The cold grip of winter’s air was finally beginning to loosen. The snow was nearly gone, but in those few patches where it remained, blades of grass poked their heads through, like turtles surfacing for air. Flowers unfurled their petals, stretching after their seasons-long slumber and disrobing their coats of frost.

But even with Winter’s grasp broken, the rain carried its own sharp bites of cold, as if Winter were tapping at your shoulder with one pale finger to say I haven’t left quite yet.

By the looks of it, most of the village preferred to keep the pounding at their doors than against their person. Those villagers willing to brave the wet and the wind stepped with fierce cadence to arrive at their destinations, focused solely on their errand and unwilling to be distracted by idle conversation.

Even the shopkeepers kept quiet, bundling into their coats to keep the cold out and only getting up to greet customers already engaged in their wares. The blacksmith in particular took his time in rousing to greet my mother.

“Oh come now, you infant,” my mother teased him, “the wind isn’t that bad. Not even Crow is bothered by it.”

I was too busy jumping in the puddles to notice if he had gotten up yet or not. The high leather of my boots helped to keep the water out, even from the seismic force of my stomps. Mother, watch! This one will be as big as a tidal wave!! “Muh-mee, splash splash.”

“Alright, alright, Gwen, I’m coming. No need to be nasty about it.” The rugged exterior of the blacksmith, with his unkempt beard and tattooed arms, was quite possibly the most deceptive thing in this village given how sensitive he was--and that’s coming from an emperor in the body of a baby. “What will it be?”

“I’ve the herbs you had requested,” my mother said as she placed a small pouch on the anvil, seeing as the kiosk lacked a proper counter. “Are the arrows ready?”

“Aye. Have them right here.” The blacksmith reached backward and grabbed a bundle of arrows he had set aside for my mother, shivering as the cloak he had kept closed opened when his arm stretched to grab it.

When the wind picked up, I ran--er, well toddled--to my mother’s leg for cover. I hadn’t minded the rain when it fell in sprinkles, but the light grey sky turned dark and the pour falling at its now-sharp angle was far less attractive to me. My mother seemed to notice the weather picking up as well, electing to chat with the smith rather than venture into the storm. I predicted her conversation would conveniently end when the downpour died down again.

Across the way, some soldiers patrolled the length of the street. Their cloaks looked nearly soaked through, and the steady patter of rain rang loudly against their breastplates, which looked almost blue in the fresh spring’s cold. Tap tap tap. Winter’s calling.

I almost felt sorry for the poor bastards, unsheltered from nature’s malice save for the occasional head-poke into a vendor’s stall, until they began blatantly harassing one such vendor.

“Oi oi, you have to pay for that!” the vendor called as he rose from his seat, the blanket falling beneath him.

“Pay?” The soldier took another bite from the apple he had just swiped from the vendor’s kiosk. “You hear that, Charlie? Man says we got to pay him.”

The other soldier--Charlie--was placing his third or fourth apple into his satchel. “Pay?” he objected even more loudly than the first soldier, clearly offended. “Haven’t we paid enough? Protecting you filth in this cesspool of a village; freezing out in the bloody rain; that ain’t payment enough for you?” He leaned over the counter and shoved baskets aside, apples rolling out to the muddy soil below, and grabbed the vendor by the collar.

His partner remained unfazed by Charlie’s advance, casually biting into the apple, before offering his perspective. “I’d wager we’ve paid more than enough.” He dropped the half eaten fruit to join the other spoiled goods. “Which is to say, we’ll be collecting what we’re owed. What are we owed, Charlie?”

“Please,” the vendor begged as he tried to pull free from Charlie’s grip. “I didn’t mean offense, only… with the taxes as they are, I’ve barely enough to-”

A swift punch to the nose left the vendor speechless and bloodied. 

I looked to my mother who continued to converse with the smithie, unaware of the brutality going on behind her. I tugged at her dress, but she waved me off. “Just a moment, darling.”

Even with the vendor crying out, I could barely hear him over the rain. It was no wonder that Mother was oblivious. I can’t just watch this.

There was hardly anyone out. Mother and the blacksmith were engrossed in conversation. The rain obscured sight as well as it dampened sound. No one will notice.

I drew small circles with my hands, turning at the wrist with synchronized motion. The vendor was still in Charlie’s clutches trying to pull free, receiving jabs from his iron gauntlet, when a piece of hail struck the soldier’s head.

He turned to see what had hit him, peeking up to the sky with slow realization. The rain was falling heavily enough that transmuting it to ice proved manageable. Another twist of my hand, and another chunk of ice hit him squarely between the eyes, this time sending him backwards and slipping into the mud. I made a sweeping motion to the ground, conjuring a thin layer of ice. That should keep him down.

His friend laughed as Charlie’s boots kept slipping when he tried to recover. His armor and cloak were completely caked in cold mud. The laughing came to a sudden halt when I brought a sharpened piece of hail straight down through the kiosk’s awning, tearing apart the soldiers’ only cover from the rain, and dumping the pool of water that had gathered above them on the pair. “Maker!” The dumped water drenched them both, the weight of it throwing off the standing soldier’s balance and causing him to slip ass first into the mud himself.

The two scrambled off, keeping their heads guarded as they made their retreat. The commotion was enough that even the few villagers in the rain were stifling their laughs. By the time the vendor was able to stand, I was poking my nose over the counter, offering the spoils of the soldier’s satchel, which Charlie and pal had been too distracted to notice me relieve from them. Dumbfounded, the vendor only took it. You’re welcome!

Fortunately, those soldiers were too busy tripping over themselves to link the events to any magical source. Nor did they see the icey ground they slipped on revert to its soft muddy form. And best of all, no one noticed me doing any of-

My ear was yanked sharply by my surprisingly perceptive mother. I guess I hadn’t been as careful as I thought.