Written by Mserrur

Winner of the Spring Equinox | Ostara Contest

Nunni picked up her spoon and allowed a thick glob of snotty gruel to drip back down into the bowl. "I'm tired of eating this tasteless mush."

Her uncle looked upon her disapprovingly from across the breakfast table. "You should be so lucky to eat anything at all. If not for my position as chancellor of this city, you'd be starving out there with the rest of them."

"Are they really starving?" Nunni asked.

Her uncle let out a blech. "They may if the warmth doesn't return soon. Winter has spring in its clutches."

"So why don't you free her?"

The chancellor snorted. "Free who? The spring?"

"Yeah, like grandma said she did all the years back."

"HA!" he shouted, tipping back his giant tankard and allowing a few drops of ale to dribble down his chin. "Conniving spirits possessed your grandmother's soul. The old woman was a prisoner of her own madness."

Nunni pushed away from the table, causing her uncle to spill even more of his drink.

"You're wrong," she said, pointing at him with a trembling finger. "Grandma said our family was blessed with a gift."

"Don't you stick that grubby little hand at me you brat! I'll take it from you and feed it to the crows!"

Nunni dashed out of the dining hall and up the winding spiral staircase. She reached her room at the top of the tower and slammed the door. She flopped down onto her mattress and let her breathing return to normal. The air felt stagnant and chilly. Nunni sighed. Through the sliver of a window, she observed another dark and gloomy morning.

After a moment of thought, she reached beneath her bed and pulled out a small, wooden box. It had been a gift from her grandmother. The box was smooth and aged, with all the imperfections in the wood preserved. Carved delicately into the lid was the outline of a lily.

A gold clasp held it shut.

Nunni didn't know what was inside. The box had been given to her years ago by her grandmother, who had warned her not to open it before her thirteenth birthday, a date now only a few months away. She missed her grandmother and their fireside chats.

"The spirit of Life and the spirit of Death are in an eternal courtship," her grandma would say as the two of them sat before the great stone hearth. "And it is our responsibility to keep the two dancing without having one step on the other's toes."

"But how?" Nunni asked, looking up at her grandma's worn and weathered face.

"By restoring harmony," she'd answer plainly. "If winter won't let go of spring, you must pry her from his clutches."

Nunni looked puzzled. "Where is winter holding her captive?"

Her grandmother grinned warmly. "In the forest, of course."

Nunni didn't want to betray her grandmother's wishes, but, with the city at the brink of starvation, she felt she had no choice. Hands trembling, Nunni carefully undid the fragile clasp and lifted the simple wooden lid. She peered inside. In one corner of the box sat a tightly-rolled scroll sealed with a crimson stamp of wax. She gingerly peeled back the glob of wax and unrolled the brittle paper.

Her eyes widened.

In her hands was a map of the untamed forest that lay beyond the city walls. The faded ink was barely legible, but Nunni could still decipher what appeared to be a flower drawn near the center of the map.

Next, she picked out the small velvet satchel. With her tiny fingers she quickly undid the knot and loosened the string of gold tassel. Pouring the contents into the palm of her hand, Nunni didn't understand what it was she was looking at. About a dozen little pellets sat in the well of her hand. Seeds, she figured. Embossed on the front of the pouch in delicate gold lining was another image of a lily—the same symbol on the map.

Nunni made up her mind. She threw on her wooly tunic, and shoved the map and velvet satchel into her pockets. She laced up her warmest pair of boots and quietly left her room behind. She crept down the stone staircase, careful not to make too much noise. Her uncle will be looking to reprimand her any minute now.

She managed to exit the castle unseen. Nunni scampered through the city's crowded market place, side-stepping street performers, merchants, pedestrians, and buggies. She ran until her lungs burned, and didn't stop until she'd reached the gate to the Great City. She slipped through an opening and sprinted beyond the city boundaries until she reached the outskirts of the forest.

A chill crept up her neck. She could already feel winter's rancor.

She stared into the unwelcoming thicket. Turning her head, she took one final glance back and crossed the threshold that separated the edge of the city from the untamed wild. Immediately she felt the thick, gnarled branches converge around her. After walking for only a few minutes, Nunni felt utterly lost.

The midday morning light slowly disappeared, replaced by a bitter afternoon freeze. She'd been walking aimlessly for hours. She consulted the map. Up ahead should be a stream bisecting the forest into two sections. Nunni shoved her hands under her armpits and hugged her arms close to her sides. She'd been walking for hours. In the distance she heard the distinct trickle of moving water. A few moments later she stood at the bank of the stream. It didn't look too deep to cross. She took off her boots, rolled up her pants, and waded in, wincing as the frigid water licked at her feet.

After only a couple steps she felt something latch onto her toe. She tried to shake it off, but it wouldn't release its hold. Another nibble. Then another. Nunni stared down in horror as the quiet, murky stream suddenly came alive with hundreds of tubular fish. She reached beneath the surface and tried to yank it away. A circular bite mark and a trickle of blood remained. She shrieked and sprinted across the stream, the little sea demons nipping at her heels.

Diving on to the bank, Nunni sat huddled, cold, but relieved. She slipped her boots back on and once again consulted the map. She figured she must be close to the center, but there were no other discernible landmarks.

So she continued plodding forward.

With a blanket of frost covering the ground, Nunni sensed a struggle for survival. Here the sunlight proved too weak to pierce through the thick canopy of gnarled branches above. A rustling caught her attention. She whipped her head in the direction of the noise. Nothing. She heard it again; this time behind her. She turned around. A branch wobbled. Her arms prickled with nerves. She kept moving, faster now.

A high-pitched shriek echoed through the thicket. Nunni sprinted forward, pushing past branches and ignoring the thorns shredding her pants and tunic. The noise followed behind her as she trampled over piles of decay. A flapping sound rang through her ears. It was close. A second later, she felt a slash across her cheek. She howled in pain, before noticing the monstrous crow hovering before her.

"You do not belong here," screamed the crow.

Nunni wiped the blood from her face. "And what are you going to do to stop me?"

The bird threw its head back and cackled. Without contemplation, Nunni grabbed a thick tree limb from the ground. She swung it with surprising force and sent the crow crumbling to the forest floor. Nunni stood over the bird and unfolded her map and pointed to it.

"Where is the center of the woods?" she asked with a renewed sense of courage.

The bird sputtered but after a moment managed to squawk an answer. "Only a short distance away, little girl."

A few yards before her, Nunni saw a small stone pedestal. She walked towards it. The base was coated in a thick layer of frost. She wiped the ice and once again faced the familiar image of the lily. She pulled the pouch from her jacket pocket and emptied the seeds into her hand. She kneeled down in front of the pedestal and dug her fingers into the tough soil. Into the tiny hole she dropped in the seeds and added a layer of dirt.

She stepped back and turned around. The crow had disappeared, and in its place stood a proud slender shoot of green. The first sign of a severed spring.