! From above, laughing like a maniac, Anna dropped down on me. This piece of shit had climbed up the tree like a bear cub and had been waiting for me to come look for her. She landed and latched onto my back, and I stumbled uncontrollably forward by the sudden load and the impact. And that was when we got into trouble. Suddenly, my feet sunk in my stumbling steps. The uneven layer of the snow had hidden the sudden slope underneath. With a loud yelp, I lost my balance and fell flat on my face. I rolled over onto my back just as I began to slide down the slope headfirst. In the process, Anna had lost her grip on me and rolled off, and she, too, was sliding down a couple of feet behind, or above, me.

“Anna! René!”

I heard the Baroness shrieking. Unfortunately, we were gaining speed, and I was worried that I might crash headfirst into something I desperately flailed my arms. I managed to narrowly miss crashing into a tree with my head, but instead, my left shoulder hit the tree’s trunk. The collision spun me around. It was painful, but I reached out and successfully wrapped my arms around the trunk. The momentum straightened my body on the slope, and I then realized, feeling the sensation of gravity pulling my lower body, that I had just saved myself from falling off a cliff.

‘Was there a cliff here?’ I gasped for air, holding onto the trunk above my head with both hands. I was bent backward a bit, face up and struggling, as my weight below the chest dangled in the air over the edge. Then there came the sound of something coming fast. Screaming and flailing and tinkling, Anna sled past me, spraying white snow all over my face. I was not thinking straight and reached out and grabbed her collar with a hand just as she launched over the edge. Mind you; I still was a child at the time. The extra load was too much for my kiddie strength to handle. I could not keep my other arm around the trunk, and we fell. It felt slow, and we dropped for eternity. I remember the distant screaming of the Baroness and feeling sorry for her. There wasn’t much I could do in the air except pulling Anna into my embrace. I hoped she would live… but come to think of it, it was all her fault!

###

Contrary to the dreadful sensation, the fall was rather short. The cliff was, fortunately, just some ten or so feet high. We landed on a fluffy bed of fresh snow, which softened the impact. I, though, had to bear the brunt of Anna’s weight on my chest as I held her tight in an embrace when I landed on my back. Thankfully nothing was broken. The fall though really knocked the air out of my lungs. Anna rolled off and stood up. She was trembling, having feared for her life for the first time in… how many millennia? I wheezed and coughed and slowly got on my feet.

“Anna, you ass!”

She did not respond, but her face was pale, and there was a distinct look of feeling sorry. I sighed and looked around. We landed on a small snow-covered clearing that was a rough circle horizontally dissected by a foot-wide stream. Beneath the white crystal sheet of ice, the shallow water kept trickling over the bed of pebbles, from God knows where to wherever the heck. The trees that lay before the cliff were densely packed, and their shadow gave off an ominous feeling. Yep, this was unfamiliar ground.

I sighed again and looked up, wondering how we would get back up there. From the high ground came the sound of desperate feet running on the snow.

“Anna! René!”

The Baroness’ panicking voice reached us.

“We are well, my Baroness! The young Lady is not hurt,” I shouted upwards. “Please do mind your steps!”

Some lumps of snow were kicked off and sprayed down on us. With much rustling and muffled profanities and struggling, the Baroness inched her way towards the edge and poked her head out. Her eyes quickly scanned us, and the face donned the expression of relief as she saw us standing and alright.

“Thank God, you are not hurt,” she said. Then her face went into the scolding mode. “Anna! That was horrendously reckless!”

The guilty child fidgeted and shuffled and made some hand gestures, apologizing. I rolled my eyes. The Baroness wrapped her left arm around a tree and reached the other out down to us.

“Anna, René, hold onto my hand. I shall pull you up.”

That was… not going to work, I figured. Her Ladyship’s hand was still well beyond our reach. I tried hoisting Anna up, but even then, it wasn’t enough. I took a step back and examined the cliff, but could not find anything that I could confidently place my weight on. There was no way up.

“My Lady, I am afraid this cliff is rather impossible for us,” I said, and the Baroness, having calmed down and come to her senses, reached the same conclusion. She retracted her hand.

“What shall I do, René?”

“My Baroness, please fetch Jehan. He would know what to do.”

“But…” the Baroness hesitated. She eyed her dear daughter. Then she made her mind up. “You are right. I shall fetch Jehan. Please do stay here and wait for my return.”

With that, the Baroness’ head disappeared from our view. I heard running footsteps, heading away from us. When I did not hear the Baroness’ footsteps anymore, I turned around and gave a sharp, much-deserved, spank on Anna’s bottom.

“Anna, you idiot! Look what trouble you have caused!”

Yes, she was sorry. Yes, she knew her stupid prank was not a good idea. But my Anna wouldn’t stand getting spanked and yelled at like that. She kicked me in the shin, and, in pain, I rolled on the ground, whimpered, and rubbed my leg.

We squatted down on the snow and waited, bundled up together like two little kids as we were. Thanks to the Baroness’ insistence in keeping us warm, Anna and I had come out of the villa in multiple layers of clothing. The cold wasn’t an issue, but I found the general ridiculousness of the situation quite frustrating. I sat there, rocking back and forth, muttering to myself, occasionally mixing in some profanities of my pre-rebirth days. That somewhat annoyed Anna, but she knew she did me wrong.

It was when some time had passed since the Baroness went to fetch Jehan that Anna sat up and gestured for me to shut the fuck up.

“Why you little piece of-”

I trailed off. Anna was intensely staring across the stream, into the shadows cast by the trees. She slowly rose up and, with ever-so-careful steps, stood before me, still staring ahead. From my squatted position, I looked up, puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

She half-turned and put a finger before her lips. I shut up and stared into the darkness, trying to see or hear what got Anna’s attention. There was a slight shift in Anna’s stance. She was on alert, ready to pounce.

Few more silent seconds passed, and from the shadows, a paw as big as my head stepped out into the open, followed by the rest of the body that made up a wolf. It was then that I, aided by the display of the bared fangs, heard the low growling. I froze in place. A chill ran down my spine, and my heart was beating so fast I could not breathe. The wolf was as big as a writing desk and had a pair of amber eyes that bore into me. Its ash-gray coat had scattered patches where hairs were lacking, proudly telling the untold stories of numerous shitstorms this beast had fought and survived.

The wolf was less than twenty feet from us, across a foot-wide stream. I fell into a fear-induced trance-like state and could not move at all until my eyes caught a slight movement in my view. I focused hard and realized it was Anna’s hand. Anna had her back turned on me. She stood before me slightly to the left and blocking half of my field of view, and her right hand, about my eye-height, was telling me to stand up. It took me great willpower and concentration, but I eventually managed to stand up. With the height came a better view over Anna’s little head, and what I saw made me feel worse. It wasn’t just a wolf. It was a pack of wolves. To the left, I could see three more had emerged from the woods. To the right, another big wolf, this time gray-silver, trotted out into the clearing, coming to a stop next to the first one. The air was filled with the wolves’ low-pitched growling, which rumbled over the snow-covered ground and made it hard for my heart to keep its beat.

Anna, still facing forward, reached out her right hand behind, looking for mine. Holding my breath, I slowly moved my left hand, inch by inch. As soon as our hands met, I felt a great tug as Anna’s small head dashed across my field of vision. I quickly regained my balance and ran, holding onto Anna’s hand. We ran to our right, down the stream, wading through the snow, deeper into the woods.

###

I was out of breath, and I felt my thighs stiff and burning. We had run too fast for too long. We had dashed through the thick of woods, tumbled down numerous slopes, and jumped over two or three narrow streams. I had no idea where we were, but that was not the main problem. The wolves were still after us, and we kept running. All the while, I held Anna’s small hand in mine as if the fate of the world depended on it. Anna had so far managed to keep up, but it was evident the fatigue was piling up. Her face was red, the little mouth gasping for air and wheezing, and her frail legs were giving out.

Then I saw it. Or her? Whatever. A bird-like woman was perched on the branch of a tree some yards before us, watching us with curious eyes. Her face was of a young maiden, with large dark glistening eyes and braided brown hair, a greedy smirk on its pale face, but the rest of the body resembled an eagle. A human-sized eagle, but with white feathers. It was a harpy-, but I had no time to marvel at this creature. I bit my lips and pushed forward as fast as I could, urging Anna to keep up. I heard the flap of the wings. The harpy was following us from above.

“It is futile, my delicious children!”

It obviously was a female voice but sounded rather like a piece of metal being scraped on a rock. For now, I decided I would ignore her. Anna and I kept running.

“Stop running!” screamed the annoying woman, flying low over the treetops. “Die and be meat already!”

“Help us!”

I shouted. That cost me some precious air. A burst of hysteric laughter came back as the reply.

“No. Once the wolves get you, I could easily snatch a free chunk or two. I’d rather have you dead.”

“As the Baron’s councilman, I demand your assistance!”

“I answer to no Baron, but my queen!” the harpy snapped.

I was running out of breath. My legs buckled. Anna, her face distorted, was on the verge of collapse.

Suddenly I felt a rush in the air and instinctively pushed Anna aside. She lost her balance, yelped, and crashed into the snow. Something heavy pounced on my back, and I fell flat on my face. A wolf, the ash-gray, was on me. The beast was having a go at the back of my neck, which, thankfully, was wrapped in a thick knitted muffler. The sharp tips of the fangs, though, penetrated the material and punctured and scratched my skin as the wolf shook me vigorously. I feared my neck was going to snap at any moment. Another wolf had joined in and was trying to tear through my butthole, but the multiple layers of pants, cotton, linen, and leather got in the way. Still, it was a real pain in the arse. The harpy’s delighted laugher raining down from the sky made everything worse.

“Yarr!”

I heard Anna screaming and tiny feet running on the snow. There was a meaty thud, and the weight on my back lifted as Anna collided with the wolf. The one that was mauling my bottom growled and snapped at Anna. I rolled over just in time to witness the wolves jumping on the tiny girl. She was quickly brought down, and the wolves bit and clawed every available part of the child. One was gnawing on Anna’s small head and was trying to crack the skull open. Another had a firm bite on Anna’s crotch and was trying to tear access to the innards. Once again, the several layers of winter clothing got in the way, and the wolves, frustrated, clamped their teeth and were tearing the layers by chunks every bite, aiming for the tender flesh underneath. In the meantime, the harpy had landed on a high branch and was watching the scene, licking her lips. The wolves did not seem to mind her, and they focused on ripping us apart. Yet the Rolseland’s child was screaming and kicking and flailing in rage, and the bell on her wrist tinkle-tinkled like crazy.

“Anna!”

I screamed, but I couldn’t move. A wolf was on me and was trying to bite my face off. It was the big ash-gray one, the first one that had appeared. I had my hands on the beast’s neck and was desperately pushing it away from my face. The wolf was also clawing on my chest, shredding through clothes layer by layer, but I did not even notice this. My eyes were fixed on Anna. My Anna, my Firis. The sole purpose of my regained life. She was about to die-

Or so I thought. Anna’s bleeding hand shot out from the frenzy, between a wolf’s hindlegs. The arm bent upward, and the hand grabbed some dangling balls. She squeezed hard and pulled. Real hard. Maybe it was the adrenalin. Or her innate power. The little girl ripped the balls off a wolf, which, naturally, resulted in the unfortunate beast howling like mad and whimpering and jumping around. The others jumped and snapped around with bared fangs, mistaking the situation as a new foe had attacked their kin. Even in a struggle of my own, I kept my eyes on my girl. Anna, soaked in her own blood, rolled over and grabbed a rock that was conveniently within her arm’s reach. With a beastly roar, she shot up and smashed the head of the nearest wolf. There was a momentary confusion among the wolves, and not missing a beat, Anna dashed through the beasts surrounding her, towards me. She threw the rock, and it smacked the back of the ash-gray’s head. With a painful yelp, the wolf tried to turn around, but Anna was faster. She lunged forward and… thrust her small hand into the ash-gray wolf’s rear exit, which, to be honest, was a totally unexpected mode of attack. The wolf, in peril, of course, twisted around to maul this crazy little girl. But Anna raised her free arm, which got bitten in place of her face. The wolf clamped down hard and shook furiously, but Anna was stubborn. Screaming in pain herself, she clawed the wolf from its inside. The little girl and the wolf, now locked in a death-ring with each other, rolled on the snow. Despite being out of breath and in shock, I managed to roll away and raised myself to a crouch. The rest of the wolves were about to jump onto Anna, but to my surprise, the second largest one, the silver-fur, growled and snapped, and the wolves stopped in their track. They just stood there and watched the struggle between Anna and their member. A fight of who would out-evil the other.

After much whimpering and screaming and clawing and kicking, the big ash-gray let go of Anna and launched itself into the air. With a squelching pop, Anna’s hand slid out of the arse, her hand a fist covered in shit and glistening red blood and clenching shreds of God-knows-what.

Panting, wincing, bleeding, and crying, Anna crawled over to me, and with a heavy grunt, she got back on her feet and stood before me, facing the wolves. Her counterpart growled and limped towards its kins. Its bowel having been tormented, the beast was in immense pain. It tried to shake the pain off, scampered around a bit, growled and snapped at Anna, but its hind legs were giving out.

And, all of a sudden, the silver-fur jumped on the weakened ash-gray. The rest of the wolves whimpered and backed off, as the powerful jaw clamped on the wounded wolf’s neck. Despite being the bigger of the two, the ash-gray was helpless. It did try to put up some resistance, but the strength was draining too fast.

“A betrayal!” The harpy’s voice rang from the tree. During the struggle of life and death, I had forgotten about her. Perched on a branch, the smirking hag watched the dying wolf in the mouth of the silver-fur.

“And thus rises a new leader!” the harpy announced, amused. I hated her tone.

The ash-gray died and went limp. The wolves, tails between legs, gathered around their new pack leader and lowered their heads. Then the silver-fur turned to face us.

“For the last time,” I shouted, desperate, “in the name of the great La Rose I command you, harpy. You shall help us!”

“Then I demand the little girl.”

“How dare you!” I was furious. “This child is the rose-born. She IS the Roseland’s precious!”

“No matter, little boy,” the harpy smirked, “looks like I will have easy scrap of meat regardless.”

She was right. While I had been foolishly occupied, the silver-fur pounced. I panicked, and my senses went into hyperdrive, and everything slowed down. In ever so slow-motion, Anna pushed me back. As I helplessly fell on my arse, I saw Anna, screaming, leap forward. Her fist ready to punch the wolf in the face. This was a four-year-old child. A girl. Her clothe torn in tatters and every seam burst, shedding cotton and droplets of dark liquids. Her winter pants, equally torn and pissed in and shat in. Every exposed part of her skin was bleeding from bites and cuts and clawed gashes. Yet she put herself between the wolves and me. To battle for my life. For her life, too, of course. I felt hot in me. For some reason, I felt Anna would be OK. She would defeat this beast. No, it no longer was what felt or hoped. I was sure. It was given. Why had I even feared? For fuck’s sake, I was the bloody herald of Firis!

‘Oh, My Lady Firis, lend me thy strength in this time of desperation.’

The sky crackled. It turned burning red, filled with the black smoke of burning flesh and broken wagons. Distant castle walls tumbled and scattered to ruins as the triumphant marched across the battlefield on which butchered corpses of the enemy littered in tens of thousands. Led by the inevitable, the undefeated army carried thousands of banners that flapped madly in the harrowing wind. The trumpets blared, announcing the victory that had been promised and promptly delivered.

In the air, mid-leap, Anna was glowing. For a reason unknown to me, a thin strand of her now-messy hair caught my eyes. It flailed in the air and was beautiful and precious and-

-and the time returned to normal. The sky was back to its winter gray, and the smoke had cleared. Nothing was burning on the snow-covered ground. No more trumpets were heard. But the wolf, the silver-fur, had fear in its eyes. It was in a panic. The wolf twisted mid-leap, trying to get the fuck away from this supernatural monstrosity that was about to punch its face. And punch she did. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Anna knuckled the wolf in the forehead, liquefying the brain that squelched out through the ears. At this exact time, an arrow had flown in from out of nowhere and pierced the wolf’s neck. By the time the beast dropped onto the snow, the silver-fur was already dead.

“Damn you, child!” I heard the harpy cussing as she fled into the sky. The wolves, too, were fleeing from the scene.

“Milady! René!”

I turned my head to see Jehan rushing in through the woods, with his bow ready in his hands. The Baroness was far behind the young ranger. I faced forward again. Anna was on her feet, but she was trembling like a wet dog. I grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Anna was pale, and she reeked of urine and shit and sweat, just as I did. There was a dotted ring of punctured blood wells around her head where a wolf had mauled and tried to crack open the skull, and through these punctures lines of dark red blood rolled down on the face. I quickly checked her body. I carefully pressed on limbs and bones to see if anything was broken. I lifted her clothes and checked the color underneath the bruised skin, looking for signs of internal bleeding.

“How the fuck are you still alive?”

I pulled her tight into me and wrapped my arms around her small head. I lowered myself a bit and rubbed my cheek on hers and kissed her bloodied temple.

Jehan reached us, huffing and puffing.

“Is the lady hurt?”

“She is indeed, but it appears nothing life-threatening.”

“Thank God!”

Jehan then saw the corpses of the two dead wolves. He was stunned.

“Ash and Silver? Of all the wolves in the area, Ash and Silver?”

He noticed my confused face and sighed.

“These two are the most notorious of them all. Thank God you are alive!”

‘Thank Firis,’ I thought to myself. Anna, still buried deep in my chest, tried to say something. With her hands, of course. I took a step back to give her some room, relieved and happy we were alive, but my smile went away as soon as I saw her face.

‘Fetch me that harpy,’ she demanded.

“Now, now, milady, this is not the time for that,” I ran my hand over her forehead, wiping the stream of blood. I meant to clear them but ended up smearing them all over her head. “We must tend to your wound first.”

“Hmpf!”

At this moment, the Baroness crashed into us two little children. She wrapped her arms around us into a tight bundle. She was sobbing and hiccuping and, at the same time, was smiling. While she was busy checking and fussing on Anna, I carefully studied the little girl’s face. Her rage had died down a lot, but there still was a flicker of furiousness in her eyes. When Anna held a grudge, she held it for long and would not let it go. Anna would remember, and years later, the defiant harpies of the north would learn the literal meaning of the word eradication. As I had said, although she was my precious little thing, Anna still was a ruthless monster.