Welcome to Snowy Village.

Welcome to Snowy Village. Pt 4


The light Engulfed the two men whole like a whale swallowing a tiny fish. Its annoying brilliance caused the men to shout out in accusations at each other for delaying the two men from coming to blows. The brightness was blinding, irritating, and overwhelming. It was subtle, but the presence of another person could be felt during this experience.


"What is....This!?" Joseph shouted into the overwhelming light.


"Another one of your damn tricks!?" Mathew shouted in response.


The two men found the floor disappear underneath them as they fell into this white background light. They fell for what felt like forever. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.


"Ahhhhhh!" Mathew and Joseph shouted into the vastness of the expanse.


As they fell, they felt frigidly cold; snow clashed with their faces, and it chilled their cheeks. The wind howled a deafening howl through their ears as it moved past them. The panic of a free fall was before them. Feeling their eyes freeze, they both closed them to protect against the harsh winter conditions.


Then, it hit the men suddenly as they struck the snow-covered ground, knocking the wind out of them. There was no doubt that if they had been living that, they would have been dead. The fall alone was enough to turn a mortal into a human pancake. Still, the pain was real as it shot through the two men's bodies. They lay placid on the ground, regaining strength, groaning how much the fall sucked.


"It's like what Al-Alim said, 'It's not the fall that hurts but the sudden stop at the end.' Oh, was he right!" Mathew stated while his body was wreathed in pain.


"Why the hell is it so Dam cold out here!?" Joseph stated while catching his breath and slowly pulling his composure back together.


Mathew looked around and noticed someone standing between two mud huts. "Is that a dam kid!" Even with his body burning, he clamored back up to his feet, and he placed his right hand over his eyes to obtain a better view of what was to be beheld.


He was staring at a child who was no more than eleven years old, who had white and black paint on his face with a hint of red and a jester cap on his head. The Child wore rags of wool and sheepskin that were draped over one shoulder. The Child was shorter than Mathew and way shorter than Joseph. He carried a wooden walking stick that had a cowbell on the end of it.


Joseph noticed Mathew heading toward the Child between the two huts made of clay and straw. He let out a cry as he rose to his feet, still disorientated, then followed Mathew staggered. Mathew moved with haste despite the pain felt from his would-be injuries. When he noticed the paint on the Child's face, he wondered what it was.


The Child didn't move or react to Mathew walking up to him; in fact, the Child was looking past Mathew. Mathew snapped his fingers in front of him, but still no response. "say something!? What is this place!? Who are you!? what is with the fall to get here!?" The Child did not respond or even react to Mathew like he even existed. The Child's eyes were eerie, dead of emotion, dead of any soul that was once in them.


Joseph caught up to Mathew, grabbed him by the shoulder, and struck Mathew's Jaw with a right hook. Mathew got knocked over with the sudden and severe blow, going tumbling into the snow. Joseph felt immediate burning and aching, like he had just jammed a finger after striking Mathew's face. "God damn Cold!" Joseph said, holding his right hand with his left. Joseph's gaze then turned to the expressionless Child with the painted face and the jester cap. "Nope!" Joseph shook his head and headed to one of the two stone and straw huts.


The doorway was simple, with a massive dead animal skin blocking the door and fighting the cold from coming in. Moving the animal curtain aside, he had a clear view of the interior of the hut. Small wooden table with a few chairs, fireplace with a full wood storage. Fireplace kettle for making stews, a couple of iron plates, and a couple of clay plates. There was a wooden keg with some flame retardant oil on the bottom half; upon closer inspection, the wooden keg was meant for water storage or to melt ice outside to make more water. Then there was the chair, draped in furs with a lion's head at the top of it, with two massive ivory horns sticking out vertically and upwards at the corners of the top of the chair. Joseph moved the chair over by the fireplace and proceeded to sit in it. Very comfortable, he felt something hard inside of the cushions, "a stick."


It was at this time Mathew found his way to the hut Joseph was staying in. "Son of a bitch, my Jaw. Care to finish or even enlighten what the hell is going on?" Mathew asked, holding his Jaw still.


"We didn't make it. You deserved that strike to the Jaw for killing a close friend and my wife during your invasion. Leave me to myself. My heart aches to know that my loved ones are being treated far better than this place. " Mathew stood looking at Joseph sitting in the chair for a moment. It was at this moment that Mathew realized their families were missing and why they weren't with them. "Tomorrow's a new day. I'll stop by, and we can address this then." Mathew led himself out of the house, leaving Joseph in that chair. "You have eternity to address it," Joseph stated to himself.