I am the last. Indisputably the last of my Clan, most probably the last of my kind. We’ve been here since the world was born. We watched the lower life forms evolve and die; we survived through cataclysm and ice age. In the end, all it took was the coming of you humans to bring our race to its knees.
My race has no name, we needed none. We just are. Were. Call us the First Ones, if you must label us, for we were here first; long before your ancestors crawled out of the primordial ooze.
I am older than you can imagine. I can remember when my race was pure, long before the ice age taught us about death and dying. We were a race of artisans, musicians, scientists–peaceful and peace loving. Our days and nights were filled with music and dancing and laughter.
We had reached our peak and begun a slow, inevitable slide into ennui when the ice age began and the lesser beasts began dying out. Our scientists thought, at first, that the cold was a temporary thing, as with the changing of the seasons, but then calculations proved we could not outlast the cold should it come to either building well stocked shelters against it or even hibernation. Relocating was pointless as well.
Many died before we found a way to adapt to the cold. It was a great transformation, and when it was done we were changed. No longer were we creatures of the light and warmth, instead we embraced the cold, thrived in it.
Our metabolism adapted to our needs–we had no need for your layers of clothing; warm or cold it was all the same to us. The earth underwent many changes and we grew and adapted to each change. Countless species evolved and grew extinct. We thought you humans would be more of the same. To our great sorry, you were not.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
She stood in the shadows of the trees, watching him. At least he thought it was a she, it was hard to tell. She was tall and thin and white and looked like a picture from the story book Joey got for his birthday.
When she realized he saw her, she made as if to leave, but Joey called out, “Wait. Don’t go.”
She stopped, but looked like she was ready to run any second.
Someone else might have mistaken her for Jack Frost, or maybe one of the frost fairies from the old movie Fantasia, the one his mother made him watch, but Joey knew who and what she was. This was one of Winter's children. There was no doubt in his mind.
He knew he should be afraid, Grandpa's stories had been clear on that, but she didn’t seem scary at all. In fact, she seemed kind of scared herself. She was kind of pretty really. She was wearing a short dress out of a shimmery white material, and her feet were bare. Her hair was short and spikey, like Jodi, his second favorite babysitter.
They stared at one another for a few minutes, then Joey said, “It’s okay. I know what you are. You’re one of Winter’s children, aren’t you?” He smiled and slowly she smiled back.
“Do you live around here?” He knew she probably didn’t, but he was trying to be polite. Mom was always telling him to mind his manners.
She cocked her head but didn’t answer. Maybe she didn’t understand what he was saying. There was a new kid in his kindergarten class who came from Japan and he didn’t always understand what people were saying because he didn’t speak English very good.
“My name’s Joey, what’s yours?” Maybe if he kept talking she’d understand.
Again, she didn’t answer, but she kept smiling. The more he talked, the more she seemed to relax.
“I think I’m lost,” Joey admitted. “Do you know how to get to my house?”
Still not speaking, she beckoned him to follow. Joey hesitated only a moment, then stepped forward to take her hand.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Missed an installment? Catch up here:
Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 Part 13, Part 14,
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