1

She brushed the few strands of hair from her forehead and breathed. Deeply. Just a few moons ago Yariel Dustborne had been tending the familial garden and protecting the cottage from the occasional rabid boar. It wasn't but half a cold season back that she had loved ones that counted on her to provide meals, to give daily instruction, to train, to hug, to laugh with.

She shook the memories away. They would only serve as a distraction from the task at hand. With more uncertainty then Yariel would have liked, she placed a foot on the wooden suspension bridge. It creaked. It swayed slightly.

If she had had her choice, Yariel would wait for the first hints of dawn to cross the crevice. Honestly, if she had had her choice, Yariel would still be pulling root vegetables for an evening stew while her brothers played Father Mole in the snow. But choices were a luxury.

"Your heart will now," Yariel mouthed the words as prayer. As a way of willing herself to take the next step. Those were his last words before fading into the Next. He had placed his weathered, calloused hand on her cheek and closed his eyes.

A cold breeze brought her back to the present. She looked down. Thankfully the Night Fog had crept in and she couldn't see all the way down. Unfortunately, she couldn't see all the way across either.

Her heart was telling her to move forward. It was undeniable. Whatever was ahead of Yariel beckoned her to come.