Return from Memory

It was quiet, then. Indeed, little noise could be heard as she walked down the path leading to a place unknown. The sun was setting by this time, sinking behind the distant hills to take refuge in another part of the world. She sighed, her frail shoulders rising and falling with the exaggerated breath. The trees, with leaves turned from their natural colour at the gentle urging of autumn, surrounded the path. Autumn had come quickly, she noticed. It started with a few rebellious leaves, and then spread like wild fire, causing the nobles to cast their emerald robes off in favour of more vibrant colours. The wind soon became greedy, though, and stripped those garbs from them, tearing them asunder and leaving them on the ground, leaving the nobles mere naked shadows of their warm weather glory.

Now, the wind, fulfilled in its greed, whispered secrets to her as she walked the path. It blew her long, ash blonde hair in front of her, telling her that it would be a cold night. As though to prove its point, it danced around her carrying with it a chill. She pulled her thin overcoat tighter over her, shrugging her shoulders a few times as though that would make her warmer, only by moving the blood in them a little bit faster. It was a bad idea; the coat had captured the cold and now pressed it against her flesh, and the wind chuckled through the rustling leaves before going ahead of her to warn other travelers.

She reached a small town before nightfall, which was little more than an inn, a market center and fourteen little houses, all huddled to protect each other from the now frigid air. She gave a tiny smile, gripping the small bag that hung over one shoulder a little tighter. Walking into the inn, she was greeted with warm air, the sound of dinner conversation, the clinking of glasses and footsteps. The aroma of food hit her a few seconds later, and she breathed deeply, taking in the wonderful scent.