> Heart of Winter
>  by Dr.Shisno
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Monday
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

        I ask self sometimes, where did it all go wrong? Though I am not sure I am completely to blame for it. Maybe it is in blood: the turmoil, the strife. That may be vodka talking. I guess it may be true. Three great great grandfathers were killed during the glorious revolution. One great grandfather lost a leg during the siege of Berlin while two were killed: one in Stalingrad, another in Kiev. Grandfather managed to survive when he flew MiGs in Vietnam. My father though, met his end in Chechnya, the second time around. One day, one has male lineage; next they are in a hole two meters down. Such is the life.

Though I cannot say that my poor childhood to all to blame for it. Living in one of the coldest places on Earth really hardens one to accept life and its hardships. Words such as “camaraderie”, “duty”, “honor”, “Motherland” thrown about quite too often to be honest. Yet, most of my life I’ve been given not a single ounce of “camaraderie”, yet I have done my “duty” to protect the “honor” of the “Motherland.” What has she ever given me? Nothing. I have watched good friends perish in the misery that is winter of the Motherland and by the hands of fellow comrades. The government thinks of bullets and bandages while their starving people cry out for bread and water. Heartless bastards, but that is government for you, thinking of Moscow and profits while its people suffer. Government has made some changes, but nothing too significant. Again, such is the life.

I should count self lucky. Multiple times I found self feeling the breath of death on neck, or it may have been a bear occasionally. Though Death and bear are usually interchangeable out in the Siberian wasteland, but that is not point. Living day to day out of a log cabin, a cabin for half the year is covered in snow, to say it’s a hardy lifestyle is laughable. Those not prepared for the harshness of the “General Winter” easily meet their end, very quickly I might add. Gutting a bear and finding human remains is quite humbling and laughable. Idiots don’t last long, thankfully. Such is the life.

Me, what about me, you might ask, what makes me who I am. Being from a lineage of “true” Russians, those who embraced the call of the motherland and defended her, I too wonder how I am still here. When your mother calls you go, but there is difference between defending one’s home and jumping naively into the fire. My great-great grandfather would shoot me for such traitorous words and my great grandfather would add a second bullet, though my father might understand. Nyet, I am not embracing the West, and Da, I never will. I would rather be left to fight a bear with my hands, than say the West is “right”.

To make things simple, my name is Arkady Sakharov, a name passed down from generations. Not really the best of names, but it is my name and who I am. I live alone, my father long dead, my mother followed after, and my sister, Nada, still living along the Volga River.

Though I do not mind, it is me and me alone out here. I have learned it is only me to trust. Me and my M91/30 rifle, a Mosin-Nagant for you Westerners. Kicks like a small child, but hits like a mule. I have my great-grandfather to thank for it. He used it as a crutch after he lost his leg in Berlin, the crazy yuk. It’s been passed down since then and it’s been keeping me alive since I received it. I’m just happy the damn thing hasn’t rusted over yet, but such is soviet ingenuity.

Nyet, I’m not the biggest man you could meet out here in the wasteland I call home. I am of average size, almost two meters and about eighty, maybe ninety, kilos, though with my small beard you’d think I would be older. Truthfully, I am happy to have made it to twenty-eight. Almost as old as my great-great grandfather, older than my great grandfather was, I am. If I am lucky I will outlive grandfather, who died at the ripe age seventy-three.

Da, I did serve. The mandatory service our country now has had me serving for one year. There was no glorious fight, no purpose. Just wasting of space, though that was worst twelve months of life. Subject to punishment by older members, which officers looked away from. I watched many boys who joined with me have bone broken, have faces smashed into the ground. I watched a few even die, some others kill themselves. Nyet, I did not escape the torments of my superiors; I had my fair share of beatings. Bloodied, beaten, but not broken. I barely survived, not against bullets of enemy, but fists of my comrades.

I used to live in small city on the Volga River, with happier people and happier times. Attended what formal schooling I could, even had prospects of attending university, but when father was killed and mother dying a year or two after that. It was never the same. Then I returned from mandatory service, I was not the same. Needed to get away, moved to Siberia. I don’t regret it. Life is simple, very little people contact. Me and the wilderness, and she is not as bad as I once thought. She is kind to me though as I live off land, off of her animals. Making living off of animal furs. Simple living. Such is my life.

Now living in cabin, a small but comfortable place, lucky enough to live by small number of trees that fuel fire that warm the cabin. The small two-room cabin with attic suits my needs. I don’t need anything more too fancy. A bed, fire, and cup of coffee seem to do just fine. Maybe nice steak, seared to perfection. It also helps.

For now it is winter, like it is most of the year. Layers of snow blanket the land for kilometers, with a nice wind that freezes breath to faces. Otherwise it would be green everywhere, just green. Green or white. Not much of variety to scenery, but I live with it.

I guess this is part where I tell you when things started to go wrong for me. A normal Monday, it started as. At least I think it was Monday... things do not click as they used to in head. For what day it was, nothing seemed to click right. I remember waking up and just had feeling of something. Feeling as though something wasn’t right in natural order of things. I shook feeling off and went about my normal routine of day, and it is quite difficult to find the strength to get out of warm bed while the world around is in the negatives. After warming up to surrounding world, breakfast is next. The steak did not taste right, nor did the eggs meet expectations. The coffee tasted good, though it usually has dirt texture, it did not have such texture this time. I should’ve started to worry then, if man’s coffee is off, one should barricade his home and hide until coffee returns to normal.

I shrugged off the feeling again and finished my morning duties, like cleaning the small mess I made for breakfast. Not much of mess, just a cup, plate, knife, and fork. Saving the bones to make stock out of; I have heard that I make good soup, but I have not many people try it. From there I needed to get to town and some supplies. Small things: spices, butter, bread, ammunition, vodka. Things that help me function in winter.

Grabbing my thick parka and putting on my boots, I prepared for my journey into the village. It is not a long walk, a seven, ten kilometers at most, but with snow it is quite the march. Throwing my pack full of furs onto my back, I grab my rifle from the corner and sling it over my shoulder. Then I get my revolver from the cabinet. Not something you would usually see in Siberia, a shiny Colt revolver. The one thing I can say the West did right is their revolver. Now, one might ask how a man like me acquired such a weapon like this. I think the better answer would be to ask the bear and the westerner who it had a disagreement with. It’s a prized possession. For now it finds home in holster.

Opening door, I feel gust of freezing wind through my heavy parka. Taking deep breath, I enter the white world of winter. Something I do every day, but the world seemed brighter, the wind less cold, the snow less thick. Something was off about it. Maybe way snow crunched beneath boots, or frost stuck to beard. If I was smart man, I would’ve turned back around and stayed inside. I could have done without bread for another day or two, but I was not this smart man; I trudged off into the snowstorm of Siberia.

The trek into nearby town wasn’t as tough as could be. It was time alone to be left in thought. Though, not about philosophical ideals, such as “what is beauty”, for I had no time to ponder such stupid notions. I had more practical problems to solve, such as how to survive next few days. In end, my mind was empty, no sounds save for the winds rushing by ears. For the next seven plus kilometers, only thoughts going through head were putting one foot in front of other, breathing in and out, and then blinking. Also, keeping eye on wildlife was subconscious priority. Luckily, that was not to be issue today, the wilderness is being kind to me today. Few kilometers along with snow made trek into maybe hour or two, I lost track of time. Though before I knew it, I was on outskirts of town. Small place, a few houses and a store that doubled as bar. Just enough people living here to call village a town, though not enough to have name.

Upon entering the small store, I was greeted with a friendly face, Nestor Kozlov. He and his family have been running the small store for some time now. He was big burly man with thick gray beard, good Russian stock. He was most alive person in town. I don’t know where he got his motivation, or some of the products he sells (Rumor has it he is black-market dealer, no proof though) but he was happy. He bought furs and then sold them to town. I’ve helped him many times in life. To say least, he owes favors and money, but I have no use for those now, some day maybe.

“Arkady!” Nestor announced to the few patrons of the bar/store. “I thought winter had devoured you and your cabin.” His smile grew as I approached. “Thought I had leave the warmth of store to get my furs.”

    “It is too early to be thinking of my demise, Nestor.” I managed to crack smile as I set pack on bar. “Besides I have yet to see bear today, or anything for that matter.”

“Yet, Arkady. One day you will find such a bear that is stubborn as you are and will not be fond of that antique you carry.”

“When you find such a bear, Nestor, make sure you give him right address and stout bottle of finest vodka. Maybe sharper knife as well to get his tough hide off. It would fetch you quite good price.”

“Da, it would. The bear that almost killed Arkady Sakharov.” Looking at wall where would be bear would hang. “I might even have westerners looking to buy.” He said, which bought a round of jeers from the people sitting around. “Oh shut up and finish your drinks.” Turning his attention back to me, asking “So Arkady, what brings hermit out of his hole?”

“Just in need of usual supplies, Nestor.” I started to pull out furs out of pack, lining them on the bar. “Usual price, I hope.”

“If you were not such good shot and didn’t bring such nice furs, I would say nyet. But seeing as do not like being shot, still same price, Da.” He went to the back room and fetched what I needed. Bread, assorted spices, some vegetables, a bit of sugar. I think he even tossed in a few strips of bacon for good measures. “Now, anything I can get for you, Arkady?”

“Nyet, that will be all, Nestor. Though,” I began to announce to few patrons around, “I think round of the stoutest drink for everyman, on me will suffice.” The men answered with glorious cheer. Nestor smiled as he left to the back room and his smiled seemed to grow when he returned with large bottle.

“Stoutest thing I have,” he began to pour me and the men glasses. “You know it is barely past two in afternoon.”

“When I used to live along Volga, there was a western saying, one I am quite fond of,” I pulled glass up and gave Nestor a salute. “It is five o’clock somewhere, now let us drink.”


* * *


    Stumbling out of the store and into winter wonderland, old soviet song humming in head. It was late afternoon, snow had finally stopped falling, sun not yet shining, but it was beautiful day.  Beautiful day? I stopped walking to catch what a just thought. Beautiful day? Not possible. Not in winter. I shook my head, trying to dispel such strange thoughts. They wouldn’t leave though. Maybe it was the drink flowing through body that was causing such stupid notions? Nyet, that could not be, I did not drink too much. Maybe because it was Monday, Monday is never good for me. Readjusting pack and rifle on shoulders, I started to walk again with such thoughts of beauty plaguing my mind.

Along my walk, such thoughts continued to creep in and I could not continue to ward off such silly notions. Why was Mother Wilderness continuing to act so strange? Today, the land was not as it should be, and my coffee. All was not well today. I could not place these feelings of doubt. Mondays, always Monday. Such a stupid day of week.  Slowly, thoughts left me, and all was left was putting foot in front of other, finally, peace. Eventually, snow drifted down from above, Mother Wilderness reassuring me all is well, at least for moment.

Maybe midway into trek back to cabin, I heard voices coming off of the trail, deep in the forest. Two to three male voices and from sounds of it, at a disagreement and hitting something. Normally, I would pass on by, not my business, but something drew me toward it. Against better judgment, I took rifle off shoulder and moved toward voices.

I found self prone in the snow, overlooking group from a ridge, maybe twenty or thirty meters distance. There was group of men, three men, surrounding woman. Group of men ranged from mid twenties to early thirties. Female was at most late twenties. She was dressed in a white parka and matching bottoms, much nicer than most women here, probably from Moscow or the west, I thought to self. Her dark blue hair seemed to confirm suspicions of latter. From looks of it, she had been hit a few times, now crying, on her knees in the snow. The men were laughing. I recognized voices of men, thugs from nearby town, and I wonder why they were so far out from their hunting grounds. Normally, they would never stray this far out, but it was Monday. This was not my fight, but something drew me towards it. Slowly, their voices began to enter my ears.

“… catch Boris,” the larger of the men spoke, kneeling down to inspect their prey’s face. “Wish you did not do such things to her face, Yuri. That will affect price.”

“I am sorry, Iosif.” Yuri spoke. “She was fighter, had to put her in place. She will make good price, I am sure of that.”

“I take it this true Boris?” Iosif glanced at Boris’ bruised face, laughing a bit, "She fought and it is not Yuri’s hand slipping?”

“There is no need to answer that, Iosif.” Boris’ ego clearly hurt. “You can clearly see your answer.”

“Interesting,” Iosif turned his attention back to their catch. “And what is your name dear? You are quite far from Moscow.” The woman did not answer, turning face away from the man. Iosif responded with backhand, sending woman into the snow. “You will learn to answer me.” He turned to Yuri, “And now we discuss…”

I brought rifle up to shoulder, I could not stand to watch this woman be sold. Strange, I would never do this, stand up for something like this, but here I am. Defending someone who I do not know from people I only recognize. Monday indeed. “Iosif!” I called out; still hidden on the ridge, “Let woman go.”

The look on Iosif’s face was priceless.  Looking around to find source of my voice, but could not find me. He mumbled something to Yuri and Boris who both shrugged and were also surprised. “This is none of your business, Comrade. Leave while you still have chance.”

Leveling rifle at Iosif’s chest, I thought of bluff quickly. “It is when that is my sister. So,” beginning to put tension on the trigger. “Let her go.”

A smile grew on the big man’s face. “Sister?” He pulled pistol out his jacket, aiming it at the woman. “We can make a deal, comrade. Can we not?” He nodded to Boris and Yuri, who also unholstered pistols.

“She is my sister, just hand her over.” I yelled out. I knew I was lying, but it was the first thing to come to mind. But by looks of things, there was to be no happy ending.

He loaded the weapon, pointing weapon back at woman. “That is not how I do business, comr-.” His voice cut off by me releasing the tension on the trigger, sending bullet into his chest, spraying blood on his comrades and the woman.  He fell into the snow and the two men began to shoot wildly, but unable to pinpoint my location. I worked the bolt, taking aim at the second man. He too fell into the snow. The third man began to run, but meet bullet too. The exchange lasted less than minute. 

Waiting a few moments and after collecting my spent shells, I got up, going toward the woman. She was still laying in the snow, covered in blood, much of it not her own, clearly in shock by result of situation. She was in fetal position and still crying, but she would live. I checked the other bodies for useful materials and stored them in pack; both the men called Boris and Yuri were dead.

There was gurgling cough from the man called Iosif, so I went to his side. He was alive, but barely. The round went his left lung, so it was slowly filling with blood. “Should’ve aimed a bit to the right, I am sorry comrade.” I commented more to self than to the man.

    “I will k-kill you,” he managed to gargle out. “If not, I know people who will kill you.”

    Pulling out my revolver, I placed the barrel on his chest, over his heart, “Nyet, comrade, you will not, nor will they,” before finally pulling the trigger. Silence once again filling the forest and without looking away from the body below me, I called out to woman, “You may come out now, it is safe.”

She mumbled quietly, still in quite some shock, so I went to her. She was mumbling something in English. I laughed for some odd reason, only westerner would be stupid enough to travel Siberia alone. I searched through memory for my English skills. “Miss, you are safe. Are you ok?” She slowly nodded, clearly still shook up. “My name is Arkady Sakharov. What is your name?”

“R-Rarity,” the woman managed to whisper out. "M-my name is Rarity."

I laughed again, wiping some blood off her face. Rarity, sounds like western hippie name. “Come with me, Ms. Rarity,” Extending my hand for her to take.

“You w-will not hurt me?” She quickly asked, herself still clearly shaking. Hypothermia starting to set in. She needed to get out of the snow and get warm.

“Nyet, Ms. Rarity, I will not hurt. It will be night soon, I have house nearby, get warm and eat food.” I shook my head; I needed to brush up on English language.

She took my hand and I pulled her to her feet. She was lighter than I thought; she stumbled when she stood up, but braced herself against me. She looked up at me and asked me one thing, “Why are you helping me?”

“It is Monday,” I laughed.
> Fireside Chats
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                Eventually, I had to carry poor woman back to cabin. The cold have taken its toll, along with the stress of previous events. She was not too heavy, but with pack and rifle I had to pause many times. She kept mumbling things during walk, most though in English, so I understood very little. It kept mind from going insane from the silence of surrounding. By time I made it back to cabin, it was nearly nightfall. I sighed at the long day, or at least the stressful recent events.

                I entered cabin and set the women on my bed and started a fire. This “Rarity”, if that were truly her name, needed to get warm for fear of developing hypothermia. She was already pale as is, showing early signs of shock. Pulling her wet parka off of her, it revealed slender but curvy body. She was definitely not from around here. Not giving it a second thought I pulled blankets over her and wished sleep would do her well. Tending to the few cuts on her face, I left after there were nothing more I could do.

                I gave her space, finding a spot on couch in front of fireplace. Somehow, I found one of my few books, in English even, and began to softly read aloud to self. Eventually bottle of vodka and few pieces of meat found their way into my hands. Pausing to stretch and churn fire, the night went by quickly.
 

* * *


 

                 “Arkady,” a voice called out from all around. I looked around, but there were no one, save for the bright white walls that surrounded me. I was alone, but not. I could feel presence of something.

                “Arkady,” the voice called out again. Voice was woman, though not of one I saved yesterday. It was confident, soothing, motherly even. I turned around, still looking for source of voice. This small white room was still bare as bone.

                I finally shook my head, “Hello? I am here. Who am I talking to? It is difficult to talk to someone who I do not know or see.”

                “Then turn around and address the one who has brought you here,” the voice now coming from behind me. It was both speaking my mother tongue and in English. Strange.

                Turning around to face this person, I found, not to much surprise, a woman. She was clad in flowing white dress, accented with gold lining. Her turquoise hair seemed to flow in the non existent wind. Her features were soft and smooth, like a rock smoothed over by river’s flowing water. Maybe early forties, but did not look it. She too was curvy, like woman I saved, and was nearly as tall as I.

                “So,” I laughed. “Woman clad in white, I am speaking to Mother Winter?”

                She returned the laugh, “If that helps you understand this, yes. I am Mother Winter. And you have saved one my children.”

                “The woman I saved?” I thought back to the woman sleeping in my bed. “She is one of yours?”

                Mother Winter nodded with a smile. “I would ask that you take care of her, please. She is much loved where she is from, and many would mourn if she were not to return.”

                “And where is that? The West?” I scoffed. “Mother Winter asking me to save a woman from the West, a woman who wasn’t wise enough to bring anyone else with her.”

                 Mother Winter sighed, “I cannot explain everything at this time, but where she comes from is not important.”

                I grew agitated, “If I am to help get her back, I must know where she must go in order for her to return to family and friends.”

                “All in due time Arkady.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, “You must be patient. I ask that you just keep her safe.”

                “Safe?!” My frustration flowing out, “I have killed three men to keep her safe, I could not place why I chose to save her, but my head is on line. Soon, I will be sought out, and I may be killed!” I had to force self not to grab and pin her against wall, but I got in her face. “Now, I want answer. What is she? Your Snegurochka? Your Snow Maiden?”

                Even after such outburst, she was still smiling. “There are things in this world and other worlds, Arkady, that you don’t or ever will, understand. Sometime we have to have a little faith and pray that our… generosity will carry us through the day.”

                I fought to answer, but placed two fingers on my forehead, then there was great flash of light.

 


* * *


 

                I woke with start. Still in cabin, nothing had changed. I rubbed those thoughts continuously into head. You are not crazy, Arkady. Just shaken up. Only dream, you were not talking to Mother Winter about her Snegurochka, that would be crazy. I had to fight natural instinct to grab nearest bottle of vodka, drink it, and then roll over back to sleep.

                Sun was slowly rising through windows. It was brand new day, but it had strange taste to it. Like mother’s stew that she decided to add new spices to it. At its base, it was the same stew, just was different that one could not usually find unless told. The fire had gone out, so I shivered a bit before getting off the couch. Stirring the coals, I was rewarded with small flame, which I slowly began to feed with more wood. Eventually, my efforts earned me a fire, licking for more wood-which I granted it. Slowly, the room and cabin became warm, welcoming even. I sighed happily at accomplishment.

                With fire started, I went to check on guest. Quietly opening the door, I gazed at the figure in the bed. She was still asleep, her quiet breaths filling up room. Though it was hard to spot her figure in the mound of blankets that covered her. I laughed a bit. She was much like Nada, my sister, but I should not once think my sister would brave the harsh Siberian winter to come visit me. That would be very much unlike her.

                Smiling and half-laughing, I closed door as quietly as I opened it. From here I went on to normal routine, but with a bit more added to it. I made double amount of coffee and cooked a bit more meat than usual. I figured in her state, she would want the coffee more than meat. I finished the meat and egg combination, leaving stove warm for her when she woke. Breakfast was worth two cups of coffee, pausing to watch snow slowly drift down outside of window was another cup, I returned to table with fourth cup, and was about to start my fifth when I opened English book and read while cleaning Mosin-Nagant. After yesterday’s turn of events, rifle needed good cleaning along with revolver.

                Bolt and receiver of rifle came out of easily, after such it was easy cleaning. Though rifle did not truly need it, it was relaxing; which is what I truly needed. Killing three men, albeit criminals, for someone I did not even know. Arkady, you dumb fuck. Finding cigarette, I lit it, try to calm self down more. And now hallucinations of “Mother Winter,” Arkady, what did you do to deserve this? Taking another puff, I continued to clean. Taking time on such simple relaxing work, it kept mind from wandering too much. After thirty or so minutes with rifle, I felt satisfied with work, and put rifle together. There was slight joy when working the smooth bolt back into place. Memories of first reassembling rifle without flaw under watchful eye of grandfather crept forward in thoughts, followed with quick salute with coffee cup for great man.

                Setting rifle down, I began work on revolver. It still had stains of Iosif’s blood, a reminder of yesterday’s transgressions. Though, transgressions were easily washed away. Another puff, another sip, and revolver was quickly cleaned. I spun cylinder like cowboy of old west, small smile appeared on my face.

                I set revolver in holster then set it aside. I then went to work cleaning weapons I pulled off of thugs. They were only nine millimeters, Italian pieces of shit. Only good thing Italians were good for was pasta and art. Handguns not exactly highlight of Italian works. After disassembling poor excuses for guns, I found them to be in need of cleaning. I was surprised guns even worked. But guns needed cleaning and I need to clear head. So in end, Italian pieces of shit has some value. Eventually though, they would be sold to Nestor. I had very little need for more weapons.

                I broke monotony between handguns to check on fire. I threw another log or two into fire to feed flames. Watching flames eat at the new food, beautiful. I took a last puff of cigarette, tossing butt into fire. I walked back to table and finished another cup of coffee; I decided to make second pot. I had saved some for woman, whenever she woke. With second pot prepared, I went to work on second pistol.

                Cleaning second pistol went by faster than first, though mind seemed to wander more. More about this “Mother Winter” and of relation to woman I saved. With name like Rarity, I wondered what drugs her hippie parents were on to give her such name. I laughed to self; I wondered what I had taken to hallucinate about Mother Winter.  Laughter grew when I thought that I had saved a bear yesterday, not woman, from thugs, and a dead bear now occupied my bed. I brought new cigarette to lips, lighting it.

                Taking puff, still laughing to self, I thought for second, what if it were all true? Now, this stopped my laughter, what if woman was really named Rarity, and I really talked to “Mother Winter” last night? That world had finally given me my calling. I had to keep self from falling out of chair because I was laughing too hard. Even had to keep cigarette from burning me. Such a silly notion, but there had to be some truth, right?

                I paused for second in thought, reassembling second beretta. Let the Italians make such a simple design need so many little parts. But it worked far better than in which I acquired it in. The action was much smoother, even tolerable. Putting unloaded magazine into handgun, I set aside and began work on the third one.

                Third beretta was much flashier, probably Iosif’s personal weapon. Dual tone, with a personalized engraving on wood handgrip, something like angel of death. The irony made me chuckle. Upon disassembly, I found it in much better condition than others. It was to be an easy clean. Which left mind alone, again, to wander.

                Woman spoke English, maybe from Britain, or for some reason, America. There was little to go on. Her more refined accent suggested more of former than latter, though her outfit suggested upper crust Moscow. Her name suggests American origin. It seemed as though woman was mystery. Like she came fro-

                A door creaking open interrupted thoughts. Sleeping beauty was finally awake, it seemed. I turned attention away from Italian handgun to her entering the main room. Her face had spots of blue, not unlike color of her hair. She was still in clothes of yesterday, minus big white parka. Seemed uneasy on her feet, holding onto door for support.

                “Good Morning,” I spoke in English, walking toward her. Offering warm smile and hand, which she took, I escorted her slowly to table. She sat in chair gingerly, still showing unease. “You sleep well?”

                She nodded, looking nervously over the weapons laying on table. I sensed her discomfort and moved completed weapons away. I awkwardly stood for moment, unsure of what to do.

                “Would you like coffee?” I motioned to pot on stove, slowly brewing coffee. “I admit, it is not best, but it is something, nyet?” I laughed nervously, trying to make light of situation.

                Her smile still showed her unease, “A cup of coffee would be very nice, thank you,” she answered quietly.

                I poured her and self another cup, putting bit of sugar and milk in her cup. I walked back and put her coffee in front of her. She stared at the grog for a bit before even attempting to take drink. When she did drink, look on face showed her dissatisfaction. But she took second sip, probably sign of her thankfulness of my generosity.

                “So,” I began, trying to make small talk. “Ms. Rarity, you are long distance away from Moscow. I wonder why you came alone.”

                She looked at me strange, “I don’t know about this Moscow you speak of, nor am I from there,” she answered quietly. “I also didn’t plan to come here, much less alone.”

                I was confused, anyone with secondary school education knew about Moscow, much less Russia. “Ms. Rarity, your answer makes little sense. How can you not know about Moscow? And how could you not plan to come here?”

                “Rarity will do just fine, Mr. Sakharov,” she paused, clearly hesitant. “Princ- Mother Winter told me it wasn’t important to say.”

                “You talked to Mother Winter as well?” I grew agitated. These two seemed to be plotting against me. “What else has dear Mother decided to have me not know?”

                “You think I enjoy being here?” Her voice grew louder, also a bit angry. “She too has told me very little as well.” She paused, “So far all she has said is that I need to get to Twilight.”

                “Twilight?” I laughed openly, another adjective name for hippie child. “Twilight? Who in bloody hell is Twilight?”

                “She is my friend and the only one who can get me out of this winter wasteland!” Her response was calmer than last, but easy to tell we were now arguing. I was happy to let argument continue.

                “I happen to live in winter wasteland, and it is enjoyable. You have not lived here long enough to like it.” I began to take sip of coffee, “Maybe I introduce you to bear that change your mind.”

                “I would much rather meet this bear than stay here. The bear probably has a better fashion sense than you, you brute.”

                “FASHION!?” I was furious. Here I was, I saved woman, and I wanted answers. Yet, I was being criticized by my attire. “I wear what helps me survive, there is little room for fashion here. Do you think those criminals cared about what you wear? NO! Get idea through thick skull of yours! You are lucky I was there to help!”

                She slumped back in chair, fuming. “And I thank you for that. But, I need to get to Twilight. She can solve all this. She is the smartest po- um person I know.”

                “Okay, I can help.” my anger slowly leaving after last outburst. “Where is this Twilight? I would like to meet this person who can solve this problem.”

                “She is in a big city,” she thought for second. “Some like the equivalent to Manehattan.”

                “Manhattan? You mean New York?” I sighed sadly, putting head in hands. “That is some distance from here. Like on other side of world.” She sighed in despair as well. “But,” I started, kicking self mentally, “I will help. I am man of word. So I will help.”

                Her face shone with pure bliss, “Oh you will!? Oh thank you thank you thank you thank you!” I believe she had to contain herself from jumping over table and smothering me.

                “Right now, you are no condition to travel.” I spoke, trying to even believe what I was said. “We must wait till you are well. Also, you speak nothing like local, so you must learn. One more thing, you look nothing like local,” I chuckled knowing next thing to say, “So I have to get clothes to make you look more brutish.”

                She rolled eyes, clearly annoyed at the idea, “Fine, I will not enjoy that, though I will go along with it. What is the plan after that, then?”

                I thought for second, realizing I had thought of it from beginning. “You are my sister visiting to check on insane brother. Da?”

                “I remember you mentioning a sister,” she thought of idea for moment. “Yes that will suffice.” Another pause, “What was your sister’s name?”

                “Nada,” I smiled at remembering sibling. “She was smart to stay along Volga. She was the smart one, liked to argue.”

                “I am so glad I am such a splitting image of your sister. I guess this plan will work for now. But after that, the clothes, and the language, how are we getting to New York?”

                “I have favors I need to redeem, maybe enough to get us to Alaska; even Canada if lucky. This is truly long shot.” I took another sip of coffee, “We also have to be wary of other criminals. Ones that captured you will not be first, you must learn to shoot.”

                She looked nervously at still disassembled handgun in front of me, “You mean you that thing? You mean I may have to k-kill someone?”

                “If such events occur that our lives are on line, da. I expect you to do necessary things in order to survive. Criminals will not show mercy, and will kill you.”

                She looked worried, “K-kill me? That can’t happen to me. Y-you won’t let them do that, will you?”

                I chuckled, “Miss, there have been many things that have tried to kill me. None have succeeded. I will do everything in power to keep you safe. Events may cause for events for you to protect yourself. It is for best.”

                “What about pri- Mother Winter? I think she will help us get to Twilight. She will help us and protect us.

                I started to stand, taking final sip of coffee, “The deities above can watch, we here on Earth must act. I have not lived this long to have person above tell me what I should do now. Now,” offering hand, “we have much to do, but you need rest.”

                Hesitantly, she took hand and I led her to bedroom. I helped her get into bed, “I will be back with books, so you can understand few things about Russia,” I smiled, “and I will make you some soup, I hope it is better than coffee.”

                She laughed, but it was strained, she was obviously still injured. “That would be lovely, thank you.” I turned and started toward kitchen, “You… you are very generous.”

                I stopped, thinking for moment, “Sometimes small things we do now may or may not redeem ourselves later. It does not mean we do not do them.” Another pause adding smile, “I will be back with your soup.”


> Acting Lessons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	“NYET! YOU DOING IT WRONG! I have had little Polish boys sound better than that. You make Ukrainians not sounds like uncivil pigs!”

“Well, I never! You’ve barely even given me a day to learn all these words! How do you expect me to get it all right!? Maybe if I didn’t have such an incompetent teacher!”

“I have taught all that I can. You are just not understanding it!” I buried head into hands; we had been at Russian for some time now. I had given her few books in Russian, in hope that she was natural at languages, able to speak and understand everything in it. She did that and more, I was just not willing to admit such. I would not let this woman beat me at own language.

“Ugh,” I sighed, trying to keep up my illusion of disgust. “Do favor and start from beginning. Let’s see if you mess up more.” I wave for her to start, still keeping head in hand.

She sits up straight, still bit flustered, but determined, shaking hair out of face. “My name is Nada Sakharov. I am from the city of Tver, and currently attending the State University there for teaching,” She took a deep breath before continuing in Russian. “I am currently on leave from the university to surprise my brother,” she snickered before continuing on, “I’m here to make sure that he is in fact still alive and no-.”

“NYET NYET NYET!” I interrupted her, “Your accent offends me. I cannot stand it! You cannot be from Tver with an accent from here. It does not make any sense!”

“And you expect me to know what an accent from Tver sounds like? I’ve been cooped up in this cabin for three days now! With only you to base my accent off of! So please, tell me how I’m supposed to have an accent from the Tver area!”

Her logic was sound; I started to rub temples trying to fight against headache. It had been long three days. First one was not bad; she was in bed resting, gathering strength. I spent first day reading and tending to woman’s need - which was not much, at least the first day. I should be thankful that she slept most of the time.

Second day though, she was awake and very demanding. The term could be whining. I could not stand that. Nothing I did was right. The soup too hot, the coffee too black. She did not touch steak I cooked and it was quite good steak. Apparently woman was vegetarian. A vegetarian in Siberia, breed was sure to die quickly. I still feed her soup from animal stock, though she does not know it yet.

Third day did not fare better.  I had to keep self from putting poor woman into floor. Now she was walking around cabin seeing that her demands were met. So I gave her thick book and told her to read. She told me she was not Twilight and refused to read. I told her she needs her Russian improved and gave her another book. There was never enough vodka in house for my needs.

And now today, She was mad that breakfast did not include eggs. I had to remind Anastasia, she had eaten last of eggs day before. The argument had yet to end. She complained about cold. She complained this. She complained about that. Only thing keeping self from reaching for colt and getting rid of complaining was because Mother Winter said to keep woman safe, and bullets for revolver are expensive.

Nyet, there was something else that kept revolver in place. Was it because I did not feel like cleaning big mess? Nyet, there was something else. Maybe it was vodka coffee talking. Her stubbornness brought smile to face: it was very Russian. Maybe way her blue hair flowed over face, it look… nice. Da, that was definitely vodka talking. I shook thought away.

“Again,” I mutter. “Try again. Try to sound like pompous ass. You are from Tver, it is by Moscow, and those people are full of selves. Or try to mimic your English accent, that would be more or less same.”

She let loose heated “humph” before trying again, mimicking her natural English accent. “My name is Nada Sakharov. I am from the city of Tver, and currently attending the State University there for teaching. I am currently on leave from the university to surprise my brother and make sure the fool is still alive.” She stopped with smile on face, thinking she has beaten me.
I let her have small victory, “It is not five stars, but it will do for now. You still need to work on it. Now,” I grabbed glass and bottle of vodka, “to more Russian things.” I poured small amount into glass and sent in front of her. “Drink.”

Woman took glass cautiously and sniffed slightly, “Is this what you‘ve been drinking in your coffee? It smells absolutely wretched.”

“There are more reasons I put vodka in coffee other than we have no milk, but that” I laughed. “This liquid flows strong in every Russian. It is more prevalent in body more so than blood. Now drink.”

She took glass again, sloshed contents of it. Look of disgust plagued her face. She was grimacing as she brought cup to lips. I was already laughing as she spat out what little she managed to put in mouth.

“How can anyone drink that dreadful substance?!?” She placed cup as far away from her as possible. “That was the most vile liquid I have ever had the displeasure of placing in my mouth! Except for Sweetie Belle’s cooking.” I guess look on my face already asked next question. “She’s my sister,” woman relished in memories. “Sweetie can be a bit of a handful, but she’s my sister, and I love her no matter what.” I could see weight fall on her shoulders as she sighed. “I would just like to go back to her, make sure she’s alright.”

I gave reassuring smile, dismissing sister’s weird name (I have since given up on trying to give reason her name and her friend’s adjective names), “If your friends are as good as you they are, you have little to fear. She is in good hands.”

Woman smiled lightly, “I’m not concerned about my friends, it’s her friends I’m worried about. They seem to get in so much trouble and so often.”

“Even so, she should be just fine.” I took her glass and drank in one swig. “At end of day, all friends are family, but I think you already know that.”

“Yes” her mood dropping, “Yes, you are right.” She sighed, pausing conversation for moment. “ I don’t suppose you have any more of that soup left?”

“I have some left, I think.” I got up from table to check food supplies. Supplies were lower than usual, but I manage to find a bit of soup left. It is not enough to last. “I think we have to go see Nestor some time soon. We have little food left.”

“I apologize,” woman started. “I never meant to impose and eat what little food you already have. If there is any way I can he-.”

“Do not be sorry,” I say, preparing soup for her. “I was never expecting to cook food for another person. We will have to just get more food.” I chuckle at next thought. “We will have to get you new clothes.”

“Clothes?” Woman shot back at me, “What is wrong with the clothes I have with me now?”

“Besides fact you nearly smell like me?” Again, another chuckle, “It might be of use to blend in a bit more. We may need to do something about hair also.”

“You or anyone else are not touching my mane!” she stood up from chair, clearly agitated. “Is that understood?”

I paused for second, going over thought she had said mane, but just let it go. “Excuse me for trying to save your life here. Blue hair is easy spot out in white winter. Those men I killed on other day will not be last. There will be more! So if you do not think they will not spot your purple hair, by all means, keep hair purple.”

She sat down with “Humph” again, “Fine, I will not like it, but I will comply. What would be best for color?”

“If you wash purple dye o-“

“Wash the dye out?” She looked at me strange, but then had small laugh. “This is my natural hair color, no dye involved.”

I stopped and tried to even wrap self around concept, it was not working. “You are kidding me, right?”

“Not at all,” she twirled hair between fingers. “It’s all 100% percent real, been like this since the day I was born.”

“Ok, I don’t believe it, but will accept such till proven otherwise. But you will still need to change color, black would be best.”

She looked at me with thoughtful look, “Black? That would work. Black isn’t popular right now, but when it fades away the highlights would look kinda of cute.”

I rubbed face at what was said, “It is not fashion show. It is about survival, why can you not understand that?”

She didn’t answer, just sat there. We were in silence for sometime while I prepared her soup. I sighed in happiness, for I have finally silenced the princess. There was little to prepare for soup, for we had little food items to make soup better, for she had eaten my supplies quickly. There was little in mixture but chunks of spices. I could only hope that it would satisfy princess’s needs. She was still silent when I placed bowl of soup, only breathing seemed to make conversation. It was nice, like normal time in cabin. Like I had no guests. Simple things, such is life.

She finished soup, pushing bowl away. She was not finished with soup, but she was done eating. I picked up bowl and moved it to be washed. “You have ten minutes. Ten minutes then we leave.”

She gave small affirmative, somewhere between nod and shrug, then left table to her room. So I was left alone in main room, again, like normal life. I sighed again, thinking to self: Mother Winter grant me the patience to not hurt this woman. This Rarity. I wonder how one even dealt with such whining. Mercy be upon them. After small prayer and thankfulness, I relished in silence that now surrounded. After minute or so of sitting, I gathered pack and rifle. I took second pack for woman. Smaller pack, so I could hear fewer complaints.

I did not notice when she walked in. After putting stripper clip into rifle, I looked up and noticed her standing there. She had found old parka, old military one, one I had when I was smaller. I never understood why I had kept it, seeing as it did not fit me now. She fit quite well into it. Seemed to accent more curvy parts of body, and coat’s faded green color didn’t quite compliment blue hair and eyes. Hair was even in short bun that was tied behind head. I do not know where she found heavy pants she wore, but like parka, it seemed to flow with her body. I was lost for words at moment, but thankfully she spoke first.

“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing some of your clothes,” she spoke gently. “Though, I had to make a few modifications for it to fit me properly. I just thought it would help me blend in a bit.”

“Glad to see you are finally thinking for self.” I chuckled, accenting sentence with working bolt on rifle. “Come along then, grab pack. We have walking to do. Thankfully, weather has cleared up so it won’t be bad walk.”

“How far away is this Nestor character?” She asked, fitting pack on back. “He’s not far away is he?”

I could only stop self from laughing so much, so there was only a smile on face, “You would not make good Russian, you ask too many questions.”
 

 


* * *


 

It was small blessing when we arrived at Nestor’s store. Every fifty meters on seven-kilometer trip, it felt like small pecking on back of head. Questions of culture, social norms, of fashion. Such constant berating made self sick. I could partly blame self for such nauseated feelings for lack of contact with outside world for many years. Women much less, so with constant yipping and yapping like small dog, I had to keep self from punting source of annoyance. I will admit, I was not best source of information and I admit yelling few times was not called for, but I have lived in constant headache. Walk to village was source of calm and putting mind at ease, and it would seem I would never get such peace.

“Arkady!” Nestor greeted me at my entrance. “I did not expect you back so soo- Oh,” he caught glance of woman behind me. “Oh ho ho, Arkday, you seem to be moving up in world. You has woman now. Where did you pick up such beauty?”

“Do not get too excited, Nestor,” I laugh a bit. “She is only sister. Surprise visit. I was not expecting guests, so I will be in need of supplies.”

“And you do not introduce me to flesh and blood, Arkady? Such rude housekeeper.” He extends hand across bar for her to take, which she does with hesitation, “Nestor Kozlov, I run humble business here,” gesturing to empty seats of shops, we were only people in shop. “If you are blood of Arkady, you are more welcome in store.”

“Nada,” Rarity answered in her russian. “I live by Tver, I was just making sure my brother hadn’t killed himself. It is also break from my studies at State University at Tver.”

“Ah,” Nestor seemed bit skeptical, but he appeared brush off such thoughts. “I am glad to have you in area, I hope you will enjoy self.” He turned to me with questions, “So what will it be then, Arkady? The usual items?”

“That and I will need more vegetables, Nada appears to acquired western ways and adopted rabbit food as main course.” This brought deep chuckle from Nestor, but I continued. “I do not kid, Nestor. Also she would like to try out some sort of hair product, but I forget. Nada, what were you seeking again?”

There was pause as both Nestor and I turned to Nada who was lost her own world looking around shop. “Oh, I was looking for some black hair dye. Something to rid myself of this dreaded purple hair.”

Nestor’s eyes floated from woman to me then back to woman, “I see what I can do,” he floated off to back room. He returned moments later with small bottle, “This is all I have,” he glanced at woman who was admiring containers on shelf on far wall. “Arkady,” He started in hushed voice, “if I had not known better, I would say your mother was seeing other man.”

“And you would be smart man not to say anything,” was my reply. “I just need some supplies for time being. One week at most, then I will have to see what happens from there.” I paused for moment, thinking, “Also, more vodka. I appear to be running low.

“Okay,” Nestor sighed again. “Again, I see what I can do.  I will get you supplies.” He took my pack and then called for woman’s pack as well. “I will be back in moment.” Once more he left into back room.

Woman walked up to my side, “What happens now?”

“We get supplies and go back to cabin,” I shrugged. “From there we prepare for anything. Last minute touches to you, then we call in final favors and try to get you back home.”

“That would be for the best, as quickly and painless as we can make this would be excellent. I have no desire to stay here any longer than need be.” She crossed arms and leaned against bar. She was bit agitated, but that was norm. We stood in silence until Nestor returned. He handed us two very stuffed packs.

“I wish you luck, Arkady and to you Ms. Sakharov. Do not let his sour attitude annoy you.” Nestor cracked smile. “It difficult to changes ways of hermit.”

“Thank you, Nestor,” I nearly spat, pulling pack onto shoulders. “I’ll be sure to make double payment next time.”

“Do not fret, comrade.” He waved off offer. “I think seeing that you have bit of humanity left in you was good enough payment.” Another smile on his face appeared, “Also to see such a work of art walk into my store is small gift.”

Woman blushed, but I was taken bit aback. “Listen, Nestor,” I pointed finger at him, “She is sister, I do not want to hear that while I am around.”

Nestor’s hands flew up, like I had gun pointed at him, but he laughed. “It was merely complement. Besides, I have missus. You have little to worry about.”

“I apologize, Nestor. I have forgotten about that.” I shift awkwardly, pulling tightly on sling of rifle. “Until we meet again, Nestor.”

“Indeed we will, Arkady. And Ms. Sakharov,” woman turned Nestor after pulling pack onto back. “Try not to stay stranger. Also, good luck in studies at university.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kozlov,” She smiled brightly, a smile white as snow. It was quite opposite of rugged life around her. I had to keep self from being entranced by glow. “Until we meet again.”
 
 

* * *


 

The two of us trudged along path back to cabin. Little was said between us unlike on way to Nestor’s shop. I guess woman was thinking more on walking and weight on back to not think about talking. It was welcome in my eyes. I had time to think and reflect. So much happening so fast, it was difficult to keep things together. I have to bring woman to West, but how was still to be decided. Long way was to go over Russian plains, and somehow get flight to Manhattan, One flight risk Russian and one woman with no passport. I doubt flight option would be best one. Next and most likely option would be float across to Alaska. In secret, would be easier, da. Though, time might be issue. Floating across sea would take time. After such, then traveling across American continent. There was no simple way for this to happen.

I glanced back to woman who was behind me. She was trudging along behind me, struggling a bit, but not complaining. At least for now, I thought. Even just looking back, I could feel yearning to just look for bit longer, but denied mind such luxuries and turned back to front, glancing around. Snow starting to drift down, it was calm, peaceful.

Too peaceful.

“Arkady, I hate to bother,” woman began sitting down on log by path, but my mind drifted to other things. “But could we take a break, please? We’ve been walking for a great amount of time now.”

I was not focused on answering her demands, nyet, something did not feel right. I started pulling rifle off shoulder.

“Arkady, are you even listeni-.”

“Would it hurt to be quiet for once?” I yelled at her, “Something is not right, I am trying to listen for it.”

She stopped too, looking around curiously. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

I just held up hand for her to stop. It slowly dawned on me. Thunderous footsteps echoing through trees. Then I heard the roar. Now I understand why it was so quiet.

“Run,” was all I could manage to say. She started to protest, but I brought voice up in volume, and started to pick her up, “RUN, YOU STUPID YUK!”

By time she started run, I was turning to face threat. Serbian Bear. To this day I have yet to figure out why it chose to attack. I did not see cub on other side of path, nor do I think we trespassed into territory. Also, why it was out in winter when it should be sleeping crossed mind, but at moment I was faced with charging bear, and asking questions was least present on mind
.
Bear was at most fifty meters when I fired first shot. It was rushed first shot, so it was only graze. I worked bolt quickly and bear was at least twenty meters when I fired second shot, hit but bear kept charging. By time I worked bolt for third shot bear was already on top of me. It reared up, roaring loudly. It was good meter above me, with its brown and white fur. I could almost smell rage emanating off of its body, see anger in eyes. Which is when I caught glance of it swinging at me. I almost did not have time to take step back and have its claws rip through parka. Though I wish I saw second swing quicker, I was only able to bring up rifle to brace blow. Rifle took most of hit, but self went flying few meters.

Trying to shake self out of daze, I could only watch as bear sauntered over to finish self off. My limbs would not respond, and so I was left rolling in snow in pain. Not best of situations, it would not be highlight of life. After all that could have killed me, bullets, vodka, fists; I am left to be torn apart by bear. Such is life.

Even bear seemed to be relishing in victory, slowly taking time to stand over me. I looked for rifle, but it was nearly meter away. I reached for holster, but it was empty. In darkest hour, rifle of great grandfather was not there for me and revolver was not where it should be. All was lost, it seemed. Bear roared almost in spite of me. I rolled onto back, as to be kind enough to face bringer of death. Sad, was next thought to roll into mind; I was not able to partake in last drink.

But there was a staccato crack, and bear flinched. It was soon followed by second, third, and fourth. Between fourth and fifth cracks, bear was falling down. By time sixth crack rang out, bear was dead, lying in snow. Behind bear stood woman, smoking revolver in hand. She stood for few moments, upon realizing what she had done, dropped revolver into snow. I would’ve thought she would have cried over dead bear too.

But she rushed over to side, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She was bit frantic, checking for any sort of injury, which at moment were unknown.

“I am okay, there has been worse done to body than scratches and brusies.” I slowly stood up groaning bit in pain, leaning on woman for balance. “Thank you, though.”

“I was simply doing what had to be done, though I wish it could’ve been avoided. But I just saw your gun lying there, and you…” woman’s voice trailed off.

“You have appeared to save my life, and it would seem we are now equal.” I looked over dead bear, then back to woman. “Good shooting, Rarity.” I smiled lightly which she returned, “We may make a good Russian out of you yet.”


> Still Alive
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Self was surprised woman was able to help carry me back. More surprised we made trip back to cabin. With pack, rifle, her pack, and self’s inability to walk straight, it was long after sundown when we walked through door. It was kind of her to set me down gently on couch, even kinder that she got fire started.

“Vodka,” I asked painfully, “I just need my vodka.”

“You just got back and you’re already asking for drink? My goodness, you need to slow it down!”

“Not for drink,” I said, slowly pulling off torn parka, revealing dark stains on shirt. “Sterilize injuries, then drink.”

Upon seeing such injuries, woman rushed to side. “Oh my goodness, you should’ve said something! I should’ve done something much sooner. This is serious.”

“My mother has hit harder than bitch bear, I will recover.” I extend arm out, gesturing for bottle. “Vodka, please.

                Woman thinks for moment, but eventually hands me bottle. Taking cork out with teeth after pulling shirt off, I pour good portion of bottle on slash marks on chest. The alcohol burns wounds and cleans blood, thankfully cuts were not deep to require sewing. Though injuries were deep enough to cause very painful experience.

                “Cabinet,” pointing towards kitchen. “Third from left, that is where medical supplies are.” Woman left side to cabinet and after much searching returned with wraps and bandages. “Now I need you to take bandages and wrap wounds.” I stood up so woman could get better angle.

                Upon standing up, I realized how tall I stood over woman, a good head above.  Even woman paused to observe self’s body and the scars that crisscrossed it. Her hands were cold when she started places bandages on chest, which was to be expected. Starting to wrap bandage, she paused for brief second when she came to back, noticing more scars. Rarity continued to wrap body, she surprised self in way she wrapped. It was elegant if that was possible. I did not have to tell her how to wrap, which was first.

                She paused in front, focusing on finishing wrap, taking time as if it were delicate surgery. When she finished, she placed hand gently on the wrap, “You have quite a few scars.”

                “It is the line of work I chose,” I scoff. “Besides, we all have scars, it is matter if it affects one or not.” Wincing as I move to kitchen, I offer “Coffee, Ms. Rarity?”

                “How can you drink that stuff this late?” She crossed arms, giving me disapproving look. “You also need rest.” Woman rushed to side, pulling arm. “You need your strength for the coming trip, remember?”

                “Fine,” I rolled eyes, not resisting the pull on my arm. “Just put self on couch, that will suffice.”

                “No, no no. It’s your house, you need to sleep in your bed.”

                “I will not have guest in my house sleep on couch.” Now I resisted woman’s tugging. “I will be fine on couch, injuries are not serious.”

                “But that couch isn’t good for your back!” Woman’s pulling grew stronger as we nearly reached bedroom door.

                “My back is fine,” I struggled to pull arm from her grip. “It is your pulling that will hurt me.”

“And one night for each of us will not hurt.” Woman forcefully spoke through teeth, pulling one last time.

“Ms. Rarity,” I spoke firmly, “I will not budge from position. While you are in this house, it is your bed.”

Woman paused with pulling, though keeping hand gripped on self’s arm. It was easy to tell Rarity was thinking of some way to achieve success over myself. “Well, we can share.”

Those words alone stopped brain function in self. I looked at woman, confused at her notion. “I do not think that would be necessary.”

“Well, unless you want to be the one to go out in the cold and cut wood, because we’ve run out.” Woman kept grip, reasoning with me, “Which I remind you, I will not let you do because of your injuries and how cold it will get. You can at least suck it up for one night.”

I gave woman positive “Hmm.” I had not noticed lack of lumber supplies. She had noticed and was actively thinking about such. Good to see she was learning. “So you put last of wood into fire?”

“Yes,” her grip loosened and I pulled arm free, but her voice was firm enough to keep self in place. “I thought I had made mention of that of the other day?”

I questioned self on how I could have missed such large part of routine. Distractions, I mused to self. Seemed to be most logical answer. “Fine. For tonight. Just tonight.” I shook head disapproving. “Tomorrow, I will get wood, and we will make second trip to see Nestor. So, while I am cutting wood you will dye hair, okay?”

Rarity nodded in agreement, “That will work, now can you give me a few minutes to change?

“Da, da, all is fine. Let me get mine as well.” Under watchful eye of Rarity, I grabbed undergarments, then left room, closing door behind me. I rolled eyes at the situation I was in. It was silly to say least. I changed into undergarments, tossing blood stained shirt into fire, watching dying flames eat shirt hungrily. There was warmth, but it would not last. Maybe hour or so of flames, if lucky, fire would last maybe half of night. After such, it would be cold, and it would stay cold untill I could get wood in morning. Realization was made that without wood; there would be no coffee, at least hot coffee.  It would be long morning without coffee.

                Knock on door brought me away from thought. Woman was leaning on open door, her hair splayed over her face. What she wore raised curious question, how she acquired clothes that flowed with her body in my house. Though question left brain as fast as it entered.

                “I hope you don’t mind,” her voice seemed to invite. “I took the liberty of adjusting some of your clothes, seeing as I have none.”

                “I, um,” self’s mouth seemed to jumble words; connection between brain and mouth did not want to work too well. “No, I do not mind. It is fine.”

                “Okay,” awkward pause came, only crackling of fire made noise, until woman said, “So, um... long day tomorrow. We should probably get to bed.”

                “Da,” I nervously chuckled, walking towards bedroom. “Da, that is true.” Pain shot up through side where wounds were when I sat on left side of bed. I took deep breath, trying to ignore pain. Woman sat down on right side, and pulled herself under the multiple layers of covers. I sighed and pulled myself under covers as well, only then did I realize how small bed was. Exhaustion crept into body, ebbing away last of energy. Rolling onto side, back facing woman, I muttered some form of “goodnight”.

                It was few moments of quiet in darkness of room before I heard her reply of goodnight. It was not long after that when body succumbed to tiredness.
 

* * *


 

                I was in the white room again, this time Mother Winter was sitting in front of self at small white wooden table. She was sipping calmly cup of tea, as if waiting for self. “Arkady, I’m happy you could join me,” she gestured to the seat across the from her, “would you care for something to drink?”

                Sitting down, I was unsure, nervous even. “Water is good.” From seemingly thin air, Mother produced glass of water and placed it in front of self. Sipping water, I could feel the cool liquid flowing down throat, which was surprising. Surprise did little to stop formation of main question: “You brought me here, why?”

                She smiled, “I wanted to talk, that’s all.”

                “Talk?” I nearly spat out drink. “You brought me here to talk!?! What bullshit is this?!”

                “I have a very busy schedule,” Mother Winter’s voice became firm, near agitated. “What I do isn’t very easy. This is a break, yet part, of my duties. Which brings me to my question.” Her voice returned to calm and collected, “How are you, Arkady?”

                “You come simply to ask how I am?” I huffed in frustration, “If you have to ask, I am still amongst the living. We had run in with bear recently, I was hurt. Ms. Rarity managed to keep me from becoming meal. We will make preparations for journey west soon.”

                “Resilient, isn’t she? She always seems to overcome,” Mother Winter smiled before taking another sip of tea. “And what is your opinion of her?”

                “She is small handful,” I scoffed. “If there were worse person to be stuck with, I have not found them yet.” I broke pack of smokes out of pocket, putting one in mouth, and lit it. Gesturing to her with the pack if she wanted one, which she declined politely.

                “I’ve heard those are bad for you,” Her motherly voice started. “So, why do you do it?”

                I laughed, letting smoke exit lungs, “There are many things that could kill me in this world. I think cigarettes will be last thing on list.”

                There was pause in conversation, which suited me just fine. Moment of silence to attempt to finish smoke, but it was not to last too long. For Mother Winter started up talk again: “So how do you plan to get to the west?”

                “There is western saying, There are many ways to skin cat’, but first we need to travel to sea, then maybe boat or plane. After such, I do not know. You ask for me to go around the world. This is not easy feat to perform.”

                She nodded in agreement, “I understand, I am not asking for you do that in one day. I was simply asking for a plan, so I can help.”

                Taking long drag of cigarette, I laughed again. “If you could somehow get us to west by some form of magic, that would be wonderful.” My laughter slowly stopped, realizing words that were said. “Magic,” I scoffed at myself. “What am I saying? I could be dead and all this hallucination.”

Mother just took a slow sip of her tea before setting it down, then promptly reaching across the table and slapping me. I was not expecting, for it knocked the cigarette out of mouth, and left searing pain on cheek.


“Now,” she began, returning hand to teacup. “I am fairly sure pain is a good indication of reality. Did that help clear a few things up?”

I brought hand up, feeling cheek, quite surprised. “So this is real, you and this room. Not a dream.”

“Yes and no,” Mother handed me a second cigarette, helping me light it. “You are dreaming right now. At this very second you are asleep, but this all real. Your consciousness is here, with me, and perceives this all as real.”


Now, I was not smart man, as per recent events have told me, but idea of dreaming and not dreaming went over head. So, I took long drag of cigarette trying to process, but it would not come. “Care to explain?”

She laughed, a carefree laugh, before leaning across the table, and placed two fingers on forehead, “All in due time, Arkady.” And the white room went away.


* * *


 

I did not wake with start like last time, but slowly became aware of world, taking many deep breaths. Body was warm, though the feeling of coldness beyond bed was growing. The cold compelling eyes to stay closed and enjoy moment of warmth, fully knowing tasks that lay ahead. The wood gathering, the long march back to Nestor’s, and making plans to west. It was all so much to do. Self brought free hand to face, in attempt to rub the tiredness away. To no luck.

Even in sleepless state, awareness of warm smell grew. Smell of flower, like roses or tulips, which was strange. It was not spring nor were there any sort of flower for kilometers. Finally opening eyes, purple hair obscured some vision, only then did I realize that heavy feeling on chest was not blanket, but woman’s body: at least head, portion of upper body, and one arm. Also heavy feeling on arm was due to being laid on. Now, her breath, though light, was growing.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few minutes now,” was her reply. She rolled off of me, like such position did not happen. I accepted such notion.

“Good,” leaving warm bed to brace the cold of cabin, “It is time to get up. We have much things to do.”

“But the sun isn’t even up!” Woman’s protests began.

“Ah,” self sighed upon hearing such protests, “But it is the best time to get started, more time afterwards to rest. Just stay warm, I will be back with wood for fire.”

I heard some affirmative from woman as I started to change, grimacing in cold. Luckily, there was second parka that did not meet bear that self could wear. Cold cut to bone, and I could feel gaze of Rarity.

“Why do you torture yourself with this?” Woman’s question started. “With all this getting up early and the cold.”

Jumping into parka, trying to warm up, I laughed, “It is to make sure I am still alive, and helps keep me alive.”

I did not wait for answer before I left bedroom, grabbing axe on way out. Dusk and setting moon gave mystic hue to winter wonderland before. There was just enough light to see meter in front of self to help in search of tree. Even in low light, I was able to find tree of right size for our use. So swinging began, mind started to clear. I wished to get away from compromising thoughts of Rarity. There were few women in life and left as quick as they arrived. Isolation in Siberia was small thanksgiving from such periods of… I paused in swinging at thought, trying to recognize emotion of such periods. Periods of false bliss, that left exit wound was hard to repair. I did not need them; they did not need me. I accented thought with heavy swing against tree. Such is life.

 After few swings, searing pain in chest began to remind of past day events. It was difficult to fight through growing pain; I had to pause few times to catch breath.  In pause, thoughts began to appear again, more thoughts of Rarity. Maybe, there was something to woman. No, she angered self multiple times, rubbed self wrong way. She focused too much on unimportant items. Yet, it was refreshing. I gave tree another heavy swing to end thoughts. After much fighting past pain, tree fell down with anticlimactic puff in snow.

Thankfully, I had chosen small tree to cut down, providing just enough wood for fire. It took many tries to cut tree into manageable sizes, but by time sun greeted self, small woodpile started to form. Observing self’s work, pain wrecked body, and I near collapsed onto woodpile, clutching side. Trying to catch breath while sitting on woodpile, thoughts began to drift again. Maybe it was way she angered self, how few people could do such so quickly. I tried to shake thought, but it nagged. She was certainly attractive, that was easy to see. No, I had to get her back home. That was my mission, my purpose now. Anything else could wait. Even self.

Seemingly on cue, crunching of snow appeared behind self. Turning, it was woman, dressed standing few meters behind me. She stood fully dressed in winter garb, arms crossed, as if waiting on some signal from self to approach or giving self moment.

Taking breath, I faced inevitable. “So, Ms. Rarity,” I stood up stretching, feeling pain race up body, but I ignored such pain. “What brings you out here?”

Woman took steps towards self, snow crunching underfoot, “I came to see how you were doing and if you needed help.”

I returned to splitting remaining pieces of wood. “You can help by taking some wood back inside and start fire. We need house warm. Warm means life and we need to live for time being.” Axe fall punctuated sentence, “Understood?”

“Yes, I understand.” She paused few moments, before gathering few pieces of wood passing sympathetic look to self. “When you’re done we’ll change your bandage.

My answer was axe fall, focusing on finishing task. Crunching of snow grew quieter until it was axe falls and self alone. Something self both wished and dreaded, alone. Such notion made axe falls heavier, fueled with bit of anger, the wood split quickly. So I stood there, breathing heavily, with no more wood to cut, with no more purpose. And the anger would not cease.

* * *


 

In between time of cutting wood and arriving at Nestor’s, there was breakfast. A hot breakfast with coffee that did little in ways of soothing soul, but it was quiet breakfast. Little was said; it did not matter. As house warmed, anger subsided, if only in little bit. Putting supplies in packs, I watched woman prep hair for dyeing. Even as I cleaned rifle for tenth time, I noticed awkwardness in hand movements, it was like woman’s first time. All was quiet: save for cracking of fire, self’s cleaning of rifle, and Rarity’s slow movements of dyeing hair. Not more was said when self’s bandages were changed. No words when packs were placed on back. Only breathing and footfalls sounded off during march to Nestor’s store. Though silence was offsetting, I did not dare speak.

Bit after midday is when we arrived. There were few people in store and eyes drifted on us, though eyes mostly staying on woman. Silence followed when we entered. As if on cue from silence, Nestor entered from backroom.

“Two days of gracing my presence,” Nestor said with mock impressed tone. “What is the occasion, Arkady? I do not think it is my birthday, nor May Day.” Though when he saw solemn look on self’s face, he grew more serious. “Arkady, what happened?”

“Ask the bear,” stumbling into bar. “I need to ask a few things. Not here.” I brought voice to whisper, “There are too many ears here, Nestor.”

He looked around suspiciously, eyeing many of his guests. “Follow me then, bring girl.” Nestor gestured, so we followed. He led us to backroom behind bar where most of his stores were. Pulling up chairs and grabbing bottle, he gestured us to sit. After pouring us both glass and handing us it, which woman declined, he began conversation: “Bear you say, Arkady?”

“It was not pleasant experience, Nestor. Bear was too gentle with touch, left nice scratches. Though, we had disagreement.”

“I assume it was you and bear?”

“Nyet,” I raised glass in direction of Rarity, giving slight nod. “I owe one to woman.” Rarity gave humble shrug at mention. “Managed to kill bear with six shots.”

Nestor gave thoughtful hum before taking sip of glass, “So she is not sister?” He must’ve seen shock beyond wall of self’s unemotional face, but he reassured me, “It is okay, Arkady. I already knew such. Usually when siblings look nothing alike, there is problem.”

I rubbed temple, extending out empty glass, which was refilled. “Nestor, I need help.”

He laughed, “That is easy to see, comrade.”

“No, Nestor,” His light-heartedness had done many times to clam, but this time only seemed to agitate. “I have killed three men in process of taking care of woman.”

Laughter stopped, “Oh, Arkady, you let woman walk into life and suddenly everything changes.” A light laugh, he turned to woman, “So what is your name, your real name.”

“Rarity,” her voice seemed distant though sitting next to self. “My name is Rarity.”

Nestor smiled, “Of course it would take a rarity to change this hermit,” he slapped self’s shoulder, joyously laughing. “So what can I help you with, my friend?”

“We are going to need to get out of here,” I pulled out cigarette, offering Nestor one, which he took and lit. “Very far away.”

We both took long drags of cigarettes, “And what makes you think I can help you? I am just humble store owner,” he said, exhaling in cloud of smoke

It was my turn to laugh, “Humble my ass. I know you have connections, Nestor. You make too much to be just humble owner.”

He thought for second, contemplating next words on smoke. “And what if I do have these connections you accuse me of having? What of it?”

“We need to get west.” I gestured to Rarity and self. “As in America, New York. She has friend that will sort things out.” Leaning forward, hoping to emphasize words, “Nestor, I made a promise, and I am not one to break such things.”

“Alright, alright, old friend,” Nestor’s hands mocked defensive posture. “I will help, but help is not for free.”

“I understand,” I nodded, thinking. “Whatever is in my cabin is yours.” There was gentle touch on arm; it was woman giving me sympathetic look. “Besides, I do not think I will return here soon.”

“I think we may have deal, it may not be full trip, but it will be start” Nestor raised his glass, toasting occasion. “It will take time to sort out, but until then, is there anything else I can do?”

“Well, I do have few favors to turn in before I go.”

“Very well then, I would be honored to accept such,” he tossed butt of cigarette into empty bucket. “Just one question, why are you doing this? All of it for her?”

I too tossed cigarette butt away, taking sip of drink, “I have not felt this alive in long time.” A smile was made, along with a sigh. “And I wish to stay alive.”

> Not One Step Back
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                “I hate boats,” self’s voice seemed to echo across rough winter waters. Leaning over rail and letting contents of stomach flow out, I stood back up, wiping mouth. “Nyet, I very much hate boat.”

                A gentle hand patted my back, Rarity providing comfort. How kind of her. It had been long journey, though it had just begun. We had to wait few days for Nestor to contact appropriate people. Acquire “passports,” set up transport to port, and from port to Alaska. I remember looking around cabin one last time, eyeing each portion of rooms, as if taking mental picture. Fire was put out final time, things of importance taken, and door closed and locked. At such moment, I was sure Rarity wanted to say word or two, but only look is what she gave. I knew that it was last time I would see cabin, yet I did not regret, maybe little. Something kept self from holding on too much. I could not place feelings on anything though.

                From leaving cabin to Nestor’s, we were given passports, and the three of us left in helicopter. Nestor’s connections had certainly impressed self. Woman seemed quite at awe of helicopter, as if it were first time seeing such invention. Even as we flew across land, there was not moment when Woman’s eyes were not focused at window and mouth open in wonder of white outside world. Like small child receiving special gift.

                It took many hours to get to another town, where helicopter was refueled and then many more hours to arrive at port. Nestor and few of his men helped us load supplies onto boat. It was decently sized boat, slightly luxurious looking for area, focused more on travel not work. The grey waters crashed against boat and dock and clouds hung over head. Cold, humid air clung to clothes and skin. Like someone slapped thick  wet blanket to face and blanket would not let go of face.

                Now on boat, I realized how easily sea made self sick. After few days, maybe I would not be as sick. Such was not case. Woman had kept up look of wonder for some time. When scenery did not change, she managed to stay content. How she did not get sick, I would like to learn. Life wanted to make self miserable, which only brought smile to face. I could not wait to fight back.

                “You really should stay inside the boat.” Rarity tried to comfort me. “It would be in your better interests.”

                “I have had enough of being prisoner in damned boat,” surprised I am in bodies strained response. How weak I have become. It saddens self.

                Rarity guides me to bed, laying me down. Her gaze sends brain back to younger days. How mother would smile and eyes would comfort. From days father was away in Chechnya for first time. Such times I longed and hated for. Such naivety; a terrible gift. All shattered when father did not return.

                Woman’s cold hand made thoughts retreat, thankfully. Through her now black hair, her eyes shake in bit of disbelief. “If you don’t stay inside, you’re going to become worse,” sarcastic smile appears, “and I would prefer if I did not have to carry you anymore.”

                “You would have to find second bear to assist you then,” my light laugh turns into cough. I fear I nearly had to keep Rarity from jumping to assist, but cough goes away. “How much more longer did Nestor say again?”

                “A few more days, three or four because of the weather.” She found spot in confined cabin and sat. Finding a comfortable position in awkward space, she just watched self. Silence hung in air for some time. “Um, you stay put, I’ll try to get us some food. Something, I don’t know.” She smiled meekly, placing hand on self’s cheek as she passed. “Do try to get some rest.”

                Rolling over, I pulled blankets tightly over body. “Da, mother, I will do as commanded,” was self’s sarcastic reply.

                I could not see Rarity smile, but I could feel it. At least in warmth of words when she spoke: “Sleep well, Arkady.” Door closed slowly after her words. With the sea rocking, sleep slowly beckoned self into its dark embrace.
 

* * *


 

                Whitewash room made self rub eyes at brightness. I was sitting at table. Yet, I was alone. Alone at this table, alone with teapot and two cups, alone and it was quiet. Only my breathing seemed to break silence. This went on for some time, though for how long, I do not know. Time seemed to be at will of this place. I sigh, reaching for teapot, pouring self cup. Drinking it black, self’s body relishing in welcomed silence. I closed eyes and sighed in relief. No rocking of boat or waves crashing. Even Rarity’s sometimes nagging voice could not penetrate this shield of silence. Another deep breath. Silence, what a gift.


                Sound of cup of tea being poured across from self took such gift away. Opening eyes, Mother Winter’s smiling face was revealed. Her focus was on pouring tea and not on me, but smile was still there. Sound of pouring was traded with clinking of spoon stirring sugar. She took sip and hummed in approval. Silence was slowly returned. Unnerving silence, but silence there was.


                She was content with lack of sound, sipping tea slowly, her focus turned to papers she pulled from nowhere. Mother Winter’s gaze methodically scrolled down paper, not wanting to miss single detail. Her hair kept following in non-existent wind, such notion bothered self, only slightly. I shrugged off discomforting thought. In non-dream, dream world, such things can be possible.


                “Enjoying your time, Arkady?” Mother’s light voice drifted through air, taking away gift of silence. Her eyes did not drift up from paper.


                “I was,” self leaned back in chair, closing eyes. “It was quiet. There has been lack of silence recently. I miss such.”


                “And I suppose that the fact that this room isn’t in constant motion would be another high point.” Woman smirked, finally looking up from paper.


                “That would be true statement as well,” I returned woman’s smile. “Boats are not favorite means of transportation.” Self sat forward in chair, “What is that you read?”


                “Oh, this?” Mother seemed bit surprised that I would ask such question. “Just some reports I received recently. I just haven’t had time to read them.”


                I hummed positively, I wished to press my interrogation, but in due time. Eventually there would be answers. ‘Patience’, I could almost hear grandfather whispering to me. A hunter is patient, and waits for the right shot. And the patient hunter only needs one shot. I thought of words, but said none. In due time, I reminded self.


                “You are awfully quiet, Arkady.” I could see cool smile behind papers. Part of self knew that she knew what I knew. “Something on your mind?”


                “Just only wondering why you have not started your own interrogation of self. You usually like to hear how Ms. Rarity and self are doing.”


                “Ah, you are right. Where are my manners,” She set cup of tea down and set papers aside, giving self full attention. Her smile turned playful, “So? How are you and Ms. Rarity?”


                “We have begun journey across sea to west. I am surprised at haste of journey itself. At least as of now.” I stirred bit of sugar into new cup of tea, trying to figure out words to say. “I do not know your fondness of boats, but I hate them. Though, Rarity has managed not to let sea have her food.”


                She hummed positive affirmation. “I don’t quite have that much experience with long distance travel in boats, but I can understand your discomfort.” A sip of tea punctuated sentence. “Being cooped up in a small place for a long time would not be very fun, I presume.”


                “And you would be correct,” I rubbed self’s face, sighing. “Makes self miss home. Even though we have only been traveling for few days, I miss cabin in woods.”


                Woman was hesitant to reply, taking moment to compose answer. “Why did you move out to the wilderness and live alone? If you don’t mind me asking.”


                “It is fair question,” I too paused, trying to think of reason. “There were events that caused me to see life in new way. I did not like such events, so I left, trying to find sense of world. Sold anything that did not matter, cut all ties that were not worth keeping, and I left.”


                “Just like that?”


                “Da, just like that.”


                “You make it sound like you were not missed, what of your family? Did they not miss you?”


                I laughed to self, “What family?” I finished off tea and stood before Mother could answer. “I apologize, but believe it is time I woke up.”


                She smiled, gesturing with sweeping hand that it was accepted. I turned around and walked towards ever-growing darkness, which is when Mother Winter called out, “I do hope you find what you’re looking for, Arkady.”


                I whispered to self, quietly so only self could hear, “I hope as well.” And it was all dark.
 


* * *


 

                Rocking that brought me unto sleep brought me out of it. I had to fight stomach from releasing contents. Sitting up slowly, I sighed, but I realized I was not alone in cabin. To left at small table was Rarity. She had full focus on article of clothing she was mending. Slowly threading needle in and out, it was surprising how even in small task she held essence of finesse.

                “It’s nice to see you awake, Arkady.” Rarity’s voice echoed in small cabin. “I was beginning to fear something might have happened.”

                “You? Worry about me?” I laughed at such notion. “Something change while I was asleep?”

                “No,” Woman kept focus on her threading, managing weak smile. “You are just my way back home, I didn’t want to make the trip alone.”

                I huffed in affirmation, “I suppose so.” I stood up, stumbling for second from movement of boat. Regaining footing, I stretched. “How long was I asleep?”

                Rarity paused in threading, thinking for moment. “At least a day and a half. That’s why I was beginning to worry.”

                A few of joints popped during stretches, “That would explain soreness.” Stretching again, I felt tightness in midsection. Pulling up shirt revealed new bandages. “I take it you did this?”

                “Yes, I took the liberty of changing your bandages while you slept. Seeing as you complain that you don’t need it changed.” She set down thread and needle, looking self in eyes. “You really needed it, it was quite grotesque. Some more care about your own health on your part would do you well.”

                “Thank you, Nurse Rarity,” I rolled eyes. “Should I avoid difficult activity for twenty-four hours as well?”

                Woman got up and walked short distance to self. She stood taller, and looked up at self, menacing. A quick jab with two fingers into self’s healing wound made self wince lightly. “Forty-eight if you keep having an attitude. You’re lucky I didn’t shave that animal off your face.”

                I rubbed beard to make sure it was still on face, which it was. “If that were to happen,” I did not stop smug smile from growing on face. “I hope you know how to swim.”

                Her face turned bright color of red, and she huffed in frustration. “Oh the nerve of you, Arkady.”

                I laughed as I walked out of cabin, “Please try not to burst blood vessel while I am gone. Blood is very difficult to clean.” I continued to laugh as I closed door, hearing woman’s muffled frustrations become more verbal.

                Travel from cabin to above deck did not take long, for soon I was soon in company of Nestor and few crewmembers. They were sitting around table; playing cards and rubles intermixed. Cigarette smoke and smell of alcohol seemed at home with joyous laughter from group.

                “Arkady!” Nestor’s voice arose from laughter. “You are alive! Come, come, have a seat, comrade. I was beginning to think that you had taken final nap.”

                “I did not have last drink,” I laughed as I pulled up chair, finding space to sit. “Besides, woman managed to nag self awake.” This brought round of laughs from table. Soon, I had cigarette in mouth, drink in one hand, and cards in another. It took self few moments to get accustomed to playing types of Nestor, Pyotr, and Erik. Nestor played what he was given. Pyotr was slow on his turn, calculating each move and move after. Erik seemed to play quickly, like little thinking was involved

                It was friendly game of poker, something to keep mind off things. Smoke to relax, drink to forget, play to occupy. That is how it was.

                “So, Arkady,” Erik was first to speak of normal matters. His blonde short hair was mess on top of head. He was long and bit skeletal. With small stubble on chin, he had to be more than twenty years. “We have all been curious about that woman you travel with.”

                “Erik!” Nestor’s sounded one of scolding parent. “Each man has right to few secrets,” but he could not contain smile. “But, even I have been curious. You do not have to tell us everything, but maybe few details would suffice.”

                “I am merely guide back home.” I took pause with smoke, trying to think of way to answer. “She had run in with bandits, I am making sure she gets home.”

                It was quiet; people were forming replies in head. It was Nestor who gathered thoughts first. “Why?” he asked.

                I took long drag of cigarette; it was legitimate question. I wondered such question often. What drew self to help Rarity? “I fear if I were not to help, no one else would.”

                “What is your stake in it?” It was Pyotr who spoke. Man was older than self, yet younger than Nestor. His trimmed beard was in contrast to baldhead. He was thick in center, yet he was built like tank.

                “I have no stake in what happens.”

                “That is bullshit,” Pyotr laughed. “Every man has a reason.”

                “Da,” Erik joined in laughter. “I do not believe you are doing this out of the goodness of heart. From what I have been told, that is not way of Arkady Sakharov.”

                “Way of Arkady Sakharov?” This made me pause in sip, “Nestor, have you’ve been telling the young ones of my exploits?”

                “Only the good ones,” Nestor played his hand and collected smile pile of cash in middle of table, much to dismay of everyone. “No need to tell youngsters of Georgia.”

                “We agreed not to speak of such events again,” I smiled.

                “Ah,” Nestor shuffled out cards, dealing even number out to everyone. “I remember you saying such, I see waste of such good stories if they are not told.”

                Other two men were in bit of confusion. Which was only natural. There were things in past that were best forgotten, such were events in Georgia. It was not long time ago, but time in wilderness had numbed memories.

                I glanced at dealt cards, throwing in appropriate bet on table. “How long was that ago? Three? Four years?”

                “Maybe three if memory is correct.” Nestor took long drag of cigarette, exhaling big puff of smoke. “You were lot younger then.”

                I paused in reply, “That is how we all were. Young and naïve.” Still looks of bewilderment abounded from other men. “Nestor was with self when government decided that it had duty to protect its citizens in Georgia.” I shot smug glance at Nestor, “Which you still owe favors for.”

                “You will not let that rest will you? I thought all expense paid trip to west would make us even? Not to mention that you are bringing guest.”

                “I will continue to hold self saving your life on numerous occasions over your head for long time.” I glanced at new cards, tossing hand into middle. “For as long as I can.”

                “If I would have known this then,” Nestor lifted up glass in salute. “I would rather have T-72 do proper job.”

                I returned Nestor’s salute, “Then I will let it do such, next time.” Drink went down quickly, “But to answer first question. I do not have reason. I just have need to help. Such is hard to explain. Maybe I am becoming soft,” I contemplated notion before shrugging. “Bah, let’s just play game.”
 

* * *

                It took another day before we were in port in Alaska. Thanks to Nestor’s ties, we had little trouble. Everything was covered in thick layer of snow, though none fell. Sky still had grey color like home. What little people we saw were bundled in thick clothes like self. Though looking at surroundings not much had changed from Russia, except for presence of English and fact it was more populated than Russian counterpart.

                Nestor led us through town, my muscles aching at each step. Such is consequence with being contained in boat. I was surprised not to hear complaint from Rarity. Glancing at her, she was trailing behind us; preoccupied with taking in surroundings. Her now black hair was tightly packed in hood of parka, though some hairs splayed over face. Her face flushed in cold, making blue eyes seem brighter. She seemed out of place, yet that was not bad thing. Her stance, her walk seemed to draw attention without doing such. Even with thick clothing on, she still had curves. She was sight to look on, beautiful even.

                Thoughts stopped. I knew what I thought, I could not believe though. Rarity was certainly attractive, da. I shrugged off thoughts; maybe I was becoming soft.

                I turned focus to Nestor, who was beginning to talk. “This is Sergei’s house, you will be his guest. From here, you will be taking his plane. Sergei will drop you off as close to Canadian border as possible.  You will have to cross border and best way is to take railway. This railway is cross-country. I suggest taking that all the way to Montreal. It will be better than walking.”

                “Da, that would take too long. I would not like to walk five thousand kilometers. That would take better part of two months. At least.”

                “I thought I would save your feet for bit, Arkady. Payment for having to carry me for bit.” He laughed for second. “Though you may have to walk when you enter United States. A little exercise may do you good after being on train for long time. That should only be for week.”

                “I get feeling that I am going to be prisoner of small spaces for long time. Something I prefer to avoid. “

                “It is only week or so at most on train, you should be okay.” He gave me devious smile and brought voice to whisper, “Besides you have good company, what is there to be mad about?”

                “I suppose you are right.” Silence followed and stayed such for time. I did not mind such silence. Gave self time to concentrate on walking straight; time on boat seemed to have taken its effects causing sway in walk. I even caught self glancing back at Rarity few times, even to reassure self she was still there.

                Arriving at building at edge of town, Nestor told us to pause as he went in with Pyotr and Erik. Rarity and self were left out in cold for some time, awkward silence seeming to cut into conscious. After some time, Nestor returned alone, gesturing us to come in.

                “The bad news is that the weather will not be clear enough to fly for sometime. The good news is that Sergei will hopefully be sobered up by then to fly.” Nestor laughed quickly, but it went away as quickly as arrived. “More bad news is that I cannot stay. Erik and Pyotr were kind enough to bring your things here, but we have things to attend to back home. I am sorry.”

                I nodded, knowing this would happen, “You will be missing out on the excitement, Nestor.”

                “Ah, that is to be expected, Arkady. We cannot share in the fun forever. Hmm, one last thing,” he reached into pocket and pulled out envelope. “Just something to make ends meet.” He handed it over to self and I inspected contents, sum of money in both Canadian and American Dollars.

                “Thank you, Nestor.” It was Rarity’s first words today. “There has not been a more generous person I have met. Your sacrifice towards making sure I get home will be remembered. I really cannot thank you enough.”

                “Have you been giving her Russian literature, Arkady? Bah, it was my pleasure, Ms. Rarity.” He took her hand, though she took him in hug, which he returned. When they released he gave her a nod, “‘Til we meet again.”

                “Until we meet again,” her smile even seemed to warm my heart. “Best wishes.”

                “Thank you, now Arkady, anything else?”

                “Just one last favor to call in, then we will be even. Some of my more personal items back at my cabin, whatever those may be, I wish those to be sent to my sister, Nada.” I handed him envelope of my own. “Her address is in there, along with letter. Above all, I want her to get our great-grandfather’s rifle. That is all, the cabin is yours.”

                “You do not have plans of returning?” He thought for few seconds, but understood. “Alright then, I will carry your wishes.”

                “Thank you, it is just if I do not return,” I extended hand, which he took. “And if you do not hear from-.”

                “Bah, do not speak of such notions.” He took me in strong hug of his own. “Do not concern yourself, I will speak of the legends Arkady Sakharov for times to come.”

                “You are too kind, Nestor.” We released from embrace, I smacked his face lightly, “Just be sure to not include some tales of Georgia, only the good ones.”

                “Only the good ones, comrade. My word,” He gave mock salute. “Until we meet again.”

                “Indeed, comrade. If we do meet again, I will buy the first bottle.”

                “It better be a good one,” Nestor laughed slowly turning away. “Peace be with you.” I returned mock salute, my silent goodbye.

                Rarity and self watched him go, with Erik and Pyotr in tow. We stood out there in cold, watching him fade out in distance. Part of me wish I had said more, but I was not one for many words.

                “What a kind man,” Rarity sighed. Even without looking, I knew she still had smile on face.

                “Indeed, he is quite the man,” I wondered if I could even become like him: kind and generous. I mentally scoffed at self, becoming soft indeed. “Maybe one day I will tell you how we met.”

                “We have plenty of time,” she drew a bit closer, she turned to self still wearing that smile. “I’m sure I could share some stories as well.”

                “Hmm, it seems so.” I felt wind pick up. Looking up, clouds had rolled in from seemingly nowhere. I patted Rarity on back, ushering her to door of building. “Come, there is no need to get cold.”
> Thaw
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	If I were not thinking properly as I gaze out of frost-tinted window, I would have mistaken white flurry that crisscrossed lands for Motherland. Winter storm had been going on for better part of two weeks. So mistaking for home was natural; both were white and cold. It was like I had never left. Though self’s old cabin was now replaced with modern western living space. It was warmer and I had own bed. Rarity was overjoyed in first shower after longest time. In modernism, there was little to do. Little need to gather wood or hunt for food. Things of that nature had been stored and collected for such a storm. At home, I would even make treks out in winter storm even just for fresh air. I could not risk such trek now. I did not know area and I needed to stay well for journey. Term I have come familiar with was “Cabin Fever.”

Rarity seemed to not be bothered as I. She found many things to occupy time. From reading what little literature Sergei had, to sketching new fashions. We conversed little, for there was little to talk about. I mostly questioned her drawings, which she scolded self as being caveman for not knowing the highlights of popular fashion. It was difficult not to forcibly shake the fashionista out of her.

I found self, when not being lectured ‘til ears bled, observing. Stealing glances in between cups of coffee. Such glances turned into thoughtful looks, and not thoughts of ways to shake the fashionista out of her. I rationalized that it was only natural. Trying to understand person who was changing life so drastically. I also knew very little about her. Part of self wished to learn something from this enigma. At same time, I have no revealed much about self to her. Maybe I was as mystery to her as she was to self. Also, it was either winter storm or woman, so choice was simple.

Gaze now was focused on raging storm outside. Winds at least forty kilometers an hour were self’s best guess. I could only sigh, realizing it would mean more time trapped in cabin. Sipping on coffee/vodka mix, I scratched at midsection. Wound was healing well, thanks to woman’s help. Bandage was even taken off the other day. It made breathing cold air much easier. Nurse Rarity still advised bed rest and little excessive moment; though suggestion was more of joke.

Quick glance over shoulder, Rarity was nose deep into one of few books Sergei managed to find: a history book of all things. Her head shifted from book to notepad she was sketching on, then back to book. She would flip a few pages and sketch more. Her black hair was pinned back in bun, though few hairs could not be contained by her best attempts and drifted over face. Hair was accented by purple that started to break through roots. Where she had procured red-rimmed glasses, I have no idea, but they sat perfectly on nose.

Sergei was able to pick up clothing that suited Rarity to some degree. It seemed as though my caveman attire was not something she was not fond of. She made some alterations, so they worked better for her. So black sweater that was being worn now was to her standard. Sweater hugged tight to body, adding embellishment to already predominate curves. Such was way with pants that she wore as well. Maybe self was not completely at fault for stares.

“What is it you draw today?” I prepared myself for belittling with response.

“I was looking at some of the fashions throughout history, trying to draw inspiration from multiple eras.” Her focus did not remove itself from book in front of her.

“And how is that working for you?”

“Quite well, actually.” Rarity stopped and finally looked up at self, wearing small smile. “I’m quite fond of the more proper, and classier fashions of the 1920’s. All the flash and pizazz is quite inspiring.”

 “Hmm, okay.” I did not know what else to respond with. She went back to work without saying anything else. All this talk of fashion was foreign language to self. It was one language I had no intentions of learning.

It was few moments ‘till Rarity spoke up, “You’re awfully quiet as of late. Is something wrong?”

“What is there to talk about? We have been trapped in cabin for two weeks now. I have had little to do, but eat and sleep.”

She did not respond, but continued to sketch. I continued to drink and look out window. “You know,” I started to question. “You have never told me about where you lived.”

Sound of her pencil tip snapping echoed loudly in quiet room. “W-where I lived?”
                
“You mentioned sister some time ago. So logical thinking would say you would have lived somewhere.” I leaned up against wall; still taking small sips of coffee, though now with smile. “You simply could have not fallen from the sky.”

“Oh it’s not that interesting really.” She looked up from work, turning to self with a face that would not win a game of poker. “Why do you want to know about it?”

I shrugged, “Something to talk about, I suppose. Something you cannot yell at self about.”

“Oh, well, it seems only fair.” She collected herself, thinking of words to say. “I lived in a small village. A nice and quaint place surrounded by mountains. The air is clean and fresh. Everyone knows each other.” Her smile grew natural; look on face showed happiness in memory. “There was never a dull moment, that’s for sure.”

“It sounds too good to be sure,” I chuckled. “Was it sunny and twenty-six degrees everyday?”

“If the pegasi did their job ri-.” Rarity immediately stopped talking. The suddenness of quiet and word pegasi made self raise eyebrow. “Well, no, the weather is nice,” Rarity makes a quick recovery. “But it is much more tame than here in the winter. I mean, good heavens, I have never been this cold for this long in my life. I can’t imagine why you would choose to live in this arctic wasteland.”

Another shrug, “It is not this cold during rest of year. But it is my personal choice. It brings out the heartiness in people. It has changed you, nyet?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rarity thought for moment. “This whole experience has been something else.”

“That is something we can agree on. I had never expected to travel to west, under these circumstances even less.” I adjusted placement of body on wall, buying few seconds of thought. “I believe weird is not the right word. Anyway, continue about your life.”

“I lived a simple life, actually. I was a fashion designer.” Part of self knew such a fact, but it was nice to hear confirmed truth. “I haven’t really had any big breaks, just a lot of smile time designing. Some occasional big jobs.”

“That is fair, I did little anyway. I had to work in factory to help support family. Dreadful work, but it put food on table.”

Rarity turned to self, still remaining in chair. “So that’s what you were doing before you decided to be a hermit.” She jokingly smiled, “So how was the city you lived in, Tver, I believe?”

“Oh Tver? It is city off the Volga River, one of the predominate rivers in Russia. When it is nice, it is green and bright. Lots of trees, yet sort of flat. There are a few academies in the area.” It was easy to tell my memory was failing quite quickly. “It was a nice city. Nothing too great.”

“What about your family? Are they still in that area? I know you mentioned your sister,” Her smile grew sly. “You simply couldn’t have fallen from the sky.”

“Da, my sister is still in that area. You know that. You played as her for day. As for parents, they are no longer with us.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Rarity covered mouth as if she had spat out fire. “I-I didn’t mea-.”

“It is fine,” Gaze dropped to coffee cup still in hand, its brown contents reflecting self’s unphased face. “There has been time, it no longer bothers self. Besides, you had no knowledge of it. Do not worry. Father died when I was young, and Mother was not same after it. I had sister to take care of. Soon, Mother passed on and we lived with Grandfather.” I shifted gaze away from cup and back to Rarity, face wrought with concern. My smile did little to dispel her look. “What about your family? I am sure it is more whole than self’s.”

“Well,” She laughed a bit nervously. “Yes, but I still take care of my sister. My parents travel a lot, and I believe a stable home is what she deserves.” She looks down, sighing lightly. “Though, I admit, we argue a lot and I’m certainly not the best pon- person to live with sometimes.”

I had to stifle laughter, “At least you have courage to admit such.”

Her posture changed immediately, “This is no laughing matter, Arkady. Yes, I admit I am a demanding person, and a bit difficult to contend with.” She huffed, crossing arms forcibly, leaning back in chair. Her face took shade of glasses she wore. Even adding flip to hair that was over her face, for added effect.

Bringing cup to lips, I could not help but smile. “You know, you are quite cute when you are angry.”

Her gaze averted, as face grew darker in red. “Um, what did you just say?”

“Difficult to live with and hard of hearing?” I finished up last of coffee, making way to kitchen for another cup. “I said you are cute when you are angry. Goodness, you are thi-.”  Tight grip around my arm was cause for stop. I did not realize path to kitchen cut close to Rarity’s spot.

She did not look up and did not say a word, almost just content with keeping tight grip on arm. Few seconds felt like minutes before she spoke, “Thank you, Arkady.” Grip was released on arm and I stood there another few seconds, unsure of what to say or do. So, I did nothing, walking to kitchen.

Focus would not arrive in kitchen. I could not even find the vodka. Huffing in frustration, I hung head as wave of emotions hit self. Body wanted to rid self of stomach contents, but I refused such. As body slowed and head stopped spinning, gaze drifted to side. Bottle was not so hidden on countertop. Skipping on coffee, cup poured was straight vodka. Cup in hand, I paused before sip. Pause was unknown, but pause was not for long period of time. The small burn of drink going down throat was natural as water. Putting glass back down, I was content with staring out window, watching snow blow past across land. So far away from home, but not far enough.

I heard someone walk into kitchen, but I did not pay much attention. Steps became closer and soon enough two arms gently wrapped around midsection, with warm body pressed against back. It was quiet for few moments before person spoke.

“I really wish you wouldn’t drink so much,” Rarity’s soft voice was barely above whisper. “It’s like you’re trying to forget.”

“You would never make good Russian,” I sigh. “It is just something we do. Besides, there is little good to remember anyway.”

“So when I go, you will continue to drink?” There was skip in her voice. “Like this never even happened?”

“It is difficult to say this never happened. So, there is little drink can do to make self forget all of this.”

“A-are you positive?” I turned to woman, who still kept arms around midsection. Her face was flush and eyes red from tears.

Another sigh, placing reassuring grip on her shoulders, “Yes, I am positive.”

“Hold me, please.” Her whisper was barely audible.

“I am sorry, wha-“

“I said: Shut. Up. And. Hold. Me.”

Not wanting to anger Rarity any further, I stood up a bit straighter, wrapping arms around her. Grip around midsection tightened as I pulled her closer. She even hummed lightly, laying her head against my chest. Her fingers drew circles on back. Self even drew her closer, setting chin on top of her head. I did not dare move, partly at loss with situation. Small part of brain wished for bear attack instead of current situation. Other part was happy of situation, overjoyed in closeness, delighted in smell of her flower shampoo. It was feeling I had not felt in long time. Feeling of breath against chest only reminded self that it was indeed not a dream.

“I thought you said I smell bad,” self’s mouth decided to ruin silence.

Without looking down I knew she had smile on face, “You still do. You always smell, but I don’t think a shower could change that.”

“One could hope, nyet?” I looked down at her and she pulled face off of chest, looking up at self. There was look on her face like small dog, begging for scraps at table.

“OI! Comrade!” Sergei busted in through kitchen door. The squat man stumbled into kitchen, his smile barely hidden by thick, graying beard. “I have good news! Where is vodka?” He paused, slowly becoming aware of scene in front of him; his two guests in each other’s arms. His evaluation of scene was followed by chuckle.

I reach behind self to grab bottle, moving it closer to him while loosening grip around Rarity, who returned to laying face on chest. “What is this good news?”

Sergei held up finger, telling self to wait while he took long drink straight from bottle. He sighed happily, as bottle was brought away from lips. “Weather should be clear enough to fly by tomorrow afternoon.” He took another swig from bottle. “So I suggest the happy couple gathers their things and prepares for long day tomorrow. Arkady, I need your help to prep the aircraft tomorrow morning. So another suggestion is to get lots of rest, not stay up too late, and please keep noise down for I would like to sleep as well.” He laughed to self, turning to leave room. He took bottle with him as he left.

Silence filled room again, save for breathing. “Are all you Russians like that?” It was Rarity’s soft whisper again. “With the drinking?”

“Not all,” I could only shrug. “Though it seems like everyone does. Is like national pastime.” I paused, thinking for second, “It is probably bad for image. Now then,” I patted her cheek lightly with hand, “Sergei was right in suggesting rest. We have long day tomorrow.”

Another small surprise when she took my hand in hers, keeping it on her cheek. She seemed to melt around fingertips, humming softly. After few seconds, she released grip. Letting both our hands fall. “Okay,” voice was monotone as she released arm around midsection and made way for door. Opening door, she paused in doorframe, turning head with half-smile, “Goodnight, then.”

Closing the door behind her, I was left alone in kitchen. Turning back to window, I was alone with the winter storm on other side of glass. Objects outside were barely visible in white haze and the winter twilight. I knew there was a town out there, people living lives, but thanks to damned storm, there was only white. No matter how much I longed for images beyond the white to be forests of home, their shape would not change.

I longed for many things. Feeling of great-grandfather’s rifle on shoulder, frost accumulating on beard as I sighted on choice animal. Having just self to rely on. Self was such an easy word to speak of. But the traditionalist Russian in self preached bigger: camaraderie, duty, and honor. This was one of few times I had true duty and it relied on my honor to uphold it. To make sure Rarity got home. Though first notion was difficult to have firm grasp on. Camaraderie, da, we were together in struggles on journey. Da, she has depended on self for many things. But, was it camaraderie? Nyet, it was not. Something else.

This was all difficult. Part of self wanted to follow Rarity, comfort her more. Nyet, other part said. The protector does not take advantage. This is your duty. It is first true cause, do not take advantage of such predicament. I sighed; I had duty, a promise to uphold. It was for best anyways, da?

Was it truly for best? And for whom was this best? There was certain happiness found with Rarity. As much as I did not want to admit such, such feeling was there. Now, I was not completely sure. She too had certain feelings, but this was still mystery woman. A rarity as she was, it should be duty first.

Headache started to appear.

Damn these emotions. Damn them all. 

Putting head in hands, massaging temples did little to relieve pain. Gaze drifted to vodka remaining in cup. I scoffed, realizing Sergei had taken the bottle with him. Grabbing the cup, it paused halfway to lips. The memory of Rarity’s words and drinking, it itched in back of head. Grip tightened around cup as anger began to rise, glass began to crack.

I continued to drink, finishing off contents quickly. There was little time to register burn of drink before slamming cup into ground. It shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“FUCKING SHIT!” I did not care who heard me. Cleaning up mess would come later. Pain started to register from hand. There was nice cut in hand from broken glass. I muttered more curses under breath. Fumbling with cigarette and lighter, I took long drag, letting exhale be just as long. Smoke made small cloud ‘til dispersing to rest of room. Examining cigarette, blood started to stain white paper. Gaze did return to storm raging outside, the snow not ceasing to blow, the white flurry sparkling in winter twilight. It was all white, that’s all it was. That is how it has always been. White snow everywhere.

And I hated it.

> The Grey
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	As compared to day before, it was colder, but lack of storm blowing into face made cold bearable. In the still dark of morning, Sergei woke self, laughing to himself how he was only waking up one person. Ignoring his jest, I finished preparation for journey, putting what little I had as possessions into rucksack. Clothes, survival supplies, shelter; things that would prove useful in later portion of journey. Small essentials found place in pack as well: small hygiene kit, medical kit, some canned foods, things of that nature. Woman’s pack held more or less same supplies. While self’s pack was at least 150 kilos, hers was half. I would not like to hear complaints of pack being heavy. After double-checking items, packing and repacking both rucksacks, I saw that such was good and went to kitchen.

Coffee did little to stimulate senses. Only thing to feel was numbing cold. Even after third black cup, tiredness’ grip did not cease. Breakfast only filled stomach, providing little energy. I mumbled more curses under breath after putting new bandage around cut on hand. Soon, we were heading into cold after Sergei forced self to pull tight on parka. Sergei continued to chuckle at self’s misery. More curses were mumbled.

The lack of snowfall left only sound between Sergei and I to be crunching of footfalls. Lack of conversation I was happy for, no poking or prodding questions. Only putting one foot in front of other. Trying to follow Sergei’s dark shadow in blackness. Simple.

It was short walk to airfield from Sergei’s cabin. Bright lights of ice plows were already at work clearing runway and taxiways. Sergei continued to lead in silence past many hangars before finally stopping at the door of one. Unlocking of door unveiled large dark room that was colder than outside. Sergei was busy humming to himself, letting his flashlight guide us both.

The small beam of light fell upon old silver aircraft, its shine hidden by thick layer of dust. Two giant propeller engines on each wing bore many cobwebs. “What do you think?” Sergei announced, gesturing to aircraft. “Gentle giant! Same plane as Amelia Earhart!”

“What a piece of junk,” I scoffed at him. “Will it even fly?”

 “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts. I have made a lot of special modifications myself. So, yes, she will fly,” he quickly retorted at my accusation before letting loose loud laugh. “I have near thousand hours. Just not been able to get out much. Storm, you know.”

“Whatever,” I shrugged. “What do we need to get done?”

“Start the generator, to warm hangar. A warm plane is happy plane.” He opened the door to the rear of the aircraft, earning a coughing fit from all the dust. “Maybe vacuum. We do not want Princess complaining.”

“Yeah. Just point self in right direction.”

A hand popped out of aircraft, thumbing in direction behind aircraft. “Somewhere in that direction.” Hand popped back in then out, “Catch,” tossing flashlight.

“Thanks,” catching the wayward light and waving him off, I made way to tail end of aircraft. After fighting through cobwebs and layers of dust, finding generator was simple. Starting it was other matter. The unused machine was stubborn as self. The cord to pull start engine was stuck. A few curses and physical application of foot released it from grip. Few quick pulls later, generator was humming, sending more dust everywhere.

“It is on, Sergei,” was self’s coughing fit over humming of generator. “Where is this damn vacuum?”

“Turn on lights first,” his head popped out top of aircraft, presumably by cockpit. “I cannot see shit.”

“Then where is light switch?”

“Over there,” he thumbed behind him, back towards door.

“Why do you keep light switch and generator in different places?”

He laughed, “To keep people asking me questions.” He dove back into plane, laughing, before I had time for retort.

“Clever piece of shit,” I sighed.

“The state hears all!” came his booming voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling eyes before walking in direction of light switch. It was not much to fight through cobwebs and dust to light switch, but was difficult to find. Flipping it resulted in more humming. Hanger slowly became lit as lights came alive. I called out to Sergei, “Do self’s actions please the state?” 

Sergei’s head popped back out of the aircraft, standing as proudly as small space would allow. “You have pleased the state with your glorious actions. Comrades rejoice across the Motherland, speaking nothing but praises for you. As we speak, a parade is being made.” He made motion as if he was speaking to second person. “Take him behind factory, have him shot.”

That brought self to smile. “Such is life. Anything else? Oh wait, glorious vacuum. Where is it?”

This made Sergei laugh harder than usual, doubling over. In midst of laughter, he pointed thumb behind him. “The generator.”

I rubbed the bridge of nose, it kept self from yelling in frustration. “You are enjoying this, are you not?”

“Too much.” I made out through his laughter. “Bring tool set over as well. I need to check few things.”

“Is there anything else the state wants?”

“Vodka, a sandwich, and woman who doesn’t complain much.”
This brought another round of laugh from both of us. “So you just want Vodka then? That is best I can do.”

“Da, though not too much, I have to fly plane later.” He dove back into aircraft, but soon returned. “Speaking of woman. You might want to wake yours.”

Making way back to generator, I ignored his statement for moment. “In due time. It would be better for her to sleep.” Vacuum was easy to spot and drag over to door of aircraft. “Tools?”
        
        He appeared at the door, sitting on ledge. “Behind you, actually.”
        
        Turning around did reveal toolbox. Turning back around revealed a smiling Sergei. “Why did you not get it yourself, you lazy yuk.”
        
        He laughed, “The state should not over exert itself.”
        
        “Right, you should be able to get it.” Waving Sergei off, I headed to door. “I will see if Princess wants to join us.”
        
        “I thought you wanted to have her sleep more?”
        
        “The State lies, does it not?” Flipping hood over head, I opened door. “Besides, I would like to leave. If all goes well, I should return within a week.” He waved me off before popping back into aircraft.

Opening door to outside brought sharp wave of cold, a cold that cut through parka. It became difficult to remember time when there was no cold. When no frost stuck to face. When cold air did not cause self to shiver. Maybe it was first time self noticed cold. It had been part of life for so long. I had grown accustomed to cold. I shook off those feelings, trying to focus on putting foot in front of other. Walk back to Sergei’s cabin. Wake the sleeping beast. That thought brought chuckle. No, she was not beast. Just difficult to understand. But, so were beasts.

Thoughts occupied self long enough for walk back to cabin. Warmness in cabin brought cold out of body in shiver. Without wind blowing in face, there was lull that I could not escape. Arriving at her door, the lull hurt my ears. Even behind door, her soft breaths resonated. Enough to say she was still asleep. Closed door kept self standing there for some time. Long enough to consider walking back to Sergei.

Opening door, it was difficult to find her under pile of blankets she was under. She was lying on side, back to door. Finding open spot on edge of bed, I sat down, trying not to disturb her too much. Even in slumber, she looked delicate. Her hair seemed to reject notion of sleep and appeared to stay perfect. Finding what was shoulder under mound of blankets was bit difficult, but hand kept position there on her shoulder. Part of self could not wake her, but other part knew it was necessary. I went with latter, shaking gently. She hummed gently, moving slightly under grip.

“Rarity, wake up,” another shake and she hummed again. A smile appeared on her lips. “It is time go.” Another shake and she did not stir further. “Rarity, one warning, I will pull you out of this bed.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she mumbled, her smile growing.

That brought chuckle out, “You wish for me to throw you out into snow? It can be arranged.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling onto back. “You’re no fun.”

“I never was fun to begin with.” I patted her shoulder, getting off of bed. “Get dressed, we are leaving soon.”

“Fine,” was her grumble, sitting up in bed.

“I will make your breakfast while you dress. Try not to complain too much.” I made way to door, hearing her mumble things to herself. It was easy to ignore. Even easier to ignore when I was out of room, in kitchen. Thankfully, she was easy to cook for. Eggs, toast, and tea was enough to satisfy. Though, I waited few minutes to start, so that it would not be cold when she arrived. In the dead time, I started to make more coffee. Also so I would not hear more complaints. Dealing with her whining was not high on list of things to do.

I was not to wait long. At least twenty minutes at most, time for enjoying one cup of coffee. Rarity strolled into the kitchen, with very neutral look on face. She wore set of heavy pants and purple sweater with boots to match. I wondered where she had gotten such clothes, but it was matter for another time. I had to cook.

“How do you want eggs?” I asked, cracking eggs over warm pan. “Like usual?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” she kept off to side, folding arms and leaning up against wall. “How long have you been up?”

“Too long.” I spoke over sizzling of egg. “And it is too cold.” Silence persisted after I spoke. I did not feel like making effort of closing gap. Words were not worth effort. And effort was diverted into making breakfast.

Toast popped from toaster and put on plate along with eggs. “Here,” was all I managed… all I wanted to say. I did not expect reply nor did I receive reply. Between silent sip of coffee and quiet bits of food, one could hear wind beat against window.

I could feel cold gaze from her every few seconds. Silence must have been too much, for she spoke up. “What happened to your hand?”

My bandaged hand was holding my cup. Taking sip, I brought cup away from lips, changing hands. “I cut it.”

“It just seems very unlike you to take care of your injuries.”

“I do what I have to. I have to remind self that I won’t have a nurse all the time.”

“Yes,” she smugly smiled. “We all have to grow up eventually.”

I winced at passing blow. “I am still alive, if that is proof that have grown up enough. I am surprised you have made it this far.”

She took a last bite of food before placing fork thoughtfully placing fork on lips. “By that logic, I’ve lost a few years. I certainly look it.”

“A little exercise tends to be better for people, da.” I took her now empty plate and put it in sink. “It tends to make one not so round in middle.” Her lack of quick response and boiling feeling on back of skull only brought small smile to face.

“You think what we’ve been doing all this time has been exercise?” I could only imagine her expression. Her fiery tone was enough explanation. “We have yet to leave this house and you call that exercise?”

“This is most excitement I have had for long time.” A noncommittal shrug was added for effect. “So da, exercise.”

“You call all this sitting around exercise?”

“Da,” I turned to face my accuser. “Taking care of you has been a workout.”
Shade of red her face turned was one I had yet to see. Somewhere between embarrassment and frustration. Not quite bold blood crimson, but like blood splatter on snow. Smile continued to brighten as her eyes continued to stab. “So, I’m a burden now?”

“Nyet, I said you are workout, not burden: two different words. Burden would mean you are hindering self’s progress. Workout would mean that you are making self do something I have yet to do, ever. Two very different words.”

After being severely injured in her eyes few times, she collected herself before letting out weighed sigh. “Are you quite finished? Or are you going to continue to be immature? Because I can assure you, your petty jokes are just that.”

My smile went away with a shrug. “Whatever you say. But yes, I am done with jokes.” I left place and went to grab both packs. After adjusting my own pack on back, I carried Rarity’s pack back to where I left her in kitchen. Her pack clattered on ground in front of her. “We leave in ten. I have packed your rucksack. You may put whatever else you see fit in it.”

There was quick struggle to pick up pack before she stomped off, which in turn brought out a chuckle. Such small girl with big boots, it was any wonder how she fit them. But was not of huge concern at moment. Making sure everything was at one hundred percent was of top priority. Not having left anything vital was of top priority. Trying not to split blood vessel in head was also top of list of things to do. Jokes were preventative measure of last task.

I was able to enjoy final cup of coffee when Rarity walked back in kitchen, heavy jacket on, rucksack causing her to slump, and unhappy scowl completing look. “What did you put in here? Rocks?”

“It has what is necessity for travel ahead. If it troubles you, you can carry my pack if you wish.”

“What are you carrying then?”

“Bigger rocks,” was smug reply which was returned with roll of eyes and lack of reply. Which was easily accepted as no. “Very well then. We should leave now. Last check for your things.”

She stared in disbelief for few moments. “You packed my things and what little I have was easy to find. I think we can leave now.”

“Whatever you say,” I shrugged. “Enjoy last bit warmth you will feel for some time.” Another roll of eyes was reply. I was in no mood to argue again.

Opening door, cold gust of wind woke up self more than coffee. Quick sigh and I was out of door, followed by Rarity. Sun was still nowhere to be seen, but darkness was replaced with dull grey twilight. It was only making it barely better to see where self was walking. Walk to hanger was like one with Sergei. Quiet. Silence, save for crunching of snow and wind. Even when self looked towards her, just to check, she averted gaze. It was understandable. Bridge has been crossed and, by Soviet standards, torched to ground. Not one-step backwards. Such is Soviet standards, nyet?

Hanger was significantly warmer, after shouldering open ice covered door. The aircraft gleamed in the shining lights, dust and cobwebs that once hindered beauty now gone. It looked flyable and not museum piece. A new confidence in Sergei’s ability was found.

The pilot’s head popped out of cockpit after hearing door slam closed. “Welcome happy couple! We will soon be boarding for flight to Canada! So please, load all belongs in cargo hold, and make ready for last minute flight check.” After announcement he ducked back into cockpit as quickly as he arrived.

                Booming voice echoed for few moments before hanger returned to silence. “He’s certainly lively this morning,” Rarity said. I could feel glare, as her eyes bore holes in side of head. “More than someone I know.”

                It was self’s turn to roll eyes. “I have moments. This morning is not one of such moments.” I started to make way to aircraft.

                “I don’t think you have had one of those moments in a long time.” Rarity followed, keeping few paces behind self.
        
        “And you are probably right,” I shrugged. “And I can’t remember when last one was.”
        
        “Why?” was her quick answer and question.
        
        “Because,” I stopped and turned to her, “I do not feel like thinking about the past right now. Happy?”
        
        A light sigh escaped her lips, while look of almost defeat appeared on face. Though it disappeared as quickly as it appeared, being replaced with frustration. “Yes, happy.” She pushed past self, and kept walking towards aircraft.
                
After mumbling few curses to self about situation life had put self in, self followed after her towards aircraft. Sergei was already greeting Rarity with smiles and laughs, which she returned. Her frustration eased away with each laugh. I need to thank Sergei for such action. He helped with her relieving of her pack and getting her into aircraft.
        
        I approached while he put the pack into the cargo hold and he took mine as well, easing it into the hold. “What are the last things we need to do?” was self’s question.

                After taking deep breath and closing cargo hold door, “Open hangar doors, pull aircraft out, start her, close doors and lock up hanger, after such we will be on our way.”
                
“Sounds too simple.”

                “Da, it does. Thankfully, it is that simple,” He made way to hangar doors. “Come along, let’s make it quick. I wish to not be cold for very long.” Heavy doors took a simple unlock from ground then strong shoulder to push open. Wind rushed in with opening doors, fueling our efforts.

                With doors opened, Sergei ran over to tug, started it, and connected with aircraft. Slowly, silver giant moved forward out of its cave. Returning the tug into hanger, he motioned for self to start closing hangar doors. Heavy shoulder was once again required for sliding doors back into place. They clanged shut with each lock. Exiting side door, which Sergei locked behind us, we trudged through snow to taxiway where aircraft was.
        
        “We need to rotate propellers few times,” he said, going over checklist in head. “Get juices properly flowing in her.”
                
“Whatever you say, Sergei,” following him to each engine. Rotating each propeller few times, the cold metal’s frost seeping past my warm gloves.

                “Right, right. Into the plane!” He ordered, and we both made way to back of aircraft, stepping up into side door into aircraft. It was first time inside aircraft. It was reminiscing of glory days of flight of 50s era. Washed out khaki and brown interior with matching seat. Highlight of dark blue were here and there. Maybe dozen seats with only one being occupied, each with its own window, lined sides. Ceiling was low, so crouched walk was only method of walking. Sergei slid into pilot’s seat, putting on headset, and I took spot next to him, mimicking his action. Cockpit was filled with aged dials and gauges, while GPS stood out being less aged than rest of instruments. After wiping dusts off of few of gauges, Sergei flipped few switches and dull hum filled cockpit.

                “Now here comes fun part,” Sergei said with smile. “CLEAR.” Dull hum turned into whine and propellers started to turn over, slowly at first before gaining speed.  Engines started to cough every few seconds, before jumping to life with loud growl, spewing out cloud of exhaust. “HAHA!” Sergei cried victoriously over rumbling of twin engines. “Only one try!” He patted top of control panel, as if thanking aircraft for being cooperative. He flipped few more switches and checked instruments and control surfaces for anything, continuing to check his preflight checklist. “Tower,” He called on radio. “This is Yankee Three, requesting permission to enter flight line.”

                “Yankee Three,” voice over radio responded. “This Tower, you’re our first one today. What’s the flight plan, over?”

                “Refueling at Nome, then Takonta for second refueling, top off at Palmer, landing at Skagway before return trip,” Sergei’s voice only audible through headset. “Three souls aboard, over.”

                “Copy, Yankee Three. Proceed to taxi to runway 9/27, over.”

                Sergei smiled, “Thank you, Tower. Have nice day.” He eased off brakes and we rumbled slowly forward down taxiway. It took few minutes to get into position where Sergei made final final check on instruments and control surfaces. After concluding everything was satisfying, he reconfirmed take off with Tower, and the plane rolled onto the runway. Gaze drifted to passenger area to Rarity. She wore look of awe and distress and was looking out window. Sergei followed my gaze and his chuckle was lost in roar of engines. “You can go sit with her if you please,” his voice crackled over radio into my headset. “I am fine up here.”

                “It is fine. I am your copilot,” was reply before turning forward. “Tell self what to do.”

                He gave self blank stare, almost curious gaze. It was held for few seconds, as if thinking of way to reply. A sigh was lost in engine noise, “Very well, I will need you to check map for heading and direction, just to double check with GPS.”
        
        “Ok, anything else?”
        
        Sergei’s smile grew again, “Yes, put chair in upright position and prepare for take off.” He pushed the throttle forward and eased off the brakes. The plane picked up speed down runway, engines roaring. Slowly the rear end of plane picked up off ground; then the plane jumped and the front wheels were off the ground. And we were off in the grey morning sky.
> Far From Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                Following large figure in front of self was easy enough. Putting own footfalls in his own as to reduce noise took bit getting used to. Self’s warm breath was clouding vision with each step. The figure stopped and turned with wrinkled smile, etched upon face, one arm cradling rifle; his graying hair hidden under black ballcap and stout figure hidden under thick long coat.

                “Come along now, boy,” he waved self on. “Hurry up.”

        “Da, grandfather,” was huffed reply, trying to increase pace and length of step. Finally catching up to him, his smile grew proud as he patted head.

        “Good, it is just over hill. Small hike, nyet?” He chuckled lightly. “Now try not to fall behind too much. I do not wish to wait on you.”

        “Of course, grandfather,” I nodded to reaffirm. “I will stay close.”

        Another pat on head and a,“Good boy,” before grandfather returned to quick pace and self’s struggle to match. I could feel pack’s straps digging into shoulder, but refrained from speaking of it. Story of how father would have not complained would return for thousandth time. I would not like to hear story for thousand and first time.

                Hill’s incline proved to be difficult to navigate and feet faltered. Ground was quick to meet face. In trying to push self off ground, arms would not respond so face met ground again. Grandfather’s footfalls stopped, but remained where they were, as if waiting. “Get up Arkady,” he called out after few moments.

“I cannot, grandfather, we’ve been walking all day. I’m tired.” I lay there, gripping dirt, trying to not to cry out in pain.

                “Get up, Arkady.” He called out again.

                “But, I ca-,”

        “Do not give your bullshit excuses,” he interrupted, voice growing in intensity.  “Now get up.”

        With any strength I tried to put into lifting self off the ground, I was only rewarded with failure. Grandfather’s footfalls grew closer with each failed attempt. He was standing over self before I sunk into ground, wishing it to swallow self.

        “Up.”

        “I am trying.”

        “Up.”

        “Grandfather, I am tr-,”

        “I said up.”

        “But I-,”

        “Stop talking. You are wasting air. Up.”

        Another strained attempt brought self up farther, before arms collapsing and putting face to ground.

        Presence of grandfather grew closer as he crouched down. “One of two things are going to happen. One, you get up. We continue walking. Two, I keep walking and come back later. Now. Up.”

        Another struggle, self’s arms burning to push up. Knees shook pulling under my body. Another push, pack straps pulled hard against shoulders, and I was flung to my feet, stumbling to gain balance. Looking to grandfather, he was still crouched, shaking head. Using rifle as crutch, he pushed himself up. He took few seconds to compose what he was going to say, “Do not listen to body, it lies. It is much more capable than it tells mind. Do not forget that.”

        I took few deep breaths and regained balance. “Thank you.”

        “Do not thank me yet,” He turned and kept walking. “We are not even close to finished with day.”

        After quick sigh, I followed after, minding each step. We continued up hill, no words being said. Struggle up slope was not as difficult as before and I kept better pace with grandfather. Reaching crest of hill, we finally stopped, gazing into valley below.

        “Set your pack there,” he pointed to ground just over crest of hill. “Should be good spot.” Without response, I set pack down at spot. “Ok, now set up spot like I taught you.”  A nod, he turned back to self, and self brought out contents of pack. Small mat with pack at head went down. Small sand bag went on top of pack. Next came setting up small folding chair next to blanket, then putting binoculars on chairs.

                “Finished,” self said. Grandfather turned around and began inspection. Walking around the small set up.

                He hummed to self, circling several times. “This would suffice, however, it was too slow. Again.”

                Self’s disappointed sigh was only argument before repacking everything and giving nod to start again. Set was bit sloppier, mat was not as straight and pack was angled wrong. Another try, the sandbag was not centered; next time mat was flipped upside down. By fifth time it was deemed acceptable. He nodded and hummed to self, circling one last time.

                “It is good, finally. Take your spot.”

                “Yes sir,” was simple response as I sat on small chair. Picking up binoculars, eyes scanned valley below. Out of corner of eye, Grandfather took prone position adjusting rifle on sandbag. I looked for anything of interest in valley. Anything. There was nothing for long time. It must have been over hour before a deer stepped into clearing.

                “Deer, 500 meters.” Was guess after quick estimation. Grandfather’s demeanor changed. Shifting weight in stance and breathing slowed. Adjusting rifle, he breathed again. Finally, his process stopped.

                “Switch, now,” His voice quick to point.

                “But I have not-,”

        “You are twelve and you are learning now.”

        “Yes sir.” Getting up from chair, I relieved grandfather behind rifle as he took chair spot. Sitting behind rifle was new experience. Smooth wood stock felt big and heavy in hands. It sat awkwardly in hands and against shoulder.

        “Work bolt so action is open.” I did as instructed and the smooth action opened easily. “Here,” he handed self clip of bullets. “Put them in.” Also done as instructed, but bullets took bit of force to slide into rifle. “Now work bolt forward.” It worked forward with ease, putting bullet into chamber. “You are now responsible for anything you hit with that bullet. Be it tree, rock, or that deer at 500 meters. You have ultimate power and decision. It is not something to take lightly. Life in balance of few kilograms of pressure.” Heart skipped beat at notion. It was lot to take in.

“Breath, slowly,” Grandfather spoke smoothly, as if he could hear heartbeat. “Adjust sights so rear sight is at it is at five. Put front post level with groove of rear sight  groove and breathe slowly.” Out of corner of eye grandfather was peering in binoculars at deer. “Put front post on the middle of deer, right behind shoulder blades.”

“But I can barely see it,” I struggled to keep rifle centered.

“Just breathe and wait; in through nose, out through mouth. You have all the time you need.” Breathing as told, rifle slowed in movement before settling on small figure of deer. “Take time, if you have target, breathe and squeeze trigger slowly. Do not pull it quickly, it messes with your aim.”

The deer stood there, grazing at whatever grass it could find, at least that is way it looked like at 500 meters. Continuing as instructed, I began to pull trigger slowly, trying best to keep pull even. Without warning the rifle shuttered, and recoil sent stock into shoulder with force. With ears ringing, I could not understand what grandfather was saying, but he appeared to be laughing.

“-od shot, Arkady!” I heard as hearing returned. Grandfather patted shoulder. “You are natural.” He laughed again, standing up. “Quickly, pack up. We must inspect your shot.” Handing rifle to him, I put everything back into pack, which felt much lighter than earlier. After slinging pack over shoulders we walked down hill side by side. He ruffled my hair with his hand. “You did good, boy. Now, don’t tell your mother.”

“Do not worry, I will not tell her anything,” I smiled up at him.

"Tell me what?” my gaze snapped to behind me. Rarity was few paces behind me. Cold hit senses like hammer. Pack grew heavier than imagined. I was no longer twelve and Grandfather was no longer beside me. It took second to remember where we were, somewhere between Skagway and Prince Rupert. At least two days ago Sergei landed plane in Skagway and we parted ways. Easiest way was to follow coastline, though colder and humid salty air hung like wet cloth. Thankfully, we were only trudging through few centimeters of snow.

“Nothing. It is nothing.”

She gave self strange look. “You sure? You’ve been talking to yourself for some time now. Something you want to talk about?”

“No. It is nothing.”

“Maybe just a minute to sit down and rest, we’ve been walking all day. I know you haven’t been sleeping well. Also, my feet are killing me.”

It did not take long to contemplate notion, “Yes.” Dropping pack and collapsing onto ground, “That would be for best.”

She approached and sat down next to self, “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“I am only tired. Nothing more.” Automatically, I started to unpack, setting out things needed to prepare campsite. She placed hand on shoulder, “I have said it is nothing,” I said, shrugging her off.

“I’m only trying to help,” she humphed.

“You can help by setting up camp. Simple, nyet?”

“Fine.” She stepped away, creating room while she unpacked her pack.  “Um, how do I set up the tent again?”

“Chyort, woman,” I let frustration get best of self. “Have you never been camping?”

“Well,” she giggled nervously, side stepping self’s frustration. “You would never have considered what I did “camping” as compared to this. So this is a new experience.”

“Okay,” taking deep breath trying to calm self down. “Bring out tent so I can show you again.” After quick rummaging through pack she found the case for her small tent. “Clear space for it. Make sure there is little rocks or other things like that. From there we shall set up tent.” Trying to dig into cold earth was dealt with some difficulty, but was eventually accomplished. Set up after clearing was also met with minor difficulty. Not in set up but in trying to teach to Rarity. Explanation was made simple as possible. Patience was in short supply, but I made do.

Self’s tent went up much quicker than Rarity’s. It needed to be done quickly, as sun began making decent down and temperature became colder. Final preparations were made: packs strung up high above ground, sleeping arrangements finished, and fire made. There we sat, enjoying small comfort of burning fire.

“Beans?” I offered her open can with spoon. She took can, eye remaining on fire. I took place across from her across fire, eating own can of beans slowly. “If we wake up early, we should be able to arrive at Prince Rupert by mid afternoon." She nodded, no words, shadow of flames flickering across face. “Rarity, you are not talking.”

“What?” She returned to land of living, “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“That is certainly unlike you,” I chuckled.

“I could say the same about your willingness to stop early for the night,” she shot back. “Usually there’s an argument.”

“I thought it would be for best.”

She took small bite from beans, shrugging. “Whatever you say, Arkady.”

We ate in silence for some time, having crackling fire fill void of conversation. “I was remembering grandfather. That is all.” My own words caught self off guard. Even more when words continued to flow. “When he first taught self to shoot. It was long time ago.”

“I guess we’re both remembering home,” she pulled knees closer. “It’s my sister. I just hope she’s been okay.” In-between crackles of fire there was sniffle.

Shuffling around fire, I sat next to her, my own actions contradicting notions of being protector. But the protector comforts? He makes sure she is okay, not just physically. I concluded argument in head and continued conversation. “I have not heard much of your sister, tell self about her.”

“I see her when you make me breakfast.” She giggled lightly. “Mind you, you don’t burn the eggs to charcoal.”

I chuckled, “Does she now?”

“Da, really.” Smile grew on face as she emerged from somber shell. “I remember one time she glued my valuable gems onto a card she made for me. I was furious at first, but it’s more of the thought that counts. It was a lovely card, actually. She’s all heart, and sometimes I forget that.”

“Surely that cannot be everything.”

“No,” she laughed, leaning into self. Her action caught self off guard. It was surprising, yet welcome gesture. “Not at all. She made the card because she shrunk one of my wool sweaters.” She laughed again remembering memory. “It was a nice sweater too.”

“Really?” Another chuckle as fire crackled again, sending sparks high. “She must be piece of work, like yourself.”

“She is very much like myself. She’s full of heart and does everything to the best of her ability. I’ve accepted that and love her for that.”

“You both still walk, so that is good.”

“Yes,” warmth of fire was comforting as her grip around arm started. I was expecting this gesture, moving to make grip comfortable for both parties. “What were you saying about your grandfather? I know you have mentioned him before. With taking you in after your parents…” She left sentence hang in air and drift away with smoke.

“Yes, when parents passed. Grandfather took place as surrogate father when father passed, before taking sister and I completely in when mother passed. Taught me better points in life. Shoot and survive. What we are doing now. Not something planned.”

“What was planned then?”

“Depends on when you ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked when I was child, I wanted to be cosmonaut. See stars. See Space. Maybe Moon one day.” I laugh, more at self than anything. “Ask self when I was twelve and I wanted to be pilot like grandfather. Ask self when I was teenager and I wanted to be teacher. Sister is following that dream that now. Ask self when I returned from Georgia and I wanted nothing to do with this world.”

“What happened in Georgia?”

“Nothing good. That is for sure.” I shook head. “Forget it. You said you were a fashion designer, what made you choose such job?”

I felt her shrug, “I guess I was born to do it. It comes naturally and I really enjoy what I do. And a lot of people like what I make. Even made things for a Princess before.”

“The humble one you are,” I smirked. She hummed in reply.

Fire continued to crackle in our silence, few sparks floated upward to now darkened sky before sputtering out in the moonlight.

“Why don’t you want to talk about Georgia?”

I sighed. “Great country of Russia decided not to recognize Georgia’s independence. Past global politics caused situation, but that is longer story.” I could feel grip grow tighter around arm. “So there was battle. I was not on frontline, and thankfully only saw enemy once, but after five days of battle there was much destroyed. Lives ruined. It is easier to write off if one sees pictures. Walking through rubble is much different.”

“So you left?”

“Da, sold what I did not need, bought what I did need. Followed after Nestor into Serbia. Trying to live and forget outside world.”

“You don’t miss it? Any of it?”

“Small things, but not many. What about you? What do you miss?”

“Well, my friends for one.” She fidgeted trying to find more comfortable spot on ground and against arm. “You could say we were all attached at the hip, doing a lot things together. The closeness of home, and things like that.”

“You will be home soon enough. We have made it very far. We will find your friend and you will go home. I made such promise.”

“Thank you,” I could feel her smile as head rested on shoulder. Fire continued to glow. Flames scorching away wood. That is where we stayed as darkness encroached and night sky brightened overhead. Slowly eating beans as fire died away. “Um, Arkady?”

“Yes?”

“What do you want to be in life?”

This was cause for pause, in attempt to think of logical answer. “I do not know.”


* * *


“…And so, the Snegurochka’s mother, feeling pity on her, gives her the ability to love. So the Snegurochka visits the Shepherd Lel, with her new found knowledge of love.” Mother adjusts hair out of face, sitting on chair in-between sister and self’s bed. Both of us eagerly awaiting to hear story end. Mother’s brown hair has lost most of normal shine, while bags hang under brown eyes like bruises. Smile on face still holds hope. She takes breath while turning page.

“She meets with Lel in the field while he tends to his sheep. She ran to him, happy to see him, happy to finally to love him. She embraced him, proclaiming her love for him.”

“They were both happy in each other’s arms, laughing and excited about the future with each other. Forever to be with each other.”

“At least that is what they hoped. The Snegurochka had never experienced this feeling before. Love. It was the warmest feeling in body. She was warmer than she had ever been in her whole life, which is what she realized when she started to melt in her lover’s arm.”

“As Lel looked in hopelessness as his lover disappearing between his fingers, she gave him one last smile. She loved him to the end.” She closed book gently. “How was that?”

“I liked it,” sister speaks from her bed.

“I thought it was stupid,” was self’s response.

“You only think it is stupid because you don’t understand love,” Nada was quick to retort.

“No, because it is stupid.”

“Well, I for one thought it was cute,” Mother stated, getting up from chair and putting it back near desk.

“That is because you are a girl and girls like that love stuff.”

“A fair observation Arkady, but you must learn to like that stuff to get your own girl one day.”

“Ew, girls are gross.”

“Hey!” Nada shot at self. “Not as gross as you!”

“You smell.”

“So do you!”

“Children,” Mother’s voice calmingly sang, quieting us both. “It is bedtime, so that means no arguing and yelling about who smells worse. Because answer is both of you.” We all had laugh, ending discussion. “Now sleep well both of you.”

“Yes, Mother.” Nada and self answer in unison. She turns off lamp on table in-between beds. She kisses Nada first, “Sleep well, little one.”

“Of course, mom.”

She walks over to self, “One day Arkady, you’ll understand.” Mother leans over and kisses forehead. “But till then, I need you to do one thing.”

        “What is it, mother?”

“Could you be a dear and wake up?”

                Statement caught self off guard. “What?”
                
“Arkady, wake up please!”

                I felt body being shook as I awoke. Rarity had hand on shoulder, gently shaking. Senses were slowly remembering situation. We had left Edmonton by rail, now on fourth leg of journey by rail. The click-clack of train helped regaining of conscience. Taking deep breath, I addressed situation of still being shook.
                
“I am awake now.” I said in calmest tone, keeping eyes closed. “You can stop with shaking.”

                “Oh! Sorry,” she lifted hand off shoulder and, from sound of voice, moved back to seat. “I was just making sure, you were mumbling in your sleep again.”

                “It is okay,” I sat up in seat, stretching, and opening eyes. The small cabin we occupied was two benches with luggage racks above that, much more luxurious than tents. “Why am I awake though?”

                “We’re arriving into the station soon, I thought you would like to be awake for when we arrived.”
        
        “How long?”
        
        She shrugged, “Maybe 30 minutes or so?”
        
        I waved her off, “Plenty of time.” I slouched back into bench seat, closing eyes again. “Anything else?” I opened one eye to catch glance at Rarity.
        
        Rarity leaned back into seat, seemed to be thinking of what she wished to say. She paused with a half word formed, but thought better of it and let it go. “No, nothing more.”
                
“Wonderful,” I closed opened eye and found comfortable spot. “Wake me when you need me.”
            
> Wonderful Life
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Walking into grand atrium, floors were polished and everything shine brightly by sunlight leaking through many windows. Few maple leaf flags hung from walls. Ticket kiosks were along one side of wall. Huge board showed departure and arrival times for train. Thankfully, we were not there to enjoy architecture.

Exit left us on large open street and to the cold. Snow unfortunately continued to follow, leaving blanket of white on nearly everything. How I hate such sight.  But finally being off of train and on feet again was like being at home. It was normal feeling. Not that I liked it, but walking felt better than sitting on train for long period of time.

Streets were not as crowded as expected. Midday rush was not rush, but civil crowd. People were bundled up like selves, thick parkas and boots, trying to keep cold air from slashing at face. Rarity followed close as we walked down street. It was cold and coffee was greatly needed.

Few blocks walk was destination, chain coffee shop of the west famously known as Starbucks. I was not in mood for being picky about coffee. And getting out of cold would be for best.

Entering shop was blast of warmth hitting face, as did stares from people in café. Ragged look of self and less-than-perfect Rarity walking in at same time was reason enough to stare. Approaching counter, attendant behind it assault self with barrage of words, origin unknown. The language eluded self for few moments till I remembered we were French Canada. They were speaking frog. Rarity, seeing self struggle in simple hello response, stepped in. Offering her own barrage of frog words at the attendant.

“You speak French now?” I raised eyebrow at her. I hid question in Russian from attendant, hoping to spare some embarrassment.

“Um, yes I do.” She replied in smugness. “Now what do you want?”

“Whatever passes for regular coffee here.” She spoke to attendant, he nodded and rung up amount. I scoffed at steep price for coffee but paid. “When did you learn to speak French?”

“I thought I would do something useful with my time on the train instead of sleeping.” Again with smug smile. I did not mid smugness, as smile was warm and kind.

“You learned to speak French while we were on train. That’s is barely week to be fluent. That is-.”

“Incredible? I know. Also I learned Russian in barely a few days, so how is this any different?”

I waved her off, “Word of choice was going to be magical, but incredible works in its place. But it does not matter.” Attendant handed coffee over to us and we took seat in far corner. Packs were shed with great relief to back. “It is just good you speak French, or we would be bit lost.”

She leaned back in chair, taking off gloves, grasping tightly her warm drink. Her hat came off too, some purple strands starting to shine though remaining black dye. “Is that a thank you, I hear?”

“Closest you are going to receive.”

“Then you’re quite welcome.” She hummed taking a sip of her drink. “Oh how humble you’ve become, Arkady.”

“And how you are still a pain in my ass,” I chuckled.

“Yet, you’re still stubborn as the day we met.”

“Some things never change,” I gave salute with cup before taking sip.

“For better or for worse.” Silence followed, as I did not have quick retort. I let body relax, leaning back in chair, taking slow sips of the black drink. It was much smoother than self’s brew, took bit getting used to.

Opening cargo pocket on pants, map was pulled out. It took few moments to find location, but after that quick calculation for remaining distance to New York. “We are almost there. Maybe six hundred kilometers. At least week walking.” She gave glare at notion of walking more. Look brought chuckle out. “Maybe few hours with car. Maybe day with train.” Glare turned less deadly at mention of other means of transportation. “So that is one vote for not walking.”

“It’s the only vote that matters. It’s a majority.”

“Fifty percent is not majority.”

“It is when it’s my vote.”

“Maybe you did not hear,” I leaned in to help carry words better. “We are in west now, your vote matters little.”

“Are you suggesting we walk the six hundred kilometers?” She adjusted sitting position so she too leaned in closer.

“It builds character, da.”

“So the week we spent walking before we took the train was not enough for you?”

“There is never enough character building.”

“You are a character, dear. I don’t think there is anymore we can build on it.”

“Is that compliment I hear?”

“Closest you’re going to receive, yes.”

“Then thank you.” It took only second to realize closeness, mere centimeters away. And casual glance around, few customers were doing best not draw attention with their stares at couple wildly speaking Russian. Slowly, I leaned back in chair, defusing situation. “Okay, we can take remaining hours of today and next day for rest. Following day, we take train. Does this please Anastasia?”

She followed in action of returning to calm position in chair, “That would be an splendid idea. Maybe we could see a show or something. Why not have a proper dinner for once, because I don’t think I can deal with another can of beans or whatever you have left in that pack. Why don’t we sleep on something that could be considered a bed?”

I tried to raise retort, but notion of not sleeping on cold ground or on uncomfortable train took tight hold on brain. More thought put into idea, more I accepted it. Taking sip of coffee to help ponder only gave infectious idea proper time to acquire vocal chords for response. “A bed sounds good, actually. We do have large amount of Canadian currency to spend. Maybe nice bed, nice dinner, new set of clothes?”

Her smile grew tenfold at last word, “That we can agree on.” She took sip of coffee, glancing outside window.

Checking watch, we had plenty of time to check into hotel of choosing and pick of clothes. “If you wish, use your magic of language and ask attendant about hotels. Nice ones nearby would be best. From there we can drop off packs and go shopping. After such we can shower and sleep to whenever we feel like waking up in morning. Like always, I will pick up tab for expenses.”

She playfully rolled eyes at last comment before getting out of chair and walking towards attendant. I stared longer than should have at her curved form, way body seemed to float and sway with each step. From sly smile on her face, it was fair to say I was caught in action. Part of self did not care for being caught, maybe even glad for such sly smile. Other part wondered consequences.
 

* * *



                Maybe saying having large sum of Canadian currency remaining was not well thought out, as I had believed. Carrying numerous large bags, while Rarity hummed to self in front of self carrying nothing, continued to confirm notion.

                But it was barely twenty meters from elevator to room, so there was little time left to complain. After explaining how use card key to open door to Rarity, I was to relieve arm’s load in room.

                Room was lavish as compared to previous living arrangements of tent and ground and of train compartments. Two plush white, clean beds. TV sat on dresser in between beds on opposite wall, easy for in-bed watching experience. Small desk was in far corner by window, with phone and notepad. View overlooking city was not bad touch to our improvised home for next day.

                Coats we quick to come off, and it was small relief when boots were untied. Feeling self sink into bed was life draining. Trying to take off boots was chore. When chore was finished, I sighed in relief. Body only sunk lower into bed.

                “If I take I a shower,” out of corner of eye, Rarity was going through same actions. She stretched legs out, “Promise you won’t be dead asleep when I get out?”

                Leaning back into pillow, I let hand rest on chest, eyelids became heavy. “I cannot make such promise.”

                “And why is that?”

                “Because telling self to not fall asleep is like telling you not to drown in shower for over hour.” I chuckled more to self.

                “Then don’t snore too loud.”

                “Would you like me to tell you not to scrub too hard?” I opened eye and raised brow.

                She sighed, “Anything else?”

                “Once you are done and I am asleep, try not to wake self. Only if it is important.”

                “What would you classify as important?”

                “Use your own common sense.” I returned eyes to closed position. “It should be simple.”

                “If you say so,” with eyes closed I could only hear as she walked to shower. After closing door, it was only few moments before rhythmic sound of water falling. Only few moments after water’s sweet song begun, sleep was kind enough let me fall into it.

                “It’s been awhile, Arkady.” Mother Winter was walking along cobblestone path with self, there was light post every ten meters or so. Beyond path, it was just white nothingness. Mother’s long white dress trailed behind, gold trim highlighted cyan following hair.

                “That is has been. I am surprised that you did not check in much earlier. We are actually almost at destination, maybe less than day of travel. After much needed day of rest.”

                She hummed in agreement as we continued to walk. “And what are your plans during this day of rest?”

                I gave shrug, “I was planning to rest till midday. We may see show, have nice dinner.”

                She was quiet for sometime. Turning, I could see her with smile. “Is there an occasion or…?”

                “Bit of celebration. That and cash to spend. After long travels it would be best if we did something not so harsh on body.”

                “Oh,” Mother Winter laughed for second. “Sorry, that just sounds quite unlike you.”

                Raising eyebrow at remark, “Care to enlighten?”

                “Arkady not wanting something to strain his body. Quite unlike the Arkady I first met. A bit of an anger issue, but still you carry a kind demeanor. Living on the edge of life. Always on the lookout for a bit of danger.”

                “Danger seemed to find me,” I scoffed. “That is what mother used to say. Thought I got away from such. Part of self hoped this to be adventure to end it all.”

                “Then what will you do afterwards?”

                After many moments of thought, I could only shrug. “Try to lead normal life.”

                “Could you?” She stopped, giving self a questioning stare. “After everything you have experienced during this adventure. After the life you’ve lived? Could you really go living a normal life?”

                “Is it not worth trying?”

                “True,” She nodded, agreeing with answer to point. She paused, starting another thought. “I’ve noticed you’ve stopped pressing for answers.”

                “I started to be good Russian,” I laughed aloud. “Stopped asking too many questions. Go with flow.”

                “I see,” smile grew as she took few steps towards self. “Would you like to know where Rarity and I come from?”

                “It would not hurt to know.”

                “Then turn around and see. “I gave her strange look, she continued to gesture that I turn around.

                Words do not do justice to city that developed out of mist around self. Colors were bright and magnificent. Building seemed to be of résistance architecture, yet also looked like streets of Paris. White buildings with colorful roofs. It was like something I have never seen before. Yet, it was familiar and inviting.

                “Where am I?”

“This is my city of Canterlot,” Mother Winter explained from behind self. “The capital city of the land I rule, Equestria.” Self’s lack of answer made her continue. “Now, I have not been completely honest. Though Mother Winter has a nice ring to it, my name is Princess Celestia.”

“If you are a Princess,” I continued to gaze over city. “Where are the people you rule over? This city is deserted.”

“Well,” she laughed, walking up beside self. “They are not exactly people.”

Just when I had thought I had seen it all. Mother Winter, or now Princess Celestia, was not form I have grown to recognize. Hair was same following cyan, except now there were two origins of following hair. Voice was still same; mouth it flowed from was not. Dress was no longer there, now whole body was white.

And she was a horse.

With a horn.

And wings.

Out of all life, I yet to be more confused than this point. Having white horse, with horn and wings, talking next to self. “You are a horse. A talking horse,” was best words I could form. Not smartest words.

“And you are a talking hairless ape.”

I thought about this for moment before conceding. “That is valid point.”

She took deep breath, “This is what I hoped to avoid when we first met. I did not want to throw you into the deep end so quickly. Now that our journey is ending, I wish to be upfront about everything.”

Stepping away, I rubbed face, trying to help force in message. “This is all real. It has been real.”

“Everything around you is real. This is my world.”

“How have we been speaking then?”

“Magic has it ways.”

This continued to puzzle self, “So that is how Rarity got here? Magic? Why can’t you use it to get her back? This whole adventure could have been avoided.”

“She was never meant to go to your world,” She continued to walk to which I followed. “And without help of Twilight, there is not enough magic to get Rarity back to our world.”

“Okay,” nodding to help self agree with point. “Magic is real, this is all real.” I continued to look around, lack of anyone besides us continued to unnerve self. “But where is everyone?”

“Magic has its ways, if you want to see them.” She nodded, tip of her horn started to glow. Slowly figures started to fade into vision. More horses, but not as tall as Princess Celestia. Some had horns, some wings, some neither, but from what I could see not another one had horn and wings. Each was different color, going about lives. A world of multicolored horses, it was difficult to see.

“Can they not see me?”

“You are just a mere projection in my thoughts. So no.”

A couple passed right through self, continuing to laugh and talk. Going on with life, confirming I was never there. “And you can do that?”

“Technically, I’m not even out on the street, I’m still back in the castle.”

“And you can do all this?”

“As the most powerful being in this world, yes I can.”

“How?”

“Magic, Arkady.”

“You keep saying magic, why?”

She laughed, “It’s the best way to explain it. There is not enough time to explain everything: our history, our way of life, how we make due. I sent Twilight Sparkle to learn about yours, in sending her; Rarity fell through the rift after her. With not having an exact location, she landed in your land. And I can out of all the places to land, I am grateful you of all people found her.”

“Right time, right place,” I shrugged. “I have been known to be lucky in life.”

She smiled, bit of smug smile. “Maybe it was not so much luck.”

“What do you mean by that?” Raising eyebrow at comment. There was so much I wanted to know, so much I wanted explained. Having Princess Celestia take long way to explain things was not needed.

“It is probably nothing,” she waved self off.

I turned to her, trying to conceal growing frustration, “What do you mean?! There is so much of own world I do not know. Then you show second world, and not explaining fully does not help situation!”

The Princess took breath, buying time to formulate words, “I believe there is no such thing as luck, Arkady. You are either good at what you do, or something bigger at work.”

“I do not understand.”

“Nor do I, but that’s magic.”

I turned back to princess, trying to understand all that I have seen, all that I have done. So much in life has been pushed to side, thought to be luck. If not luck, it could be again timing of event or something of sorts.

Suddenly, thought like freight train hit self. Something I’ve overlooked during whole talk. Something so blatantly obvious, I feel like idiot for missing.

“This means Rarity is-,”

“Arkady?” Small nudge brought self back to normal world. No bright colors. No Princess Celestia. And certainly no talking horses. Only thing not normal was gentle prodding on side. “Arkady?” Voice sang gently to ears. I chose to ignore, hoping to drift off back to sleep and receive answers.

Until prodding stopped and hand on my neck made self reevaluate situation. Without opening eyes, I grabbed offending hand by wrist. Action was quick as was reaction. Had I not held on tight, Rarity may have achieved flight. After such, it was difficult not to laugh.

Finally opening eyes, I was met with face that was mix of frustration and embarrassment. Her still wet hair did best to hid expression. Releasing hand, I was hit once, then twice, and finally third time. Laughter did not cease.

“That’s not funny,” I continued to laugh as expression was priceless. “Not funny one bit.” She hit self again. “Stop laughing.”

“It is too funny. Now, what is so impo-,” finally actually looking at Rarity with more than casual glance. Out of all clothes bought, I would remember deep violet top and matching long bottoms. It let little to imagination, with thin straps and barely reaching mid-thigh. It was just loose enough to see   outline of body, not enough for details, and was perfect on highlighting her… eyes. Her crystal blue eyes did more than look at self; they looked into self. Just once, I would have like to know what they were saying without words; at least until connection between brain and rest of body was restored and I realized I was staring again. “-ortant that I needed waking?”

“You were sleeping?” She sat with legs folded under her on bed next to self. “I wasn’t sure, you weren’t snoring. I was just checking to make sure that you didn’t die.”

Sitting up in bed, I stretched, trying to keep gaze averted, “How was shower?”

“Splendid, actually.” There was shift in bed, glance over shoulder helped confirm Rarity found comfortable laying position. “I probably could’ve stayed in another hour, if I wanted. It just might help get the musky Russian smell off of you.” She laughed.

“I remember time when you said you shower could not change smell. Is this opinion still valid?”

“No,” she gave very stern look. “Go take a shower, you smell. Please. Do us both a favor.”

Throwing up both hands and getting off of bed, “Alright, I will do such.”

“Good,” she changed positions on bed, lying on stomach, head supported by hands. Her legs lazily kicking air. “Please don’t drown yourself in the shower. And don’t be too long.”

“Da, Commissar.” I gave her mock salute, which she lazily returned with a giggle, and I continued walk to shower.

Learning to turn on shower took few moments, but after such, I could have stayed in downpour of warmth till end of time. It had been too long since last shower. Sweet relief as water flowed over body: shoulders did not feel as tight, back not as sore. Dirt, sweat all flowed off of body. I do not know how long I stood there. Standing still, listening to water flow, letting water run, I could’ve let rest of self flow down drain. Let rest of body flow away in the water. Be taken away and be alone in thoughts. All that was seen in past hour was a lot. Another world, another way of life. So much to understand. So much I had yet to understand. Talking horses, talking magical horses. Water could only relax muscles, self's brain was different story. Brain moving trying to comprehend many things, things that it could not comprehend properly. Here was self trying to relax. Wash past hardships away with water. Wash the long journey away. Forget it all.

Could I forget it all?

Turning off shower, I hope I would not.

Drying off and slipping into new clothes, I returned to main room. Rarity was no longer lying on bed, but was sitting on edge of bed twirling bit of hair between fingers. Cart was off to side and in front of her. Two slender glasses and chilled bottle in bucket was sitting on cart. She smiled as I got closer, small amount of blush starting.

I looked at cart and then to her, “I do hope you did not answer door looking like that. You would have give poor boy heart attack.”

Rarity stood, laughing, unsure how to react and reply. “Um, No. But I hope you don’t mind that I got the champagne.”

“Nyet, not at all.” Pulling bottle out of its bucket to examine it, “What is it for?”

She shrugged, “I thought we could have a drink or two to celebrate. We did just travel across half the globe.”

“I thought that is what tomorrow is for, with dinner plans.”

“Well,” She approached, grabbing both glasses off cart. “Why not start early? Besides you already paid for the bottle.” Her sweet smile got better of self as I conceded.

“Okay,” I had small chuckle. With swift movement, cork flew out, and glasses filled with sparkling gold. Bottle was put back in place, glasses raised. “And what do we toast to?”

Rarity stood quiet for few seconds, before turning her blue crystal eyes into mine, “Life and the situations it puts us in.” She raised her glass a bit higher.

There I stood, with Rarity staring up at self, waiting for response. Barely meter and half away, she stood, confident in her evening attire. Her black/purple hair seeming to shine perfectly in light, like painted by skilled artist. Her skin looking so soft, while curves so elegantly wanting to draw self in. I raised glass too, in salute of artist who was able to create such work, and thankful to be able to enjoy such masterpiece. Blue crystals continued to peruse answer from self as I continued to search for words that would be close enough to describe situation. I gave smile as words slowly arrived.

“To this wonderful life.” Glasses tinking together punctuated sentence. “Now and forever more.”

> Shine On
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

                The cold attacked self’s face. I was thankful it was just wind, not snow and wind. Using free hand, I rubbed face. Natural bushy grit from beard was gone, replaced with finer, smoother grit. At request, beard had been trimmed. A very threatening request, but it was request of Rarity. It was supposed to be special night. I had to help make it such, even if it was at cost of small amount of manliness and face being cold. Small cost.

                Another thankful thing was bundle of warmth clinging to side. Rarity’s arm was through own, huddling close to body. Her thick coat hid body and hair was in bun nestled under  cap. Few strands of hair drifted over flushed red face. Flushed red from cold or from closeness, I did not know. But smile helped narrow down answer.

                “I look ridiculous,” I spoke, breaking silent walk.

                She only laughed lightly, “Don’t. Long, thick coats are quite normal. And I think you look good in a nice suit. It helps you blend in and not look so brutish.”

                “I like the brutish. That is my look.”

                “I know, you had the mountain man look down to its finer points. Surprising, actually, for it to even have finer points.”

                “That is true.” We continued to walk for few minutes in silence. Walking with little purpose, unlike many times walking through woods, trekking through snow. Now there was little weight on shoulders. Temperatures were cold, but unnatural warmness kept legs moving. But unlike many times in trek, we were close to destination.

                Opening door to restaurant was met with blast of warmth and welcoming smell of food, which only aided in quickness of entering and closing door behind self. Coats were taken from us in exchange of ticket. Self’s black suit and silver tie matched Rarity’s top. She wore black pants, saying it was too cold for dress. It was all her suggestion; I was merely vessel for purchasing items and wearing them.

                The person behind the table asked question in flurry of French, which Rarity responded to in turn. The only words understood were self’s last name. He looked at self strange, before shrugging. He picked up menus, spoke more French, then walked away. Rarity followed, suggesting I follow as well.

                Leading us through few tables and small groups that were there, we finally arrived at table. It was bit secluded from others, candle lit, and bit darker than I would have wanted, but it was not such time to argue about such small matters. Hearing of cliché romantic situations is one thing, living it is another. Sitting down, more French was quickly exchanged between waiter and Rarity. He nodded, scurrying off quickly.

                “You will need to fill me in on last bit of conversation.” Using natural Russian to hear mother-language. “My French is lacking.”

                “Oh, well first he welcomed us. I said we have a reservation for two under Sakharov. Then when we got to the table, he said our waiter would be along shortly. I thanked him, and with that, he left.”

                “Thank you for translating.” Looking down at variety of utensils in front of self, I realized I was more out of comfort than ever before. “Then translate all this for me please,” motioning to utensils.

                “Oh, the top one is your dessert fork,” she started to point out. “The furthest right fork is your salad or appetizer fork. The next fork is for the main course. Easy to spot is your knife and spoon on your left.”

                “Does it really matter which fork I use to eat?”

                “If you wish to avoid more strange looks,” her smug grin growing. “I suggest you at least try to adhere to the unspoken rules.”

                “Unspoken rules of eating?”

                “More like unspoken rules of class and culture.” She leaned in bit, “It’s easy to tell if you are unclassed and uncultured if you are choosing the wrong fork.”

                I leaned in as well, “You have been calling self brutish and uncultured, what makes this different?”

                “Because I asked you to do this for me. So try.”

                Arrival of waiter interrupted my response, and his French was just as quick as rest of people. Rarity answered before turning to self. “He asked us what we would like to drink. Would of a bottle of red wine be okay with you?

                “Da, that would be fine.” Rarity took the wine list and spoke more French, pointing at something on list. “Nothing too expensive,” I said quickly, to which she merely rolled eyes. After more French, our waiter left. “I hope I do not see more dust on bottle than what was on self’s books.”

                “Oh, don’t be like that,” She waved self off. “Live a little. It’s your first fancy dinner as well as our first decent meal since forever.” She paused, thinking for moment. “I think this may be the first time you or I have had something that could be considered actual food.”

                “I ate and cooked “real” food,” I shrugged. “You ate food provided. It got us this far, nyet? I consider that food.”

                “Well,” Rarity raised eyebrow. “Do you consider the thing we ate from that can… what was it again?”

                “Spam.”

                “Yes, Spam.” She paused again, as if trying to shut out thought of it. “That dreadful scientific experiment in a can. Would you consider that food?”

                “Under our circumstances?” I chuckled, “Da. Not under our circumstances, Da. It provided what was needed and could be considered tasty.”

                “I hardly consider the mold that grow in my old tea cup, food.”

                “What is strange to some, is normal for others.” I let thought drift for moment as waiter arrived with wine bottle and two glasses, then left without word. Small toast was made after wine was poured. It was not as glamorous of toast as night before. Just to night of fun and good food.

Drifting thought continued to pester and annoy as the red berry drink sloshed around mouth and loosened tongue a bit. “What is human to some, pony to others?”

                Had I known that, despite best efforts to contain reaction, Rarity’s drink would come back out of way it came in. I would have gladly paid for second bottle, though she was quick to recover.

                “Come again? What did you say?”

                “I am sure you heard correctly.” Another pause, trying to find correct words to approach situation. “You could have said something earlier. Not leaving self to find out on eve of your departure.”

                “I didn’t think it was too important at the time to mention it.”

                “I understood the part about being from another world. That was explained earlier. But part about being a horse was not something to mention?”

                “There were more pressing matters at the time. I didn’t think it was the appropriate time. Hello, I’m Rarity. Thanks for saving me. Oh, by the way I’m also from another world and I’m not human but actually a tiny horse.”

                “But was there not other time to mention it? Could you not trust me with such information?”

                “Let me be clear, it was not a trust issue.” She waved hand around in air, trying to pull words together. “I did not think you would believe me.”

                “I have been having hallucinations in sleep for past few months now. I have believed you were from other world. We can take being horse as something else to add to list.”

                “Arkady,” Rarity took deep breath trying to keep from being too frustrated. “There is a time a place for everything.”

                “And you could not find time and place to tell self?”

                “No… well… yes,” she sighed. “But the time and a place is not here and not now. Can I just say that?”

                I paused, taking breath in hope that such would clear mind. I wanted to be mad, even if only small amount, but she had point. “Da, you are right. I am sorry.” Taking sip of wine, letting wine produce thoughts. “It is eve of departure. I should have not pressed issue. I apologize.”

                Another sigh from Rarity. “It’s okay.”

                I knew it was not. Maybe I should have pressed other issues, such as meeting friend, Twilight. Or what may happen after. But I remained quiet on such issues. Also remaining quiet most of night. Listening to stories of another life, laughing when appropriate. It felt foreign, distant. It was small gift when meal finally arrived, talking subsided. Even after food finished, small talk was kept to minimum. For better or for worse. Maybe something more should have been said. Gazing into her eyes, gazing into eternity, I knew I should have said more.

                But I did not.

                I remained quiet, even after we walked arm in arm out of restaurant. Even has her warmth helped self put one foot in front of other. Even has her few sighs and half said words. Even as she wanted to say something more than that. Even as self replied in one words. Even as the thoughts inside head wanted to scream out and express such compromising thoughts. Even as her grip grew tight and I seemed to grow more distant.

                I remained silent.

                In my silence, I sealed thoughts away.

                Even as I drifted as off to sleep in hotel with her barely few meters away, my silence continued. Even as I waited for sleep to take me, awaken, and begin final long day. The last long day in string of long days that have not ceased since I found her in snow covered in dead man’s blood. Where I voiced concern, voiced reason, voiced plans.

                But now voice is silent.

                And sleep kept my silence.
 

* * *


 

“Rarity, you need to do the talking.” I spoke, as our position in line grew closer to booth.

“Why?” She asked with strange look on face. “You speak English well enough. You can do the talking.”

“Nyet, I cannot.”

“And why is that?”

“My accent may offend him.”

“Again, I ask the same question.”

“World history. We have not been on same page as Americans for long time. Just help out. We are on home stretch.”

She rolled eyes as we approached booth, with almost bit of annoyance, but smile returned as she greeted attendant. She hands him our passports.

“What’s your reason for coming to the US?” he questioned while going through our passports.

“We’re visiting an old friend in New York.” I feel his watchful gaze eye self’s passport and then back at self. Multiple times and Rarity caught gaze as well. “Sorry, I made him shave, I couldn’t stand the beard.” She laughed it off and the attendant shared chuckle.

“How long you two plan on visiting your friend?”

Another laugh, “Just a few days, we don’t wish to annoy her too much.”

The attendant shared another chuckle, even if to not make it awkward. He gazed at passports more time before stamping. “Enjoy your visit.” Smiling and giving silent half salute upon receiving passport we moved on past attendant.

“Was not difficult? You might make good actor.”

“You’re just saying that,” She rolled eyes again.

“Maybe,” we continued to walk, packs heavy on back. “Maybe.”


* * *


 

The white washed room had become second home: the table, two chairs, and pot of tea. One chair was occupied with familiar face, a familiar welcoming face. It was The Princess’ human form in which she now appeared to self. The same white dress and long flowing hair waving in nonexistent wind.

“I suppose this is the last time we will be speaking,” she rose from table, greeting self halfway, “for Rarity will soon be with us. Your mission is almost complete.” She gestured, and I followed by her side in walk. “You’ve done so much. You’ve traveled so far.”

“I did what any good person would have done in self’s situation.” Slowly shapes gathered around us, lampposts at first then outlines of buildings.

                “No, you did what you would’ve done. There were few people that could’ve done what you did. You traveled nearly all the way around your world. For someone who you barely knew.”

                I kept silence, not knowing what to say.

                “You protected Rarity through snow and hardships; from wildlife and criminals. Yet, you’ve asked for nothing in return.”

                It was difficult to suppress laugh, “It would happen, usually saving person from another world would be rewarded. I just did not want to bring it up. Besides, I think that reward would not be needed.”

                “Why? You’ve done all this, why not ask for a hero’s ransom in return?”

                Deep breath helped calm nerves, “Because a hero does not ask for ransom.”

                She hummed in thought, “So, not another world in your hands? To live and discover? A brand new world?”

                “Your world?”

                “Yes, my world. Where you can start a new life and start from scratch.”

                “You want me to come to your world.” Brain was set afire with new ideas, with prospect of a new life, but it did not seem right. “And I would be alone.”

                “You have Rarity, do you not?”

                “True, but I have many friends and family.”

                “And you can make new friends, friends that can become like family.”

                It was a lot to understand. “Would I be like you? A colorful, talking horse?”

                She paused, “Yes, like Rarity is human in your world. You would be like us in our world. A horse.”

                “So, I really would be starting from scratch. New world, new body, no body that I know.” I too paused, “What would family and friends think of self here?”

                “Like you never came back. You said your goodbyes and never returned.”

                “…Dead.”

                “Yes.”

                “A complete new slate.”

                “Yes.”

                That was especially a lot to understand. I would be dead. New world. New body. No prior contacts. Yet, I would be very much alive. Amount of things to believe, it was a lot. I do not know if faith could help understand more, or if trust alone would help determine answer. But alone, it was difficult decision.

                “No.”

                She was taken aback with answer, but regained composure quickly. “May I ask why?”

                “I am simple man,” was first response. “Your world seems too much for self; too mystical for this broken mountain-man. I have yet to understand half of own world, yet have traveled most of it. Now you ask to leave it and let it be undiscovered. It just does not seem right for a condemned man to leave a condemned world.”

                “You speak as though you are a prisoner, content with living with the rest of the prisoners, even after offered to be set free.”

                “No, I speak as a traveller being offered the opportunity to discover a new land across ocean blue. To be able to have all wealth it holds from distance, it is difficult to tell if there is grass or gold.”

                “There is too much unknown.”  Another hum of thought, “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you then?”

                “Watch over her,” was quick response. “Watch over her as I did. She is a gem who needs careful attention.” I thought for few moments. “For our sake.”

                “Are you sure there is nothing else I can do? I can provide riches; you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life. Provide luxury; you wouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything. Surely there must be something.”

                “Nothing,” I glanced at the buildings and their outlines. Trying to comprehend a different world within my touch. “I have survived off little most of life. I will manage with what I carry.” We walked in silence for time, gaze drifting to scene around us. “I suppose this concludes our business.”

                She stopped and I followed suite. “I suppose it does.”

                I extended hand towards her, “It has been a pleasure, Princess Celestia. Truly, it has. It was honor to do this for you. Thank you.”

                The Princess took hand, “It has been my pleasure and an honor to have met you. Your generosity has been a blessing. So no, thank you.” There was quick handshake and a smile. “Good luck, Arkady. We may be in touch.”

                “Till we meet again then.” I turned around started to walk the way I arrived from, till question arose. Turning, I kept walking backwards. “How will I know where to find Twilight?”

                A light chuckle emerged from The Princess. “Twilight will be waiting at the station for your arrival. Rarity will know her when she sees her.” She gave wave before wave of blinding light surrounded.
 

* * *


 

                I have imagined New York’s Grand Central Station since I was small boy; it was wish to walk through old Roman architecture. Seeing old movies from West in such place can only plant seed of desire. The marble and statues helped set gaze up and away, trying to feed such seed. Not looking ahead and very much in Rarity’s tow, she merely rolled eyes as childish smile grew on face. In grand atrium I stopped, looking towards ceiling and admiring what West has accomplished. In one of oldest cities, they have kept their building in beautiful condition, in such condition anyone could still look at it twenty years from now and little would change.

                And in admiration, I finally returned gaze to head level. Only to find that I was standing by self in middle of atrium. Crowds passed and the friendly head of purple was nowhere near. Panic was not immediate, but worry was easy to set in. Pulling straps on back tighter, I circled gaze again, trying to find Rarity. In crowd it was difficult to tell colors and I was very much alone.

                As if gift from above, cries of happiness helped direct self. Turning toward direction, there was Rarity spinning in hug with another female, about same height with dark velvet hair. In spinning it was difficult to tell, but it appeared that there was pink stripe in hair. They stopped spin and were talking, but from distance it was only lips moving.

                Approaching, words became a bit clearer, but it was greetings and pleasantries. Seeing my approach, they broke close embrace, but were still close. Easy to notice they were on verge of crying, but in happiness.

                The woman, who I assumed was this Twilight Sparkle, extended hand towards self.  She was few centimeters shorter than Rarity, not as curved, but slender. Her attire made her seem like schoolteacher or businessperson. “Arkady Sakharov,” she spoke with little accent, but was particular to pronounce name correctly. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard many things about you.”

                “Mrs. Sparkle,” I took her hand in light grip for fear of breaking delicate figure. “I have heard stories of you myself. For long time I thought you were just story.”

                “I can understand that, but um,” She paused, as if trying to find words to not offend. “It’s Ms. Sparkle. I’m not a Mrs.”

                “Well if you keep your nose in those books,” Rarity chimed in. Her tone and inflections in speech, it was easy to tell it was joke, “you won’t find anyone to make you a Mrs.”

                “The books keep me busy,” was Twilight’s response. It was clear that joke was overused, as was response. “Besides, Rarity, my goal is to study as much as I can. Speaking of which,” she dove into handbag, grabbing notepad and pencil. “May I ask you a few questions, Arkady?”

                “Twilight,” Rarity voice sung a bit, as if to hide annoyance. “You’re doing it again.”

                “It is fine, Rarity. What would you like to ask, Ms. Sparkle?”

                “Well, you’re Russian, are you not?”

                “Da.”

                “I just wanted to ask you about Russia. Like, how is it? I’ve been reading about the civil unrest and history of wars. How does that affect you as a person?”

                “There has not been a generation of family that has not served Motherland’s cause.” I paused, letting her scribble notes down. “We are not told to not question what cause is, but now we are starting to question a bit.”

                “But what about future generations, what about them?”

                “They decide their own fate, not I.”

                “Okaaay. Now, what about Russian Culture? How would you describe that, you said that you didn’t question the cause. So would that be a system of honor-“

                “Where the powerful use strength to keep weak in line. There may have been honor long time ago, but now I am not so sure. Now it is three C’s: Snow, vodka, and contradictions.”

                “But that’s only one-” I began to smile as she read over notes again. “Oh.” Both Rarity and I shared a laugh.

                “Oh, Twilight,” Rarity spoke through fits laughter, giving her friend tight embrace. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

                “Still your old bookworm.” Twilight’s voiced a bit strained from Rarity’s squeeze. “Hey, uh, Rarity?”

                “Yes, Twilight?”

                “May I breathe?”

                “Oh!” Rarity was quick to let her friend go, who took few deep breaths. “Sorry, it’s just really good to see you again.”

                “Me too. I’m just happy to see a friend for first time in so very long.”

                “I know,” Rarity’s smile seemed over pronounced, but natural. “Also, how much longer are you here for?”

                “At least a few more months, I could spend a lifetime here and not learn or understand everything.”

                “Well, I’m sure the rest of the girls can’t wait to see you.”

                “As much I like standing in train station reconnecting,” I interjected, breaking friendly conversation. “May we leave?”

                “Oh!” Shock at remembering I was still present shone in Twilight’s face. “Oh, yes of course. I apologize. Would you like to stop and get dinner? So we can talk some more? I would really like to get some notes about the two of you.”

                “Come again?” If I was not quick to notice small blush quickly leave Rarity’s face, I would have assumed she did not hear her.”

                “…About your trip?”

                “Oh, yes of course.” Rarity was quick to laugh off question. “A good reflection over good food would be nice.”

                “Da,” I nodded in agreement, adjusting pack on back. “Food is good.”

                “Excellent,” Twilight leaped in excitement. “I know the perfect little bistro that’s not too far.”

                “Good,” I chuckled lightly. “I have had enough of walking.”

                “Agreed,” was Rarity’s quick response.

                Following closely behind Twilight as we navigated crowd, we exited station onto city block. It was surprising to see amount of people still on streets. Even in cold, large movement of people surprised self. It was one thing to see it in movie, but another to be part of it. Made self think of Moscow, but with less modern, less ads, and less Trabbies. But people were still moving about daily lives, through cold and other hardships. Maybe we were not as different as grandfather thought us to be. Between car horns and mumble of crowd, I caught giggle from Twilight, who was looking at both Rarity and I. Looking at Rarity, I could understand laugh. She and I were both at awe at surroundings. Gazing at little details that normal person may overlook: number on taxi, what fingernail polish color model was wearing in ad, passing comments from street vendor about war. In vastness of information hitting senses, it was wonder people did not go crazy.

                New York, it was epitome of west. What generations of family had fought against. What I was told to subliminally hate. To hate how they exploited common man, how they would sell first born for fame.

                Walking among crowd, if murmur had been Russian, I could close eyes and imagine Tver. Imagine being back home and among own people. Maybe at core we are not so different: People struggling through days with overbearing government above.

                People, idea made self glance to companions. Both of them not of this world and not of our species. Different. Yet, they walk amongst crowd like normal person.  They interacted like normal person would. If it were not for wild hair color, it would be easy to suspect them for normal people. In end, we all may be not so different.

                Bistro opened up world of new smells as door opened. Menu was not difficult to navigate in English, though help was needed identifying ingredients listed for item. Women chose bowl of rabbit food, while I had biggest sandwich on menu. It was not as big as expected, but it was still food. Though bistro’s version of Russian Rye bread was close to expectations.

                Eating mostly in silence, the two women spoke openly about time apart. Though subject was mostly about Twilight’s studies at local university. It surprised self how she was able to take so many classes and over many broad subjects: studies over Classical eras, many musical theories, astronomical studies for example. For someone taking such heavy courses, it was surprising how happy she was. Smile told one story, while dark spots under eyes told another.

                “So Arkady, Rarity,” conversation topic shifted onto self. Twilight already had pen and paper out at ready. “How did the two of you first meet?”

                “I was lost,” Rarity chimed in first. “With it being so cold, I didn’t know what to do. Luckily, Arkady found me and provided shelter for me.”

                I rolled eyes at blatant lie. “Da, I had stumbled upon her for reasons unknown, but few thugs had found her first though. Were going to sell her to highest bidder. Used back of hand to put few bruises on Rarity. They will not be doing business again.”

                “What happened to the thugs?” Twilight looked up from notes, intrigued.

                “They were convinced to stop their ways,” Rarity chimed in again.

                “I shot and killed three armed men.” I thought for moments, not truly thinking of consequences. “Best outcome is if snow has created own grave for them.”

Rarity took self’s shoulder and leaned in, Russian words singing quietly into ear. “I was trying to make you look better. Not like some barbarian.”

                “There is no point in lying to her. She is your friend.”

                She sighed, pulling away from ear.

                Pen slowed, it was easy to tell she was thinking of next question, but she did look self in eyes. Look of innocence in those crystals. I could weep for such innocence. “Do you regret it? Killing them, I mean.”

                This caused moment of reflection at scene in snow. Staring down sights at three men and on bruised Rarity in gully. Smell of gunpowder floated in senses. Looking into Iosif’s eyes in moment of death. “Da, I do. It is thing one cannot forget easily. I gave fair warning. They did not heed warning.”

                “You warned them?”

                “I told them to hand her over to me,” memories of hammer falling and sending bullet into each man’s chest seeped in. “They did not, then they put gun to her head…” I let thought trail off.

                “Oh…” Twilight thought for few moments, letting silence creep into conversation. It was easy to tell Rarity had difficulty looking her friend. “Anyway, how difficult was the trip to New York?”

                “I think I may never eat beans again,” Rarity smiled lightly, thankful of subject change.

                “Is that all you ate on your trip?” Twilight raised eyebrow at notion.

                “It is all I could get her to eat after taste of spam.” I laughed lightly. “You should have seen face.”

                “Bleh,” Rarity shook in disgust. “Don’t remind me, I’ll probably still have nightmares about it.”

                Twilight giggled to herself as she wrote notes.

                “You still ate it.”

                “You could’ve told me what it was first.”

                “I did. And you wanted to try.”

                “It was either that or beans.”

                “Yet, you still blame self.”

                “So,” Twilight interrupted argument, trying to hold off laughter. “I assumed you didn’t walk all the way from Russia?”

                “We’d still be walking, and I am also not good swimmer.” This brought laughter from everyone.

                “But,” Rarity started. “Arkady had an old friend-“

                “Nestor Kozlov.”

                “Yes,” Rarity smiled at remembrance. “He was a very kind man. Had a good sense of humor, unlike Arkady.” I was close to interrupting but could only smile, for she was right. “Mr. Kozlov was caring and he helped us get across the Pacific into Alaska. He provided transport, passports, and money to help us along further. It was sad to see him go, but I was glad to have met him.”

                I took deep breath, giving time to think of proper words to describe old friend. “He’s a good man, I helped him through tough situation, and he helped self through mine. Words do not do justice to such man as he.”

                Twilight merely hummed, letting us know she was still paying attention. “So, You got to Alaska. Then from there?”

                “An associate of Nestor’s”

                “Sergei was his name,” Rarity added.

                “Da, Sergei. The Drinking Pilot. Who declared many times when he was drinking, if he could hold onto blade of grass and not fall of face of Earth, he was not drunk.”  

                “He, like many of Arakdy’s friends,” Rarity continued to add.

                “I would not call them friends.”

                “People that Arkady knew, better?”

                “Da.”

                “Anyway, they were quite the characters, each having their own little weird quirks, but they were lively and interesting to be around.”

                “Such being said,” I interrupted. “Sergei flew us to Alaskan border, Skagway, actually. From there we walked to Prince Rupert. With weather and Rarity’s incessant complaints-“

                “Hey! I did not complain that much!”

                Continue as if without interruption, but now with smile. “We were able to make journey in weeks time.”

                Twilight chewed on pen for few seconds, “I assumed you didn’t walk from Prince Rupert.”

                “Oh my stars, no! We took the train.” Rarity was quick to exclaim. “That would’ve taken forever!”

                “Better part of year,” I corrected. “We would make better time in spring thaw, but would’ve drastically drained resources quicker. More prone to sickness and injuries.”

                “I see,” Twilight mumbled through scribbles. “And now you’re here. You’ve made one long, story telling trip.”

                Rarity and self were both quiet for few seconds contemplating past months spent together. Rarity was first to speak, “I believe so.”

                I remained quiet, finishing food, trying to fully grasp situation. And I could not. It was too vast to even touch, much less, grasp what has happened. I had saved creature from beyond my Earth, beyond self’s realm of thought. There was more out in space than we people on Earth. Yet, I have not faltered under such thought. I trusted all was true, to point, and took leap of faith for journey. I believed there were beings outside planet that existed as talking, magical colorful, horses. I wondered if I was crazy one.

                We exited bistro as sun was falling under horizon, following Twilight to her home. Another walk through crowd and through thought. The women talked idly about this or that. Small amount of getting to know what has happened to each other during time apart. And idly, I did not listen, but merely followed.

Her flat was bit of walk from bistro, up few flights of stairs, unlocking her door was like entering new world. Books and papers were scattered everywhere. Notes tacked to walls with different colored strings connected different notes across wall. Bags under eyes did not tell long enough story.

“My goodness, Twilight,” Rarity seemed shocked, but to point. We set packs down near door. “Is this what happens when Spike isn’t here to clean up after you?” The name Spike sounded like dog, and if dog could clean up after self, that would be one hell of dog. But I did not ask question.

“I was connecting some biology and history the other day and I forgot to clean up, but cleaning is definitely on my to-do list...” Twilight smiled bashfully. “…for tomorrow. She made way to fridge. “Would any of you like a glass of wine? I bought some the other day. I read that’s how people here celebrate things.”         

I chuckled a bit, “One of many ways, but da, I will have glass.”

“I as well, please.”

“Wonderful.” Twilight’s actions were bit slow for finding glasses. When trying to open bottle, I had to intervene for fear of Twilight letting go of bottle and having it fly across room. Bottle opened with pop and was quickly poured into glasses.

“Shall we do a toast? I’ve also read that people here do that too, in times of celebration,” Twilight was quick to express book knowledge, and made self smile. The naïve and innocence of her made heart hurt for such times. “You should toast to the occasion.”

“Yes,” Rarity’s agreement was quick, as she turned and smiled to self. “What do we toast to today, Arkady?”

Looking at glass and the swirling purple drink inside of it, I had to think about everything that got self here. From first rifle shot, carrying Rarity on back and nursing back to health, to lessons on culture and bear attack, to trip across ocean and time stuck in cabin, to flights and walks in Alaska, to our first real meal in long time, and to now raising glass to all things accomplished. It is difficult to sum up journey of lifetime in fewest words possible.

“In past months, I have made choices to change life. To save life, and to deliver life back home. I have fulfilled commitment that I would do again in heartbeat. But,” I lifted glass high, “this should be for friendships we keep, and the journeys we must still make.”

                “Cheers.”

                Glasses were touched and clink vibrated with clarity through quiet room. The wine was slowly drunk in silence. No one wished to speak more, but simply wished to enjoy each other’s company for time being. Silence continued to envelope room. Barely breathing and drinking made noise. Even when glasses were finished, no one said word.

                “I suppose party is over,” I finally admitted. “But no one wishes to say it.” The women merely nodded in agreement.

                “I’ll get things ready,” Twilight weakly said, moving out of kitchen. She started to clear books off floor and make open spot.

                Rarity turned to self slowly, but could not look up at face. “This is it then. I’ll be going back home.”

                “Da, I kept my promise. I made sure you got back to Twilight, safe.” It was difficult to look at her.

                “I just have one question,” Rarity raised head slightly, but failing to look at self’s face. “Will you come with me?”

                Eventually, I had to answer question. Even if I did not want to, yet I still had to answer. “I am sorry, but I cannot.”

                Rarity took deep breath in, stuttering few times. “Why… why not?”

                “Where you go, I cannot follow.” I said words, trying to believe them more than ever. “It was job to get you home and I have done such.”

                “I-I thought you wanted nothing to do with this world?” She looked more down, voice faltering. “You said that.” Voice was like whimper.

                “I did. But, I was given new look on life. As have you.” I took deep breath, trying to regain small amount of composure. “I want to see if I could do something about such.”

                She finally looked up, face red, eyes struggling to remain in contact with tears flowing. “But what if you’re wrong?”

                “I can try,” I was helpless staring into eyes, same puppy dog eyes that have plagued me for some time now. The same eyes that wished for change and wished for action. “One moment.” Breaking contact, I walked back to where packs were and grabbed hers. Handing over pack, she took it, but eyes returned to ground. “You earned it. You keep it.”

                “Y-you earned something too.” Her voice fluttered, but breath helped stabilize for few seconds. “I was never sure when to give it to you.” She reached for my hand, opening it and put small piece of cloth in it. Small handkerchief was white with three blue gems on it. “Just… just something small to remember me by. And…” She leaned up and planted peck on cheek. She paused few seconds with contact before breaking it, remaining centimeters away from face. “Promise… promise me this,” her voice singing softly into ear. “Don’t, just don’t drink me away.” She moved slowly away, keeping head bowed. Voice struggling to find words, but voice remained silent.



                Her voice struggled to say anything through soft sobs so she merely nodded.  Twilight lead her over to clean spot on floor. There she stood in midst of chaos of books. Standing tall with pack on back, somber smile on face. Her purple-black hair splayed over face, hiding red eyes. Her body shaking lightly in quiet sobs. Taking deep breath, she moved hair out of face.

                “Ready, Twilight.”

                Twilight merely nodded, before both women’s forehead started lighting up. It was merely small amount of light in room, slowly growing. There in middle of light stood Rarity. Trying to stand tall, looking self straight into eyes. Her eyes gleaming with tears, as she moved hair out of face one last time.

“Till we meet again, Arkady.”

Watching her slowly be encompassed in light was difficult sight to watch. Having spent months alone with, be close, relying on her for support, as she did with self. Every moment, every word, every regret start to play out in front of self. I stood strong, like good Russian I was. Never showing fear, never showing ounce of fear.

Never showing how truly wounded beast was.

“Goodbye, Rarity.”

It was all I could manage to say as she slowly disappeared before eyes in great ball of light. Gone completely. And all self could do was say goodbye. All that remained now was silence. An eerie soul harming silence that seemed to condemn self’s life to emptiness now.

Silence is all that was left.

“I will never see her again, will I?” It was open question that I did not expect answer. The answer I already knew.

“I…I don’t know,” Twilight’s voice for first time sounded unsure. “But, I don’t think so.
Silence continued as I stared at spot where Rarity once stood. Where light grew in such large intensity. Where light caused voice to disappear. Where light caused regret.

Silence.

“You can stay here for a while if you need to.” Twilight’s voice broke silence. Staring at circle that broke chaos of books, I had forgotten where self was. But silence was all that was there.

Hand was placed softly on shoulder, “Arkady?”

“I should go.” Making way to door, I put pack on back, its weight natural on shoulders. Quick jump to properly adjust pack’s straps and pack was one with back.

“Arkady, stop… please.” Twilight’s voice pleaded.

With sigh, I took hand off door handle and turned around. Presented to me was envelope, half smile was on Twilight’s face. Tears were wiped away a while ago, but streaks still remained, along with red in face. “Princess Celestia wanted you to have this.”

Taking envelope and opening it revealed small bit of currency, at least thousand US dollars. More searching uncovered small note.
 
Great Acts of Generosity Shall Always be Rewarded, Even if They Do Not Begin to Fully Pay Back Such Generosity.
-Princess Celestia
 
Note caused small smile and half chuckle. “Thank you,” was words softly spoken before turning back around to door. Door opened with little resistance, and I stood in doorway for some time.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

“No. Goodbye, Ms. Sparkle.”

“Good luck, Arkady Sahkarov.”

From there, I started walking. To where? I do not know. Just walked in silence. Amongst late night crowd who would ask not questions. Who would not stare in curiosity. Who would not care how I arrived or how I would leave such place.

Purgatory felt like right word for moment. I do not know where I was going. I had no goal. Goal before everything was survive. Goal few days ago was to make sure Rarity got home. Now goal was complete and there was nothing else left for self. I did say I was to change world, at least change something. I do not know where, but I had made promise. I had to keep it.

Feet that had carried self halfway across planet now carried self to bar. Out of all places it could carry self, it seemed it was appropriate. Door opened to stereotypical American bar: alcohol ads in neon lights, women barely covered by clothes in alcohol ads, and tobacco ads of similar variety. And small crowd would help self blend in.

Quiet, vacant area at end of bar seemed appropriate. Setting pack at feet and finding spot on stool, it did not take long for bartender to approach.

“Hey there,” the man behind bar starts. His gray balding head speaks of age as his round center speaks of habits. “Where you blow in from?”

His cool nature brings half smile to face, “You would not believe self if I told you.”

“I’ve heard some far-fetched tales in my life. Hit me.”

“Russia.”

“The good ole Motherland, is that so, Ivan?” He chuckles.

“Arkady.”

“Bill,” He extends hand out to self, which I give healthy shake.

“It is small walk, nyet?”

We both laugh at comment. “That and a swim?”

“Da, that and swim.” I nod for few seconds.

“So, what’s brings you to the states, Arkady? Come trying to overthrow capitalism?”

I chuckled lightly to self, shaking head. “Not today.” Taking deep breath, I hope to approach situation with right words. “Had to make sure friend got home safe.”

“All the way from Russia?”

“Da…Da…”

The lull in conversation is loud, Bill does quick sweep of bar with eyes, “Can you hold for a second? ‘Cause I’d like to hear this story.”

“Da,” I nod.

Bill swiftly moves to other end of bar where man had just sat down. Way man and Bill talk is like old friends. Smile and laugh ever few words. But look of man make him look older than the graying on other side of bar top. With cheeks sunk in, ghostly thousand yard stare. I wondered for moment if had held such look long time ago. From distance, it is easy to see necklace of identity tags and close haircut identifying a military member. Clothes seem to hang on him. Conversation is short, and man walks away with beer and shot of something.

“Sorry about that,” Bill apologizes when he returns. “So, what can I get you to start off this story?”

“Water is fine.”

“Water?”

“Da, water.”

Bill seems surprised by requested, but shrugs. “I suppose there’s a first for everything. A Russian not asking for vodka is a first for me.” He quickly produces glass of water and sets it in front of me.

“Da,” I took glass in hand and let cool liquid slid down. Setting glass back down, I let out sigh. “It is only because I just wish to remember story.”


> Broken Hearts and Torn Up Letters
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The man crossed the street, a truck slowing to let him pass. He gave a thanking wave as he crossed, continuing over to the other side. He made a passing greeting to a woman on the sidewalk before he continued walking towards the diner on corner.

The door jingled as he entered, and the middle aged woman behind the counter smiled warmly, which the man returned. He took off his coat as he sat down at counter, placing it on the seat next to him.

“Mornin’ Jim.” The woman greeted, setting a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Good Mornin’ Alice. How’s the pot this mornin’?”

“Bit strong. Just strong enough kick you inna rear, but weak enough to keep ya socks on.”

“Sounds like a good pot to me.” Jim took a drink of his coffee straight black, humming in satisfaction as he set it down. “You’d be right with that kick, just right in my books.”

“Glad to hear it. Now what can I getcha this mornin’?”

Jim took another sip of his coffee, lost in thought for a moment. “Well, how’s the chef feelin?”

Alice turned to the gateway to the kitchen. “Hey Randy!””

A balding head stuck his head through the portal, “What, Alice? Oh, hey Jim! How’s the family?”

“They’re doin good. Carolyn is excited about startin’ her horseback riding lessons after school. James can’t wait to get back on the hockey team after breaking his arm last season, and Amanda is just happy the kids are in school again.”

“Ain’t that the truth, so what can I do for you?”

“What’s the grill liking this morning?”

“Ham slices, eggs,” Randy shrugged. “The pig mostly. For some reason it’s not likin’ the cow. Hotcakes are turnin’ out nicely.”

“Right, how about slice of ham, some bacon, an egg, and a hotcake.”

The chef snapped his fingers, pointed towards Jim. “You got it, boss.” His head disappeared from behind the portal.

Jim continued sipping on his coffee, his eyes drifting to the newspaper under his coat. Curiosity got the better of him as his slid it out from under his coat.  The bolded font headlines at the top of the page were old news; the economic situations weren’t new to anyone. Flipping the page, the below-the-fold-headline made him sigh.

Search for Local Volunteer Called Off. 

The article wasn’t too long. Just a small overview of the situation: a man, who had made a name of himself volunteering or being at the right place at the right time, had gone missing. Joshua Sakharov had moved into the area little over a year ago. The owner of the property he was staying at went to check in with him to ask for a bit of help, but he was nowhere to be found. The owner found an incomplete letter and went with it to the police. After weeks of searching and still finding no body, the search was called off. It was speculated that he committed suicide, but the lack of a body didn’t support the theory. The second theory was that the animals had gotten to him, but lack of remains and eyewitness testimonies of his extensive wilderness expertise further disproved that theory. An over the top rumor was that there was a mob intervention, though it was more of a joke than anything. The last rumor was aliens, but no one was crazy enough to believe it.

“Shame about him,” Alice said, looking down at newspaper. “He was kind fellow. Came in a few times for a cup of coffee, nothin’ more. Didn’t talk too much either.” She sighed, refilling Jim’s coffee. “He had such a nice smile too.”

“Wasn’t he stayin’ on David’s property?”

“Yup he was. David said he even paid up front for the next few years. Volunteered to help around the land as part of his rent.”

“All of up front for the next few years?” Jim’s voice whispered in surprise. “Guy must’ve had a lotta money. Didn’t he wear rags?”

Alice just shrugged, “If he had the money, he sure lived humbly. Only thing I know he spent money on for sure was dry cleaning.”

“Dry cleanin’?”

She nodded, “You know Janice? The girl runnin’ the local laundromat? Well, she told me that he would come in about once every week and ask her to clean this handkerchief. Just a handkerchief, and that he would pay any price for it to be kept in clean, pristine condition. Janice barely charged him a dime. But still, all that just for a small handmade handkerchief.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, “Just a handkerchief? Ain’t that strange?”

“One oink and cluck, then the ground they walked on!” Randy’s head reemerged from the portal, and he stuck out plate of food. Alice took the plate, sliding it front of Jim. 

“You talking about that Joshua fellow?” Randy inquired. “Nice guy. Never saw him at the bar, though. Think I saw him there once to ask the bartender a question, but he left soon after. Though, I heard last huntin’ season the MacAvoy family wasn’t doin’ too well. He showed up at their door unannounced and not having heard of their situation. Had a twenty point cut, gutted, and skinned. He gave it all away, didn’t even keep the tail. I think he even mounted the horns for them the next day. Shame about what happen’d though.” The cook paused, thinking about it all for a few moments. “Anyway, enjoy the food!” He disappeared once again back into kitchen.

“Thanks Randy.” Jim started at his eggs before continuing. “Sounds like a hell of a guy. Wish I could’ve got to know him.”

“You and everyone else.” There was a lull in the conversation. “But don’tcha think that’s strange? A guy that’s got a lot of money, wears rags, only dry cleans a handkerchief, helps anyone who needs it, and suddenly drops off the face of the earth?”

Jim’s gaze drifted back down to the newspaper and to the picture accompanying the article. It was one of the probable few pictures of Joshua that existed, a blowup of a group picture. The main road needed clearing during the winter last year, and an all-volunteer group cleared it. Joshua stood off to the side of the group, a small half smile on his face shining pronounced through his beard. Although, his eyes made him seem vacant and melancholy.

“Just a bit strange,” Jim sipped his coffee quietly before flipping the page.  
> Far and Away
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Broken watch denotes time as 19:14 or 7:14, depends on how you look at watch. Only time I remember day is when I walk into town. Spring thaw has started. Second one since starting over again, would make it over year now. I do not know what has caused self to write now, but I write. Maybe if I were to write this and leave it somewhere, someone out in world would understand. Maybe I write to understand self.

Finishing line on paper, I look up to sun going down over horizon. After throwing log onto fire, the flames lick their food, growing large. Letting fire grow, I set up rabbit meat on skewer, letting flames cook. After seeing that it was good, I returned to paper and pen.

But it being spring now, only good thing is snow and cold is gone. Other things, like mosquitos, large predators coming out of hibernation, and mud make matters annoying.

Local town has been kind to me. Though I changed name, something easier for locals to pronounce. Joshua from Arkady. New life and new identity. Almost as if self had taken Rarity’s offer.

I was able to make deal with local to stay on small bit of property if I help with upkeep. Also part of deal was hunting for skins of animals on property. Some things do not change. Though, after few tries, I have become quite skilled with bow and arrow. It is easier for small animals, such as rabbits, to hit with arrow and to keep skin. Along with such deal, I have done small volunteer work and odd jobs in town.

A quick prod of fire stirs up flames licking meat of rabbit. Leaning back in chair. I overlook scene in front of self. View that let self see into valley below and surrounding area. Small shack behind self was barely roof over head with four walls. It was not home, but it was closest thing to such.

I still do not know why I write, maybe whoever may find note will make more sense of self’s life now then I. With more than year past since I left Motherland, I can only guess how people have reacted. Sister may fear for worse, but since we had little contact after I left for self-imposed exile in Serbia, maybe she thinks that I am okay. I can only hope so. Nestor would know better. He knows I would still live. Probably still with woman, if self was only lucky enough.

Grabbing rabbit skewer and inspecting it, I found it to be satisfactory to taste and took bite. Taste was like any other rabbit, bit of wild taste, but still good. Gave time to contemplate. As such meal did every evening. The setting sun provided curse and provided gift. Of which it is today, I do not know. It even appears to wink at self. Strange, but probably way trees are blocking sun.

Nestor should know. He probably has been keeping track of self since departing from Alaska. He is resourceful like such.

I should have returned to Russia. But, I returned to wildman routine here. It has saved me trouble of walking. But, maybe I should have changed, become bit civilized. It is what she would have wanted. But living in woods, living on nothing is what I do best. Surviving is what I do best. Like good Russian, I survive. It is all I know. Maybe it is because I thought I did not deserve such second chance. Such privilege would be better suited for another.

Living on edge of civilization has given self few distractions, for better or for worse. I am just plagued with one regret. I am just one regret. I regret my silence that has kept me in this purgatory, silence that has kept self in limbo. To whom it may concern: Do not take such words lightly. Say everything that you know for truth in your heart. It may or may not be right but you will live with little regret and without fear of words hanging heart in noose.

Say those words that other person wants to hear, especially if you mean such words. It is only now.

Snapping of twigs caused head to jolt up from page. Probably small predator that smelled rabbit, it is not first time of such occurrence, but none such predators have been heavy enough to snap twigs. I have not seen bear in area, but there can always be first. Throwing quiver of arrows over shoulder and picking up bow in off hand, how I wished for old rifle instead.

It was easy to not make noise on soft ground, easy to move with caution as well. Moving towards direction of noise, mind turned into that of hunter. Body went crouched, quietly nocking arrow onto bow’s track, and slightly building tension on string.

Pausing on ridge side, I listened closer to footsteps. Object’s steps were stumbling, unsure of ground, even falling at one point. Option of it being predator was marked out. After few minutes of silence, steps resumed, cautious, but resumed. It could be wounded prey finally becoming aware of surroundings. Maybe newborn, but if that were case, there would be other footfalls from parents. Wounded prey seemed more likely, as sound drew closer. Footfalls were not in triplet pattern, or even paired pattern, but in careful one step after another. It was strange behavior for animal.

Pulling bowstring fully as sounds were near twenty meters away, I stood, finally getting good look at creature. It struggled and stumbled as I lined sights, but it had to be dimming light playing tricks on self.

Wounded prey does not wear shiny objects, nor walk on two legs. Nor have one hand held tight to pair of shoes. Even in dimming light, I was able to pinpoint long purple flowing gown, stained with mud in areas, but rest sparkled in light. Even at distance, black necklace with small purple gem that hung on it, dangled over bosom. Black and silver bands that flowed through hair flowed through purple hair flashing in sun’s remaining rays. Purple hair.

“Nyet,” voice surprised self. It was loud and wavering. Hand shook as I tried to clear eyesight. “It… it cannot...”

Arrow was already back in quiver at sight. Few meter drop off ridge side did not slow self down. After nearly year and half away, full-fledged memories resurfaced.

As pace quickened, feeling of tightness in chest still burdened self. Mouth, once wet with anticipation of hunt, now dry with uneasiness. Even as distance grew short, I caught glimpse of shining blue eyes. Once filled with sadness and tears, now shone with nervousness, but turned to relief upon meeting self’s own surprised gaze.

Stopping few meters short, I could still not believe sight before eyes. I could see small smile emerging on her face. Tears slowly formed in her eyes.

“You…” mouth and brain had little time to reconnect.

“I… I came back,” she took breath to overcome stutter, hiding mouth in hands. “I came back.”

Dropping bow, I took what few steps remained between us and took her in arms. Picking her up, I held her in arms, not wanting to let go. Her warm tears streamed down her face onto self’s cheeks.

For first time in long while, I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Way she spoke mother tongue of Russian sent chills down spine. I had forgotten what Russian sounds like from other person.

“Your hair,” I managed to speak through fits of laughter. “It is purple.” Releasing her from tight grip in arms, setting her down gently. “How long did it take for hair to return to natural color?”

“Probably as long as it took for you to grow your beard back.” She laughed as well, smiling.

I took second glance over her attire, “You certainly dressed for occasion of visiting the hermit Arkady.”

“I decided to skip a party,” another smile of hers sent waves of memories over self.

“Fancy party?”

“Biggest party of the year in the entire country; where anybody, or pony, who has made a name for themselves goes. A magical night spent at the palace in Canterlot.”

“All for self?”

“For you,” buried head into chest, wrapping arms around self’s midsection, “some sacrifices are necessary.”

We stood in light embrace for time.

“How did you find self? I am off beaten trail in middle of nowhere. I have not spoken to Princess Celestia since few months after you left. How?” I asked question that was nagging in mind.

“You underestimate the power of how much you smell,” was muffled reply from chest, followed by deep breath. “And how much I missed it so.”

I looked down at her, giving strange look. “Am I speaking to same person?”

She pulled off of chest, lifting eyebrow, “Am I holding onto the same one?”

It was good question. I had returned to hunter of earlier times, like time of holding her in arms for first time. Beaten and scarred. Being protector and caregiver. Then I met bear, and roles reversed. At least caregiver part did. I was too stubborn to let go of protector. Slowly, those crystal blue eyes changed self. Being close was no longer just for protection, but for fire on heart. It was in flash of light that fire was gone. Only in such moment did miss heat of fire, because it was only then that I remembered fire was there.

“No.”

“Then you have your answer.”

She back off body, taking self’s hands in her own. Silence started to form as she played with hands. Her soft, small hands seemed fragile in self’s calloused, dirty, and scarred hands. Her gaze seemed fixated on hands for time being, as mine was on her.

Finally looking up, there were same puppy dog eyes I have seen time and time before. Along with small smile, it pulled at heart

“How long will you continue to give self such look?”

Rarity was taken with surprise at question. Even embarrassed, as face was red. “W-what look?”

Taking her by hips, her soft form melted in hands. “It is one look that just should be changed.”

Pulling her in closer, she yelped in surprise, placing hands on chest, but they offered no resistance. I could feel her body shake slightly as faces neared. Her soft sweet lips were welcoming. Taking one hand off of hips, I lightly ran free hand through silken hair. I could hear slight moan of pleasure as she pressed forward, readjusting, then placing lips on self’s again.

She broke away, hesitantly. Her breath was slow to return, as was self’s. “Why,” she looked at self with bit of uncertainty, tears streamed down face. “ Why did you m-make me wait? There were days I longed for your touch, your blunt nature,” she took deep breath trying to calm nerves, but it was to ill avail. “Y-your awful smell at times. But, w-why now and not then?”

“I cannot answer that.” It was difficult to create proper answer to question. Even I did not know answer. “I had failed the night you left to give proper goodbye. I did not let you know you were oil to rifle, wood to fire. I seemed to work better with you. This is truth.” Looking into her eyes, more tears began to form. She even bit lip, trying to contain outburst. “To be honest, I did not think you would ever return. I just did not want to regret it second time. So here I stand now, I will have no regrets. Not today.”

She gasped, trying to form proper words, but it only came out as laughing sob. More tries, only more tears emerged. Reaching into pocket, I pulled out handkerchief. Rarity’s sob laughs increased as tears were wiped away.

“You’ve kept it.” She was finally able to say. She took it out of hand, gazing at it for moments. “And it’s clean.”

“It is one of few items that has remained so, surprisingly. I even went into town to have it professionally cleaned.” I let sentence drift in passing breeze. We stared at piece of cloth between each other. Blue gems on background of white. It seemed simple in design. In simplicity, it was elegant.

Again, she took self’s hand in own. Placing palms against own, self’s dwarfed Rarity’s. Watching her play with hands, tears on her face dried as color of face returned to normal. Determined nature and lost in thought gaze told tale of formation of something. Of what I do not know, but it would be addressed; I did not have to wait long.

“Arkady?” She sounded unsure, as if she was asking if self was still there 

“Da?”

“How… how would you like to go on one more adventure?” She looked into self’s eyes with curiosity and uncertainty. Smile did best to hide such look in eyes, but smile seemed to be on face to reassure. Reassure whom, it was difficult to know for sure. “For old times sake?”

I have spent time alone thinking. Thinking all this time. Thinking I may never see her, Rarity, ever again. Thinking about all the missed chances, thinking of all self’s missed chances. I have kicked self for all what-could-have-been. I have punched conscience for all what-should-have-been. I have curb stomped mind about what-would-have-been. Now holding cause of beating self into isolation, it was difficult to not contemplate question. But holding her, soft skin underneath dress was warm in hands, her crystal blue eyes piercing soul and warming heart once more. I did not notice tears at first until her hand wiped it away.

No regrets.
Not anymore.
Certainly not today.

“I have been lacking in adventure recently. Now that you are here, I can say it has always been adventure with you. So… why not?”

She was quick to wrap self up in embrace, giving quick kiss. It was returned with welcome. Passion was sustained until she broke kiss after few moments. It was bit of surprise until I looked down upon her smile, her joyous smile.

“Though,” She giggled at thought before continuing. “We may have to do something about your beard.”
> Author Notes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for hanging in for this wild ride. I hope you enjoyed it, I for one did. Personally, this has been (to date) my favorite story to write. Hands down. 

Bear (ha, bear) with me as i ramble and explain Heart of Winter. 
I apologize upfront for the massive amount of parenthesis's and brackets, and then the random comments in those parenthesis's and brackets.

This is the first story i've done where complete detailed outlines of the chapters. (i usually write the first things that come to mind and continue on from there). So that says something. 

The writing style (the spoken broken English) benefited how i write. I've been known to drop words completely, and writing how a Russian may speak English sometimes (a bad stereotype i may add, that no way reflects on every Russian) [YAY, political correctness] just seemed to compliment the (horrible) way i write.

Start with a bit of background for this story. The idea came to me after reading a fanfic from here (Through the Eyes of Another Pony Chapter 15: Flutterfall) and also reading Equations of Life by Simon Morden (along with the other books in the Samuil Petrovich series {great books, i may add}) [also the recent purchase of a mosin-nagant and love for vodka other finer things helped]. A Russian character had to be my next one. It was just inevitable.

It was the idea of making a character somewhat of a polar opposite from the pony i was going to throw into the mix (actually did start off as Flutters, but Rarity just fit more for what I was trying accomplish). I wanted to create a character that was believable. Who believed in better things, the honor/motherland idea, but skeptical. I wanted a harsh character at a moral impasse. So Arkady was born. He still held on to the honor and the ideals of old, but was tired of the perversion that these ideals as they were now. I wanted his character and Rarity's to be at odds. At any given moment. Rarity, the high maintence drama queen who's idea of camping is three star hotel. And then Arkady, who could probably make a bar of soap last six months. They just seemed like opposite sides of the spectrum. And i do believe it worked. (a bit better than other romances i have written up) and boy, it was a joy to write (the scene where Twilight is merely the observer in the bistro while the two bicker just flowed with ease). Also the fact of Arkady being generous, while Rarity herself is the element of generousity plays just a small role.

So, over the course of the story, the english (both how Arkady speaks and how the story is actually written) is supposed to get better. How Arkady becomes more civilized (or at least cultured) in a sense. Along with how Arkady's feelings of protector and of lover fluctuate, eventually ending on lover. (cause i'm some closest romantic who like the happy ending, while most Russian fairy tales do end very tragically. I mean really, the Snow Maiden tale? There's like four different versions and they all end, to the best of my knowledge, with the Snow Maiden dying.)

This is also the first time i used chapter titles (not just numbered) for a story. From chapter one to six (monday, fireside chats, acting lessons, still alive, Not one step back, thaw) the titles were themes. Usually a word that significant in the chapter or was a big part of the chapter itself. Not one step back and thaw were more theme based (the former being the start of the journey and the latter being the beginning of the romance between Rarity and Arkady [i.e the thawing of Arkady's heart]). The remaining chapters were titles to songs that had significant impact on the writing of that chapter or had a message that was significant in the lyrics itself. The Grey - Icon for Hire. Far From Home - Five Finger Death Punch. Wonderful Life - Alter Bridge. Shine On - Jet. Broken Hearts and Torn Up Letters (and the Story of a Lonely Girl) - Lostprophets. Far and Away- Slash Feat. Myles Kennedy. (The final chapter went through at three title changes, which include: Apologies, Glances, Messed Up Second Chances - Lostphrophets and My Heart - Paramore. Both songs delievered the message i was going for, just Far and Away seemed to do it the best). I do recommend looking up these songs (at least the lyrics) just to get an idea of the theme of each chapter is supposed to feel.

The Chapter Broken Hearts/Torn Up Letters was never intended. Just a wild idea that was posed as the first part to two part epilogue, i guess the "human" part of the story. (which doesn't quite make sense for the two could've been published together instead of split up, but just makes up for added story. Yes. Filler. Sue me) 

Tying the story into the OST arc took a bit of spontaneity (bit of writing genius, but only a small amount, minute amount even). And i have thought this one ahead that, i believe, not many people saw it coming (at least how it happened). [Just for clarification, timeline wise {also time is not made out of lines, it is made out of circles, that's why clocks are round} this story takes place before OST, touches base on the first chapter of OST, and finishes in the final-ish chapter of that story.] And it gets me all giddy (yes, giddy. Like a small child. I had a giggle many times) on the inside about all this. And finally hashing it all out, sitting back, and realizing i may have blew a few minds. 

I think that's one of the joys i get out of writing and that's the reader response. You guys. You people who read this story are the reasons i write and post stories. (i think it has something to do with ego, but i digress). Which is also why i love cliffhangers and leading you on with how the story went. (i hope you all are the understanding type.)

Big thanks to J_Xayph for working with my stubborn ass and editing this work and many of my other works, along with providing his opinion and ideas with me. He's a gentleman, a scholar, and he sure as hell gets the job done.

Anyways, i think i rambled on enough.
auf wiedersehen, do svidaniya, au revior, till the next sequel one

Doc