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month record rogue 3 1 1
She climbs and finds a resting spot among the endless clouds. Not at the peak of the mountain, but at the far end of the snowfield on the other side of the mountain.
Behind her, footprints both deep and shallow are scattered in the snow. She sees every step, remembers every step. It is like the thread of fate: a knot wherever she stopped, stumbled, and picked herself up again.
Magallan can see clearly where she took the first step.
It was an ordinary afternoon. Her mother had the yellow pages open on her lap, and was trying to sell things to whoever was on the other end of the phone in a voice both coarse and kindly.
On the muted TV, a gray flightless fowlbeast hits the screen with its stubby, black wings. The young Magallan seems to hear its call, so she lifts a leg, puts it down, and slowly lifts the other.
She does this over and over again. She hears her mother put the phone and the yellow pages on the ground and call her father, grandmother, neighbors, and even passing Messengers. All to witness her memorable first time crawling.
It was a special moment that was worth the audience. Little Venta crawls backwards towards the TV, then slowly turns around, reaching towards the fowlbeast within.
Backwards? Sounds about right for her. She always finds a way, no matter how winding the path.
As the memories flash through her mind, she lies prone on the sled, sliding from the top of the mountain and through the snowfield on the slope.
Bang!
The snow is like the blanket that covered her when she was a baby.
It takes a while for her to come to her senses, or rather, to wake up from an infant's slumber.
The snow in front and above her is thick and heavy. She crawls slowly backwards, gradually emerging from the snow, and carefully stands up.
Magallan shakes off the past. Ice crystals return to the great snowfield. Her first encounter with Sami reminds her of a saying that she heard while studying at the Exploration Society.
'We are all children before Sami.'
'It is waiting for you to find It.'
