My mind ebbed at the edge of consciousness. Words, cast in a monotonous tone, were muffled, seemingly beyond my range of hearing. My eyes still refused to open despite control slowly returning to my extremities. A pounding reverberated through my head, every attempt to move pushed my body and mind to punish my attempts in unison.

Is that...heat I felt?

The cavern walls seemed to radiate heat into my back.

It took a few minutes, along with a great amount of effort, but I soon was able to raise my hand and wipe away the faded crystals from my eyes. A few blinks and my vision cleared.

To my surprise, the muffled voice was not from a distance, but was truly no more than a few meters away. Its owner, a young girl with curly, brunette hair, spoke nonsense through a full mouth. Crumbs flowed over her weathered fur tunic and pants. Whatever words she spoke were filled with an unsettling calm and frigidness.

Was the girl speaking to me? She faced me so she must be. If so, I knew not what--

My uncertainty was answered in full when the cavern wall on which I leaned against shifted behind me. Anguish struck my nerves as the heat shifted and made way for cool air, though it was short lived as my mind began to focus. As far as my elevated schooling and over 300 moon cycles had taught me, walls were not supposed to move.

The boulder on which my arm rested conjured a puff of steam as a drip from the ceiling landed upon it. I followed the trajectory of the drip, though I stopped before its origin. While I was rather sure cavern walls were not supposed to shift, I was positive that they were not supposed to have a face.

Crimson eyes, set aflame from something within, gazed down at me. My heart rose; my stomach fell. Scampering away proved foolish as my hand slid through the smoldering coals that fueled the nearby fire. My glove set ablaze instantly, momentarily masking the smell of sulfur and granite with the smell of burning wool. If my body was not awake prior, it was at this point. My whole system snapped to shock and my voice, hoarse from either the frigid wind, diet of rough seeds, or lack of use, reverberated through the cave with the veracity of a wounded animal.

The wild girl snatched my enflamed hand from the air and pulled me with a surprising force to the cave’s snow-encrusted entrance.

For once, I was happy for the recent snowfall as it made the mound she shoved my arm into light and fluffy, as opposed to tight and compact as others were. My screaming and the wind made hearing anything else near impossible, though the faint sound of sizzling flesh provided an offending undertone to the wails.

A blanket of relief fell over my body, but only for a moment as the attention of my nerves shifted from my snow encrusted hand to the tiny, aerial daggers of sleet that attacked my face.

The girl dragged me once more, this time back into the cave and to the nearby fire.

My chest throbbed as I fought to calm my animalistic reactions to the previous 60 seconds. Damn that previous interruption of my treasured departure from this world. My body, though, was too exhausted to truly feel my anger towards what was taken from me.

Faded consciousness had once again led to a passage of time I could not accurately estimate. Finally, I opened my eyes again and inspected the scene. It seemed my hand would survive: the multiple layers of gloves protected it long enough to only allow light burns which had already seemed to be blistering. That was the lucky part. The unlucky part was that feeling was returning as I thawed, which meant my hand began to sting and ache.

And smell.

The cave, now dimly lit from the partially smothered fire (debatably of my fault), was truly larger than I had previously realized. A small collection of berries lie before me. The wild girl stood beside me; her eyes glared into my soul, as if waiting for me to act. However, they were not the eyes that concerned me the most, as that prize was awarded to the eyes of the rocky creature behind her.

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A golem.

Though crouched to fit within the cave, it still stood nearly 3 meters tall. That was the closest I had been to a golem, a fact that was accompanied by shame as it crossed my mind. It seemed no larger than most golems; however, the crimson light that radiated from the space between the collection of hundreds of rocks comprising its body told me it was of a unique species of golem.

Most golems bear the element of ní within their veins (or whatever the golem equivalent of veins was), using their strength and power to mold landscapes around them to achieve their desired goals. Similarly, many other golems possess the element of ch’il, the ability to influence the plant life around them. The third major element of the golems, nílchʼi, is the ability to control the wind and air flowing through the spaces between their stony body.

Ko’, the power to control the flames burning within, is one of the second-tier elements, and rare yet much more powerful than the common first tier.

There was no way this girl had seen any more than 120 moon cycles, yet she had still conquered a ko’ golem.

Composure. I needed to recapture composure. I was her elder after all. In my land, the more moon cycles you endured, the more respect you commanded, even if you were a dim-witted and unworthy man in banishment. I had seen nearly 300 new moons within my life; I was very much her elder.

“H-hello, um, girl.” After weeks of silence and the constant freezing of my vocal cords, my voice sounded harsh, almost foreign to me. I stretched a bit of rust from my bones and puffed out my chest: a commanding stance to command her to recognize my ascended status. “Thank you for the shelter. You may now tell me your name.”

The girl’s response was not of the respect I deserved. Not for any words she spoke, but because she gave no audible response, and instead returned to her seat and continued her meal. Crumbs tumbled down the hills of her oversized jacket, caught within the dark fur. A truly unsettling sight it was.

“Girl, I have thanked you for your shelter and given you permission to give me your name. I respectfully ask that you now give it.”

No response.

I felt the giant when it sat beside me, or more the shock wave of the action really. The cave shook; snow and rocks alike crashed around us. Still, the girl’s blank expression remained. Perhaps she was lame?

The creature sat its stony finger gently upon my shoulder. Fear broke upon my body, the sound of my own heart screeching to a halt burst through my ears. How ironic for my death to be at the hands of my greatest failure?

Prepped for the strike of stone across my body, I welcomed certain death with an uncontained chuckle.

Instead, I felt my legs buckle beneath me as the dominant finger pushed my body to the floor. Pain and shock quarreled through my body, only to be overtaken by confusion and intrigue. Stones crunched as the hand returned to the golem’s lap, its hollow eyes once more stared back into the girl’s own.

Satisfied with her audience, her eyes seemed to glaze over as she picked back up her story she was telling the golem previously. Though barely audible through her chomps, I still recognized it as a story my own mother had once told me: a noble, young hero and his béshdín golem used the powers of the sun’s light to vanquish the Odaka clan, a tribe of chaha’oh masters who had banded together to rule the world with their power of Earth’s shadows.

“Noble”. “Hero”. Words that would never describe me. At least I got “young”.

Irritation boiled as the girl continued her story and the golem listened in captivation. This girl was my junior. How could she disrespect me so as to not even acknowledge my gratitude, let alone my request for her name. I should have made her pay for such disobedience.

As if reading my thoughts, I felt the golem glance over at me briefly and shift its arm as if a reminder that it was still there.

I looked down at the pile of roots and berries at my feet. My stomach audibly reminded me of its desires, so with my unscathed hand, I popped a berry into my mouth.

Perhaps it was wise I let the girl’s rudeness slide that one time.

The cave looked nearly haunted in the dim, crimson glow of the golem. With the fire mere embers, visibility was low. Still, I could see the young girl curled into the golem’s arms beside me, the heat of the ko’ golem keeping our bodies at a healthy temperature in the wintry night.

The girl had not spoken to me, instead using her words to tell the golem of various stories of heroic and triumphant golem/master partnerships. Many stories I had heard, though some I swore she made up. Her voice, strangely deep and gravely for such a young female, never showed excitement or boredom with the continuous stories. If not for her petite body and limited moons, I would have sworn she were another uninspired instructor from my academy back home.

As I stared holes into the ceiling above, I pondered if I were a prisoner, guest, or merely an inconvenience. She allowed me to eat her insipid food, though still paid no attention when I did. She provided no hospitality, though no threat if I were to depart. Truly, if not for the golem’s threatening gazes, I may have believed I were a ghost, journeying to the afterlife from my body left upon some snow-covered ditch.

I may have not been her prisoner, but I was certainly a prisoner of the season. The golem’s glances and her cold expressions concerned me, but the thought of exiting into that blizzard once more terrified me.

So, I remained.