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A blizzard swept relentlessly across a vast, snow-covered plain.
Sirka was wandering in a dream. In this dream, she walked upon a sea with only a thin layer of ice covering its surface.
She was barefoot, and she paused, gazing down at the cold, brittle ice below. It was then she noticed something: Each time her small feet made contact with the ice, tiny cracks formed beneath her. The ice was far too thin, and it was as fragile as an eggshell. She felt as though one wrong step might shatter the surface. Below it, a pitch-black sea, so deep she couldn’t see the bottom, churned in silence.
Gusts of frigid wind swept in from every direction, nearly knocking Sirka off balance, but she quickly regained her footing and pressed forward, unfazed. She was cautious, but she remained confident and didn’t stop. A long trail of footprints stretched behind her.
Sirka was suddenly reminded of her past, of a time when she’d been very young. In fact, she reflected on her entire life, from her birth to this very moment.
Such cold was familiar to her. It was both the...
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