The hill

It was on 1234.
On the outskirts of a small town on York, surrounded by a fog so thick it was hardly possible to see just two steps beyond, there was a hill so high it was almost impossible to see its end, with slopes so steep and rugged that anyone who would have seen them would have desisted the effort of climbinf even before trying to.

However, on the full moon nights, when the silvery star's light traspassed the cloud of thick fog that hid the huge mountain, it could be seen in the distance, at the top, a small wooden house built precariously on the edge of the cliff.

Locals would say, that small cabana had been centuries ago the home of a poor family who could not do more than cultivate the barren land surrounding the cabin. By then, the sky was clear and the mountain could be seen from several miles away. The gentle slopes showed the path that leaded to the summit, surrounded by shrubs and wild flowers whose aroma accompanied the walkers throughout the journey.

Those who still remember the story, would say that at harvest time the father went down to the village driving a little cart pulled by a donkey, beside him two little kids too thin for their age, running around, and in the wagon, the few groceries they had managed to harvest from their lands. And every year, no matter how hard the winter had been, their vegetables were always the best, the largest and tastiest on the region.

Maybe that's why the Inquisition arrested them all, and sent them to the gallows that stood in the center of the nearest city square, where the fires burned them alive for the crime of being called witches. The two boys, ages 4 and 8, were the last ones to succumb to the flames.

Since that awful day, both the valley and the hill had been shrouded in a thick, dense fog that rises only once a year, for a heartbeat, always the same day, at the same time. The time the pyres that consumed the four villagers were turned on, that fateful dawn when the High Inquisitors sentence was fulfilled.

Selenne

The ground beneath her body rumbled. Shivers ran all the way up through her spine, making her all the more aware of the goose bumps on her skin.
Even if she actually knew it couldn’t be possible, she felt something smooth against her bare skin, caring it, protecting it from the chilly air. She could sense her fingers and her feet again. And she was lying on the top of something. It was soft, and shaggy, like some animals fur.

She tried to move slightly, knowing that wherever she was, she was not alone. Her arms barely obeyed her, and she found out quite difficult even to raise a couple of inches. She was tied up.

Suddenly, her eyes were wide open. She didn’t care about being noticed anymore. She was wrapped up on furry blankets and tied with ropes, securing her to the wooden sledge carrying her on.
She saw a muscular, blond young man watching her curious. She heard him saying something when he saw her eyes opening, but she just couldn’t make it through. Not like she cared, anyway.

Selenne closed her eyes again and tried to remember. Her head felt foggy, with random memories dancing all over her mind. She could recall the piercing slash of the frozen wind, the pain on her feet because of the snow, the lack of strength in her muscles. She remembered the sight of her ancient village, the one in which she had grown up.

It seemed to be so near, yet too far away. Everything was white. The little town was covered by a snow white carpet, buried under the weight of the hard winter weather.
And the blizzard. Above everything else, she remembered the blizzard.
Even then she could see it coming after her, chasing her. Then, just darkness.

Her silvery eyes looked for the boy kneeling besides her, observing her. She wanted to ask him where were they taking her, where were they going, what was gonna happen to her. But when she opened her mouth, all she could do was let go a soft groan.
By the way he was looking at her, she knew he hasn’t seen one like her before. He was human. And he was young. He just hadn’t live enough dawns to recognize her kind.

He was staring at her like she was some kind of prey, some kind of achievement that could actually make him look brave and grown up. Something he could show his friends when he got home.
She glared at him, and she could see how uneasy that made him feel. By the time he had taken her, she was weak and unconscious. She was vulnerable. Otherwise, he would have never succeeded.

She struggled trying to free herself, but the knots that kept the ropes around her were far well done. She wasn’t strong enough to tear them apart. The young man held his hand in her chest to pull her back on the sledge. He obviously didn’t want his prey to run away.

She scowled at him, her fists closing in anger under the furry blankets. Her liquid silver eyes glowed in the moonlight, giving her an even wilder appearance. She frightened him.
She realized she should have seemed fragile when he found her, completely naked, almost dead frozen in the ice. But that didn’t make her the least less dangerous. He just didn’t know with whom he was messing around.
But he would. She was gonna make sure of that.