Red Blossom

Raeg'ald was knee-deep in the snow, moving with difficulty one foot after another, looking for large depressions: sign of a rift. The shaman had told him that she needed a red blossom to cure his newborn daughter. “You must seek a rift where it grows shielded from the wind. Be fast, she does not have much time”, she had added. He had left the village during night, just taking his cloak and some rope. Now, the sun was well passed noon, and he has still not found a blossom. Even with his heavy fur cloak the mountain harsh wind was freezing him deep to the bones. I have to keep fighting. I need to find it, he told himself, I must find it.

He heard a thunderous roar. He turned and saw an avalanche rushing toward him. With no time to seek shelter or to outrun it, he looked for something solid to hold on. He looked around him and saw the head of a rock. He ran as fast as the snow allowed him and succeeded to take a hold of it. The avalanche struck him like a raging boar and the rock broke in two. The flow took him. He tried to keep his head up but ice blocks and rocks were constantly ramming into him. A huge rock hit his head and knocked him down.

He awoke and his whole body felt broken. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was hanging in a huge rift. I can't see the bottom of this crack. He saw his rope above. Damn it, it’s too far, I can't take it back. He looked up and saw that a sharp rock had skewered his cloak. Turning his gaze to the opposite side, a good six feet away, he saw a red dot a bit to the left. He heard his cloak being teared down and felt himself falling several inches. He put his feet on the wall and pushed all he could. He felt a deep pain in his left knee. Getting momentum, he heard his cloak give way and the tension in his back disappeared. He started to fall quickly. He grasped a fissure in the opposite wall with his right hand, stopping his fall. He could see it clearly now, a red blossom just three feet to the left. He gripped the fissure with his other hand and stabilized himself. He heaved himself up using his feet to support his weight. The pain in his knee deepened. In a cry, he grasped the blossom. I have it, I must come back quickly, I don’t know how long I have passed out.

He slowly and painfully climbed the dozen of feet from the surface. The snow had totally stopped to fall. The avalanche has brought him only a couple of hours from the village and from his daughter. He ran through the snow, like a boar plowing with his tusks. He left behind a trail of red blood from his wounds. He arrived in the village at dusk and ran towards the shaman’s lodge. “She’s with your wife, Raeg'ald !” Not bothering to see who told him, he turned left and after passing two other houses he entered his own.

Everyone looked at him. “Do you have it ?”, the shaman asked. As an answer, he gave her the blossom. She took it in her leathery hands, and squeezed them while murmuring some incantations. His wife was holding their pale daughter. Too pale. The shaman forced the red mixture into her tiny mouth. They waited, hearing no sound but the creaking fire and the pounding of his heart. He heard a cough. The best sound has has ever heard. Life was blooming into their daughter and she began to cry. Colors have gained her cheeks. She looked alive and beautiful, like a red blossom.

— Aretis 2020/05/09 12:03