The wind picks up the following day. Our tree long behind us, Muriel and I continue our arduous trek through the snow. Water is not a problem. Any time either of us is thirsty, we grab a hunk of snow from the ground and allow it to melt in our mouths. But snow does nothing for our empty stomachs, and even less for our exposure to the elements.

Every step I take makes me question Aldridge more. How can this be heaven? Heaven is the land of eternal sunshine and warmth, where there is no suffering and no sadness. Yet here we are, freezing to the bone, doing everything we can to survive.

More than once I question my choice to come here. My mother told me to go through the forest. At least there we would have some sort of shelter, and with Muriel’s bow and arrows, we could find food for as long as she retrieved her arrows.

Then again, we do have food. It literally walked up to us last night in the form of a cat. But Muriel, the animal lover, decided she’d rather have it perched on her shoulder than in our stomachs.

“Do you think there are any animal around here?” My stomach grumbles and reminds me of my appetite.

Muriel grips her bow. “I don’t know. Best not think of it and press on. What’ll come with come.”

I grit my teeth and follow her footsteps. She does not understand my suggestion in the slightest. Perhaps the forest would not have been much different after all. We would still be as hungry as we are now, but instead of a cat perched on Muriel’s shoulder, we would have an oxlark. I burst out in laughter when I think of that massive creature with it four feathery legs and bird-like head draped over Muriel’s shoulder. The thing is probably twice as large as either of us.

Yet the more I suffer, the more I realize this to be a test of my faith. If I give up my beliefs in Aldridge as heaven now, and the Angels as our true creators and lords, my faith could not have been so strong to begin with. They are watching over us with every step we take. They gave us the tree last night to keep us warm and alive, and they brought the cat to us to fill our bellies. If only Muriel, the non-believer, would not have gotten in the way.

Is this their way to tell me to leave her? The church never approved of same-sex relationships. But at the same time, why would they have allowed us to make it this far together, sparing the two of us instead of splitting us up?

As I ponder these things, the landscape shifts. Instead of remaining a flat expanse, it begins to descend, turning into a gradual hill. The tree from last night proves to not be the only tree in Aldridge, as more trees like it dot the landscape. They are nothing like the evergreen trees of the Beriac forest, but rather are structures with dead leaves instead of needles. If nothing else, they provide us some protection against the winds when we get close.

Muriel and I break by one, facing to the north. At least, we can only pray such a direction is north. We intentionally slept with our heads pointed away from our footsteps the night before in hopes it would give us a sense of direction. But if our footsteps have been curving instead of staying straight as we hoped, we may not be heading south in the first place.

Muriel picks up a clump of snow and holds it to her cat to lick.

“Do you think this snowfield ever ends?” I ask.

She takes another clump of snow for herself. “I don’t know. No book ever mentioned anything factual about Aldridge. All I know is it’s a large area where the dead are supposed to live in paradise with their creators. This snowfield may continue all the way to the City of Angels. A human might not be able to traverse it.”

The City of Angels. Is that our goal? I suppose there is no other goal we can have at this point. There is no turning back. We have to continue south as far as we can, hoping one day to come to the King of the Angels and ask for his assistance. My mother says my emerald has more to it than I imagine. If the elves understand it, an Angel naturally would know even more.

The cat, Holly, purrs when Muriel scratches between its eyes. Yet this is an idle activity, for her attention is really to the north.

“Is something the matter?”

She breaks out of her trance. “Besides our situation, nothing really. It’s just it seems a bit darker to the north than the south.”

“That is not really a surprise. It is getting late in the day.” My stomach growls to remind me it is also getting late on us. Muriel refastens her belt a little tighter as if in response.

“Let’s hope that’s all it is. Don’t use your magic in any case. If those are Black Wings, I don’t want to attract them any more than we already have.”

Despite my growing despair, our situation really is improving with every mile we put behind us. The trees grow more common, and before long, a forest grows on our right. Beyond that, the snow seems a bit looser under our feet, as if it is somehow melting. In this cold, I am not sure how such a thing is possible, but it is happening nonetheless.

Our true saving grace comes as the last rays of sunshine break through the clouds in the horizon. While giving only a few minutes of daylight, they reveal a cluster of structures resembling houses with a small wall surrounding them. Muriel and I take one look at each other before bursting into a sprint to the first sign of life in two days.

My faith has been answered. By holding true, we have found a new world to live in. There will be Angels waiting to welcome us with open arms, leading us to a new home where Muriel can meet her parents again, and I can reestablish my kingdom. I will never be separated from Muriel’s breads again.

The village, despite its sturdy wall foundation, is unguarded. There are no men patrolling the tops of the walls, nor at the gate. The gate itself is a battered mess, lying rusted on the ground. In this snow, we have no way of determining if it had fallen days, months, or even years ago.

“Hello?” Muriel holds her hands out to project her voice. “Is anyone here?”

There is no response. The streets are steeped in snow and grime. Nobody has cleaned them for ages by the looks of it.

I knock on a door in hopes of response, but it echoes hollowly back at me.

“So much for a gift from heaven,” I mutter. The next house is much of the same. The next house can’t survive our knock, and the door collapses inwards. Holly jumps off Muriel’s shoulder and darts inside.

“Come back here!” She chases the cat to the dark. But dark isn’t a problem for me. I hold out my staff and concentrate my magical energy into it, but something seems to block it. I only manage to get a tiny glow out, but it’s enough to illuminate the room.

When the light brightens the room, it makes me wish I didn’t have any magic in the first place. Red blood stains the walls, with some even trying to write something out in words no longer legible. There are no bodies, but there is no question as to the fate of the people who once lived here.

Muriel picks up Holly in the corner. “I thought I told you not to use ma—”

She drops her bow with a clang when she turns around to the horrors of the room.

“Let’s find another place,” I say.

She does not protest for a second.

House after house suffer the same fate.

Muriel plops on the ground outside a house. “I don’t want to sleep where somebody died. The street’s perfectly fine.”

My stomach grumbles again. “Maybe there is some food in one of these houses.”

“You can’t steal from the dead! They worked hard for what they got, and you have to respect their memory.”

I lose it. “You won’t let me eat that cat, you won’t let me search those houses, and you don’t understand my struggle! I’m not used to eating nothing!”

Muriel giggles.

“What’s so funny?”

She leans back. “You finally abandoning your ‘noble speak.’ It’s much nicer to hear you talk like one of us.”

I cover my mouth. I cannot speak like a commoner. I am a princess. “My apologies. But I am hungry and frustrated.”

Muriel’s smirk disappears. “I suppose we’ll have to do something about that. At least it’ll stop your complaining.” She notches her bow and takes aim right at me. My heart pounds. Is she going to end me here? Has our love become nothing more than a farce? Yet, despite my fear, I cannot move my lips. I am petrified.

She looses the arrow, but it does not strike me. It flies past my ear and strikes something behind which gives a shriek and collapses.

She picks the creature off the ground – some kind of bird with sharp talons and a beak so sharp it is a miracle it does not slice Muriel’s hands open.

“Dinner,” she says.

The presence of warm food in our bellies feels better than anything I ever imagined. The bird is a little fatty, and without seasonings has little to no taste, but it at least gives us something to continue on with.

Muriel picks the last bits of her leg off its bone. “I kind of expected carrion fowl to show up eventually. It doesn’t matter what the climate, they’ll always appear for a meal. I only have to wonder if they had come here for the people in the houses or us.”

“But there is nobody in the houses.”

Muriel places her hand on one of the steps leading up to the house. “Indeed. So they must’ve been for us. But do you understand yet? Aldridge isn’t heaven. Heaven doesn’t have towns like this.”

“This is a test, nothing more. The Angels are testing us to see if we keep out faith through their trials.”

She heaves a sigh. “You’re hopeless. Whatever, I won’t try and convince you now. But I do want to survive, so we have to come up with a plan. We can’t live here forever.”

The cold wind whips around and stabs my bare skin like knives. “It would be nice to have some warmer clothes.”

“I have to agree. But there are things you don’t do, and that includes stealing from the dead. We’re going to be warm enough for the night, and I think it’s going to get warmer as we get further south.”

Such a concept seems so foreign after a lifetime of cold and snow in Northern Aldridge. But if Aldridge is supposed to be a warm paradise, and the City of Angels is its center, then it must gradually change the further we go. I had never lived in a world where people could walk around outside in comfort.

“Then what do you suggest?” I ask.

“It’s getting darker to the north, so the Black Wings are probably on our tails. We’re way too far from home to still see their traces if they weren’t. We’ll need to get somewhere we can hide from them instead of this open snowfield. I’d suggest that forest.”

The forest looms maybe two miles beyond the city.

“It seems dark.”

Muriel throws the remains of the bird in the fire, which fills the air with its sweet aroma. It seems a waste, but with neither of us able to eat another bite and no way of carrying it, we do not have any other option.

“That’ll help keep the Black Wings away. They drink sunlight like water, so a forest is probably a less than optimal place.”

I suppose she’s right. I throw my last bone in the fire, which makes our shadows dance on the walls. I lie on the ground. “We should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Muriel agrees and lies next to me, with her cat curling up by her hair. With the forest to our side, we no longer stood the risk of losing our direction.