prologue

With each step, the snow seemed to grow higher and colder, and his boots seemed to grow heavier, but he pushed forward, leaning into the bitter wind. There was nothing else left for him to do. He had lost his coat many miles before, when he had lent it to Emily to warm her last moments; the little girl had looked so cozy in it that he could not bear to take it back from her. He had continued on alone with only his day clothes and a thin blanket over his shoulders that billowed behind him as he trudged on.
He was the last of his party. What had begun as a journey of several dozen families had come to an abrupt end in the harsh winter of the Rocky Mountains. They had been moving toward a warmer land, and it was there he was still striving toward, his hope rising and falling with every other step.
At first, the snow had only reached his ankles. Now he found snowdrifts that reached higher than his knees. Into these drifts he fell on occasion, each occasion becoming more difficult for him to stand again. He feared there would come a moment when he would simply stop, when his body would refuse to go farther, just as many of his peers and family members had experienced. He was not ready for that moment to arrive. He was not ready to give up.
For only a second, he paused and looked around. Motion was his savior at this time; if he walked, he would be warmer. But sometimes he felt a stop was merited, so long as he knew he would start again. Now he stopped to admire his surroundings, to appreciate the beauty in this harsh incarnation of nature that had ended the lives of so many... and, soon, himself. It was a matter of time, was all. Perhaps he should have remained next to the camp, to ensure his body would be found. Pride, however, had propelled him forward. He would get as far as he could manage.
He pulled the blanket around himself. Where had he gone wrong? Organizing the journey had been a mistake, and his management of it, allowing himself to run so far behind schedule, had been a greater one. He had led his family and many others into the clutches of death. All they had sought was a new place to make their homes, new opportunities, new beginnings, but instead they had found only ends, conclusions. They had found death when they had searched for life.
"Are you so certain that death is a conclusion?"
He raised his eyes. She was standing before him where previously there had been no one. A long, thin charcoal-colored gown clung to her slender body, but it was the shade of her wings that gave her away first. Excusing her lack of a halo, her appearance was that of an angel, except that her wings were a deep, fathomless black.
The sight of her, especially against the white snow, was so startling that the man found no words, and simply looked at her expectantly, knowing what her purpose here must be.
"Walk with me."
In her hands she carried an inconceivably thin rod, as clear as glass and as brilliant as crystal. She held it not as a staff, but wielded it, an unusual weapon at rest, yet ready to strike out at any moment. Her posture was the same - relaxed, but with just enough tension to belie a danger about them.
In silence, they crossed a few more miles, until the man was finally comfortable enough to speak.
"Why?"
A low chuckle escaped her lips. "That's not a question for me. I don't know the answer."
"What are you?"
She glanced at him, amused. "I am sent to guide you safely to your Judgment."
"Is it a dangerous journey?"
"It can be." She offered no further explanation.
He glanced around. Nothing seemed threatening, and she was clearly not affected by the cold. In fact, the cold was beginning to lose its bite against his own skin. Perhaps he was becoming numb, or... perhaps he had died.
"You've died." Her response to his thought was straightforward and without tact.
With a sigh, he looked at her. "What awaits me, beyond...?"
She did not answer, only continued to shepherd him across the snowy plain, flatter now than it had been, and sunnier, lit by a soft golden glow that his weary body and grieving heart found welcoming.

Author's Note

How strong are the various descriptions?

Reviews

[K. N. Wise]

Ahhhhh. Cheeky Jael. I think I might have read this bit before, but I'll give my two cents anyway. I felt a bit like you were trying to hard. I'd say keep it gritty but easy at the same time.