《Frozen Sun》 Cold It¡¯s always cold here. Toes are always frozen, fingers likewise. It gets to the point you can no longer remember the feeling in your hands. It¡¯s just as well, not feeling your hands helps you forget about the blood on them. I haven''t felt the cold for some time now. After a while, this harsh land freezes your consciousness as well and you cease to feel anything at all, only numb. There once was a time I felt the weight of the rifle in my hands, but not anymore. That time has long since passed. The cities are warm, much warmer than the towns and villages that surround them, but the people inside are just as numb. Yet we can still feel this forsaken country''s wounds, and know it is the fault of the Authorities. We chose the Authorities to rule the Frozen Country, and they betrayed us. The ones we handpicked to be our leaders lead us to destruction. Yes, this country is more powerful than ever, but its people are weak, frozen, and numb. We are suffocating under our own power, for we are the cold and powerless. They wish to take me as well, the Authorities that is. They take all the strong young men in this land for their army. That is where the real heat is, in their barracks and camps; big roaring fireplaces to which the whole world bows down to. But I would rather be cold. I would rather die for the morals I believe in than live fighting for the ones I do not. I would rather be frozen. *************** The first time I saw her was on one of the rare occasions I went into the city. Even frozen outcasts like me need to eat every once in a while, though it is all too often, too rarely. She was immediately recognizable as a foreigner from one of the warmer southern countries with her tanned skin. The sun doesn''t show itself around here, not since the factories clouded the sky and poisoned the air. She also wasn¡¯t dressed for the weather. Sure, she would have been fine for a few hours on a southern mountain, but not for the unrelenting frost of the Frozen Country. The sight was strange to me, I never saw a living foreigner outside the Authorities'' posts, where they were imported from the conquered countries to serve as maids and servants. I had seen a few dead ones in the bonfires the Authorities were fond of using to dispose of their victims, the ground had been too frozen to dig graves for centuries. Besides, the cemeteries would stretch out for miles. But this, a random girl on the street, this was new. She was obviously an escaped slave, probably off the train being she was still in her native clothing. It was also doubtless she would soon be discovered by the Authorities and brought back. She stuck out like a candle on a moonless night, huddled there against the brick wall. Once an officer''s rounds brought him this way, she would be found and dragged off to a dungeon somewhere until she was put to work or death, depending on how generous the Authorities felt that day. She might just end up starving if they forgot about her, as they were prone to doing. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I don''t know why I gave her my undercoat, I certainly couldn''t spare it. I may have never seen a foreigner outside the posts, but I had seen many of my own people freeze on these streets and just passed them by. I remember thinking the native garb might disguise her enough for an officer to miss her, if he didn''t look too closely. Even that was unlikely, officers noticed everything. But it gave her some hope of going unseen for at least a little while longer. The thought settled my long numb consciousness, though she didn¡¯t acknowledge my presence when I threw the coat at her. It didn¡¯t matter. Whether she chose to use it or not was her prerogative, I did my part by offering. I spotted her hiding beneath it from the corner of my eye as I walked away. Smart, she would be less likely to be noticed of a lost coat than as a person. *************** I was surprised when, the next morning, I found her in the same spot. At first, I figured she must have frozen to death in the night. But as I approached to investigate she stuck her arm out to offer my coat back. ¡°Keep it, ¡± I told her. ¡°I¡¯ll get another.¡± She shook her head and pushed the coat into my hands before quickly retreating. I grabbed her arm before she could get too far to reach. She struggled a bit, but I held firm. ¡°You''ll freeze without it.¡± I briefly wondered if she could understand me, then reminded myself I shouldn''t care. I couldn''t afford to care. I didn''t even know why I was trying to help this stupid girl. If she wanted to die, I should let her. I let her go. She sat down and glared at me. Her eyes held a kind of stubborn fire. They burned a bright, though admittedly muddy, green. There was also fear. She shivered. Her lips had taken on a purple hue, and her skin was considerably paler than the night before. She was frozen, too. I sighed. I really had no idea why I was doing this. ¡°Get up.¡± She scowled and shook her head. ¡°I said get up,¡± I said in a firmer tone, showing her the rifle hidden under my coat. That got her attention. She stood, eyes wide and full of masked fear, like a cornered street mutt. I reclaimed her arm. "You''re coming with me," I muttered. Her struggles didn''t do her much good; she was malnourished, and I was strong from years of fighting. Baker She didn''t run away, not that there was anywhere to run to. At least of her three options, I was better than winter''s wrath or the Authorities. Some contest that was, both would lead to her death. She didn''t question when I came back with blood splattered over my coat. She didn¡¯t speak at all until I came with one of our land''s thick coats to give her. "You don''t need help me," she said, huddling in a ball on the bed of the shack we were camped in, its occupants doubtlessly taken by the authorities some years ago. I threw the coat at her and knelt by the measly fire we just barely managed to keep alive. "Soon you''ll be strong enough to fend for yourself," I agreed. "then you won''t need my help anymore." She glared at me. "Didn''t you hear? I know my accent not that bad. I said I don''t need help, not now or later!" "Oh?" I questioned, for some reason unusually patient with her, "Then I suppose you could have hidden from the officers on your own? Where would you go if not here? You would have frozen to death long ago without me and you know it." She looked ready to protest, then reconsidered. A bitter expression crossed her face. She turned herself to look me in the eye. "What I owe you?" "What would you give?" Perhaps I should have asked what she had to give, all she had I had given to her. "Anything," her gaze was resolute, "I not be in your debt. Anything you want." My eyes narrowed in thought. She was clearly terrified of me, I saw it many times when she thought I wasn''t looking, though she refused to show it to my face. The only emotion she willingly displayed was defiance, and there was something admirable in that. She tried desperately to hide it, but she was fragile, lost in a frozen land she hadn¡¯t chosen to come to. Yet, she was determined to appear strong, even if I could see how weak she truly was. I knew what I wanted from her. "Stay here." "What?" she asked, clearly confused by my request. "Don''t go," I clarified. "Your company is all I ask for." Her mistrust was evident on her face. "You sure?" "Yes." I turned away. Not being alone was worth the extra effort to feed her. "My name is Rag''jah. What should I call you?" She frowned, "Doesn''t matter." "What about your name?" "Suhnyii. Can¡¯t say, no?" "Probably not." I shrugged. Southern names were nasal and difficult to pronounce. But I already had a name in mind for her. "I¡¯ll just call you Sun, because your skin is sun-kissed." She nodded. I continued to go through what I had collected from the day, turning my back to her for a moment. "Thank you," she whispered. **************** Sun eventually lost most of her tan, so I allowed her to accompany me on relatively safe excursions. She wasn''t allowed to talk unless I told her it was safe though, her accent was too recognizable. After a while we searched for a new place to camp. Staying in the shack for too much longer would be dangerous; the Authorities made a habit of occasionally revisiting their crime scenes. Neither of us could afford to be found. Nothing happened for weeks, so I got daring. Something about Sun made me disregard the lessons I learned from my years of hiding. I started taking her into the villages, then towns, and finally the city. I had a few associates in the city, one of which was a baker. He gave me free pastries for the debt he believed he owed me for defying the Authorities, who killed his wife and took his son. He really owed me nothing. I was fighting for myself and my freedom, no one else''s, but I wasn''t about to turn down free food, especially pastries. The bell on the door rang as we entered his shop. Warm air fogged the windows and the smell of sweets engulfed us. Sun grinned, doubtlessly recognizing the scent from the times I bought her the old man''s goods. The baker was out from the back and behind the counter in a few moments. Flour dusted his balding head and gray hair. Various kinds of dough stuck to the apron that covered his slightly swollen belly. A smile graced his face at the sight of us, bringing some light to his features. "I figured you''d be coming around soon, Rag''jah," he looked curiously at Sun. "Who''s your friend?" "This is Sun, someone I''ve been keeping around." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. "I see," he chuckled, "No wonder you''ve been eating through the supplies I gave you so fast." "I''m sorry I have to ask for more," I explained. "No, no!" He waved off my apology. "Any friend of Rag''jah''s is a friend of mine! Come, I have plenty of danishes in the back for both of you. You shall eat them while I get the other goods I''ve been saving." "That¡¯s very generous of you," I thanked him. I glanced over my shoulder to the girl, who looked around with curiosity, "It''s okay to talk to him, Sun." Her face lit up as she turned to the baker. "So you''re one who bakes good buns and cookies?" Surprise flashed across his features. "You¡¯re from the southern countries. I haven''t met a foreigner outside the compound since the Authorities came to power." "Yes, well, this not very welcoming country," she said lightly. "It''s rather cold for southern tastes." The baker laughed, "Then let''s hope our food makes up for our weather." **************** We returned to the basement of the decrepit house we were currently sheltered in. Sun immediately took to tending to the embers of the fire we had managed to kindle. I idly asked her what she thought of the baker. She paused in her work, considering. Her answer surprised me. "He has very sad eyes." ***************** I was a fool to be so bold, to think I could hide Sun. The officers notice everything, even things commoners don¡¯t. I should¡¯ve known no matter how many times I pulled Sun into dark alleyways, pinned her to shadowed walls and warned her to keep quiet while an officer passed by. There was no way we could escape their notice forever. Sooner or later, they would spot an able bodied man not in their army with a girl a little too tan to be this far north, and eventually, they did. It just had to happen in the bakery. Sun''s favorite place was the bakery. Often she would tug on my sleeve if we were passing by. I was never able to refuse her. The baker was happy to see us and we always left with full bellies. But we weren''t the only ones who enjoyed the old man''s pastries. I was chatting with Sun and the baker while he was packaging some sweets for a customer coming later. My back was to the windows and so I didn¡¯t notice the approaching officers until the door opened. We all startled at the sound of the bell. Sun stopped mid-sentence, knowing her accent could ruin any chance she had of fooling them she was a native. The two men glanced around before walking to us. The metal pins on their uniforms flashed under the lights. I kept my glare to a minimum, not wanting to cause trouble in the city, where backup was always close at hand. Besides, Sun was nervous already. "We''ll be having a couple of those sweet rolls you''re so famous for," one said to the baker, who nodded and accepted the offered coins. Meanwhile, his partner turned his attention to Sun. "You sure look like you''ve seen a fair amount of sun," he purred, leaning over to look her in the eyes. I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He was terrifying the girl, who nodded mutely. "We have been outside a lot lately," I offered as an explanation. "Really?" he said, "Because you don''t look as tan as her. Besides, when was the last time you saw the sun out, Markris?" he asked his fellow. "I don''t know," he leaned back in mock thought. "I''d have to say when we went on that train to the southern countries. Say, girl, haven''t I seen you before?" I whipped out my rifle. There was no point in hiding. I could only hope we could get out before their reinforcements came. The one referred to as Markris was already speaking into his radio and the other had drawn his weapon. "Come with us quietly, girl," the armed officer warned, "you don''t want to get in the middle of a firefight." I didn''t look back to see Sun''s reaction. I didn''t have time if I wanted to survive this. I fired without hesitation. I had been in too many shootouts with the Authorities to fall for their tricks any more. He fell, bullet in his heart. The second officer shot his handgun, but missed horribly, obviously caught off guard by my aggressive offense. That gave me time to shoot him down. By then it was too late, reinforcements had come. There were half a dozen of them. I only had five shots in my rifle, two of which had already been used. I took out another officer at the cost of another bullet. The remaining five charged us. I had four in my sights, a number I quickly reduced down to two. My rifle was out of rounds, but I was far from helpless. The first officer to seize me was greeted by the gun''s butt to the face, which knocked him away. The second got the barrel jabbed under his collarbone, effectively injuring that arm. The baker abandoned the counter, appearing behind him and punching him to the ground. A screech sounded through the bakery. The fifth man was attempting to capture Sun from behind. She growled and kicked back, hitting her attacker between the legs. He didn¡¯t release her; the officers had more endurance than that, but his grip did loosen considerably. She spun in his arms and nailed him in the lower ribs with her knee. He fell back, smacking his head on the counter and collapsing to the floor. A gunshot rang from behind me. I spun just in time to see the baker fall forward. Blood seeped from the wound in his back, right in the center of his spine. He choked a couple of times before lying still. Reacting on instinct, I rushed forward and bashed the man responsible in the head with the rifle¡¯s butt. The officer rolled over from the force of the blow, skull caved in. We had to leave before more came. I grabbed Sun''s arm, not caring that I was being rough with her. I dragged her from the bakery and down the cobblestone street. It was dark, which was just as well, the last thing we needed was to be spotted. We kept to the shadows and avoided street lanterns. Even after we left the city, I dagged Sun through the deep snow and refused to slow until we were safely in the basement. Only then did I notice we were both covered in blood. I was splattered from the spray of my victims, some of which had rubbed off on her where we touched. She stared up at me with big, scared eyes. Authorities The more officers I killed, the more the Authorities wanted me. The more they wanted me, the more officers they sent, the more I was forced to kill to protect Sun. So the vicious cycle continued until my skill became too valuable to lose. Yet, for the first time in a long time, I wasn''t cold, and that allowed me to fight with more viciousness than ever. I didn''t allow Sun out unless we were moving camp, she was too obvious. Besides, she was the only one that could keep the fire going. She was my source of warmth. I needed her. Luckily, she needed me more. Yet, one man cannot stand against a nation. Even my warmth couldn¡¯t compare to the raging bonfires of the Authorities. Eventually, I was overwhelmed. I took out at least five of them, perhaps more. But there were nearly twenty, all experienced in combat, unlike most officers I fought before. They captured my body, but it was my cooperation they wished to secure. In a land this cold, there is only one way to truly control a man''s cooperation, and that is to control his source of heat. **************** I write this because I''m scared. I not know this country well, only its language. But, I know the Authorities help no one. They stole me from my home and brought me to this cold place. I escape, then you save me. You protected me ever since, fed and kept me warm. But you haven¡¯t been same since we were attacked at the bakery. You used to be so doting, then wouldn¡¯t let me leave. Now you come dressed as an officer? My prison may be warm and I well-fed, but this a cold and hungry prison nonetheless. Help me understand, why must I stay here? I want leave this place Rag''jah. I want go home where the sun shines and the moon glows and even poorest people are warm. Please. -Sun She wanted to leave. But I wouldn¡¯t have joined the Authorities were it that simple. A man must guard his source of heat with his life, or even, his ideals. I used to be frozen, warmth-less and numb, but she changed that. She was safe now and that was all that really mattered anymore. On the run, I could only give her a spare blanket and some pastries. Now she could have any type of food she wanted at any time. She always had a fire to rest by and a coat to keep her warm. Couldn''t she see her interests were mine? Couldn''t she be grateful for what I sacrificed for her? I guess, in the end, a man will abandon his dearest held morals for a bit of warmth. **************** Rag''jah I don''t trust the guards guard me. They leer at me and make excuses to check on me in middle of night. The other southern women, ones you sent serve me, tell me not to trust them. I am scared alone. -Sun That letter made me angry. It was infuriating to think of other men trying to take advantage of my Sun. I was no fool. I knew what happened to the foreign maids at the hands of the officers, and the price they paid should they say anything, or show anything. It was wrong, but not my concern. Ignoring it was equally wrong, but if I still cared what was right and wrong, I wouldn¡¯t be one of the Authorities'' assassins. My concern was Sun. Sun wasn¡¯t a maid, she was mine, and an officer shouldn¡¯t touch anything belonging assassin. We were their superiors. I would talk with my own superiors. I doubted they would deny me anything. I was their most prized asset. **************** I knocked on the door before entering Sun¡¯s chambers. She sat painting on a canvas laid on the table. Since I discovered her love of art, I made sure she had only the best supplies provided for her at all times. She had such colorful, bright pictures. I deeply enjoyed them. She once told me she often portrayed her homeland, it was almost a way of visiting for her. She was so focused on her task she didn¡¯t notice me enter, so I snuck up behind her to watch her work. I was surprised to see her painting wasn''t composed of the cheery colors she usually favored, but of blues and grays. The scene was that of the Frozen Country''s landscape, snow and ice-covered rugged terrain. Bleak smog hid the sun and cast the world below in shadows. Where I could normally nearly smell the sweet air, I could almost feel the frost biting at my toes. It was uncannily accurate and disturbingly depressing. "Sun," I caught her attention and gestured to the painting, "why such terrible weather?" Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She shrugged. "I tired of trying to be somewhere I¡¯m not. This is where I am, so I should accept it. What you think?" "It¡¯s beautiful," I told her honestly, "but sad." She nodded. "Good, then I do my work well." "Is that how you see our land?" I asked quietly. "Beautiful and miserable?" She didn''t give an answer, but I didn''t need one. The way she stared at her painting told me all I needed to know. "I brought you something." I presented the yellow flowers I had behind my back. "They''re from the southern countries. Maybe you recognize them?" She gave me a slight smile at the gift and accepted them in her arms, holding them almost like a small child. Her face fell. "You have blood on glove." I glanced down. She was right. I sighed and pulled a cloth from my uniform, wiping the leather clean. "I''m sorry, I thought I got it all off." Her face was blank, an emotionless mask. "I don''t think you will ever clean it all." I nodded in agreement. "You''re probably right. See?" I held up the offending glove. "It''s already stained." "Wearing gloves won''t keep blood off your hands," she commented quietly. "Yes," I lowered my hand and my head. We were silent for a moment, then I looked up, smiling. "Anyhow, did something else for you." "Oh?" She seemed disinterested. "Yes, you''re going to be staying in my suite, so there will be no need for guards at night. It¡¯ll be just like when we stayed in basements, only warmer." She stared up at me in confusion, surprise written over her features. "I won''t push you if you''re not comfortable," I assured her, "I want you to trust me, not obey me out of fear." Her slight, solemn smile was back, "You should know I always go with you. I do anything for you." I grinned. "Yes, I know. You said that before, though I don''t think you meant it as much." "No," she agreed, "I didn''t mean it same way at all." **************** Rag''jah, I never minded run. You should do what you think is right, not mind me. I owe you so much, my life, I could never repay. I go with you wherever you go and be your Sun however you want, as long as you wish. I know what you do, you never really tried to hide. I not say it doesn¡¯t bother me, but it doesn''t matter. I want you to fight for what you want, like you did when you save me. Please remember the baker? Do you recall how sweet his danishes were? I think it was because they for you. You were brave, braver than any soldier, and that is why he put extra sugar in them. He was trying to thank you for what you were doing. You know I be by your side no matter what you do, I just wish it what you think is right. -Sun She had sent the note on a tray, slipped under my drink, carried by one of the foreign servants. I had it tucked in my sleeve for the opportune moment to read it. That moment came in the space between barrack buildings, leaned against the cold brick alley wall where no one bothered to shovel. Perhaps I should have tried to hide my duties from her, maybe she could¡¯ve been happier in her ignorance. But she probably would have found out sooner or later, anyway. At least she trusted me, I had never lied to her. I only wished she could see I no longer cared who''s side I fought for, as long as it let me take care of her. Fighting the Authorities made that awfully hard, and fighting with them made it awfully easy. Perhaps I should explain my reasons to her. *************** She was crying. She refused to shed a tear while awake, but at night, in her sleep, she wouldn''t stop. "Rag''jah," she moaned. I was tempted to wake her, but knew she wasn''t calling my name for protection. I was the evil she was running from, waking her would only bring her nightmare to life. "Rag''jah! Rag''jah! RAG''JAH!!!" Her cries became more desperate with each word. "You not! You didn''t!" I hung my head. She was recalling the incident earlier that day. Somehow, she picked the lock of the chamber door and slipped past the guards. She came to find me, and had, just in time to witness the tail end of an execution. I was ordered to take part and had been told bullets weren''t to be wasted on foreigners. "No Rag''jah! Why?" she screamed. No matter how loud she was though, no one would dare disturb us, not if they valued their lives. Sun quieted and sobbed the same words she had earlier. "I hate you." I closed my eyes. The words still stung, perhaps more now that I was no longer numb from the cold. Final Letter Rag''jah, I sorry. I regret all I yelled at you, every name I called you, every insult I threw you. I regret hurting you. I could see hurt in your eyes. I was scared, but that no excuse. I know what happened not your fault. It would happen if you not there. You were following orders, not because you like them, but to protect me. I know they have you over their knee because me. Still, you not abandon me. It is because this I could never hate you. I love you Rag''jah. I''m not sure since when, but feels like it has been awhile. I love you deeper than this country''s snow and thicker than its smog. I would stay here forever be with you. But I your weakness. All I can see when I look at you is how I used to manipulate you. I can¡¯t stand the guilt. I know this hurt you more than ever, but hope one day you forgive me. You must believe I do this for you. If I stay, you lose yourself. You already are. Know I am forever grateful, -Your Sun She left the note on the bedside table. The room was already cold without her in it. I glanced out of the window from which she had left. Snow fell from the sky, whirling in the air''s wild currents. There was no chance of her surviving in those conditions. I had to find her before her tracks disappeared. I would drag her back kicking and screaming if needed. I wouldn¡¯t let the cold kill her. I pulled on my coat and boots, then jumped the windowpane into the snow. The chilled air bit at my limbs, but I ignored it. I''d warm up once she was safe. I jogged along the trail she left and prayed I reached her before the storm blew it away. Frost stung my cheeks. My fingers hurt from lack of heat. I could only imagine how cold Sun was. I was used to winter''s wrath, but it must be torture for my fair-weathered Sun. The wind wasn''t screaming over the landscape just yet, but the storm was just beyond the mountains and it wouldn''t stay there forever. Soon, it would pass over and freeze us both, had the snow not already done so. I found her, still standing, still walking, still heading away. Even just seeing her, I felt myself begin to warm. "Sun!" I called, my voice hoarse from the cold, "Sun, where are you going?" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. She glanced behind her, then spun around. In her hands was one of the officer''s pistols, though I couldn''t fathom how she got it. She aimed it at my chest. The bullet clicked into place. I blinked in surprise. "Sun, what are you doing?" "I''m going back to south, back where I come from!" Tears were frozen on her face, their icy trails reflected the filtered light from her cheeks so that her features glittered like a diamond. I shook my head. "You said you''d stay with me," I said. "That was the price you said you would pay. You can''t leave me alone." "Then come with me!" she yelled back. "We run back to the southern countries and not have worry about being cold again!" "We can''t," I said. "The Authorities are there too. They''ll just bring us back. They¡¯ll always find us. I realize that now. Besides, we''ll never make it. A blizzard is coming, Sun. We need to get back to the barracks. You''re already freezing." Her eyes still held that determined fire I had first seen in them, but it was dulled by something else. Her eyes were sad. "No," she said simply. "I''m not cold anymore. I actually quite warm." That''s when the gunshot sounded. At first, I thought it was her that fired, but that was impossible. Blood spurted from her throat, not mine. She fell forward into the snow, staining its pure surface red. The revolver sank into the icy flakes. She was choking, writhing, and generally making things worse. I rushed to her and collapsed beside her fallen form, taking her into my arms. It was too late. She lay still, eyes unfocused and glazed. The bullet had entered through the back of her neck. It came through her windpipe, so must have just missed me. I searched for the one who murdered her and soon found those responsible. A small squadron of officers was standing behind where she had stood. I recognized most of the men. They were from the same barracks I was stationed in. "Sir," the one at the forefront said, lowering the rifle that shot her, "why didn¡¯t you defend yourself?" I glared at them. They killed my Sun, the only source of warmth I had left in this world. "She was scared, but my Sun would have never shot me." On the run, back when I fought the Authorities, my rifle had five shots. The one they provided had thirty rounds to a clip. I only needed twenty-five. **************** Now I head for the southern countries, where the flowers Sun was so fond of painting grow. There, I will kill every officer I find until I can find no more. Only then will I return and do the same here. I will continue until I am killed or die in the cold. I hear the clouds often clear in the south and light shines from the sky. But it will bring me no warmth. That is their sun, mine was killed in this forsaken country. I will never be warm again. I will forever be frozen numb.