Page 184 of Psycho Gods

I’d never felt so cold.

Crystal wings clattered together as their heavy weight tipped me forward, and I sprawled face first into the pile of snow that had accumulated on the frozen ground where I’d been standing.

The morning light through the clouds was long gone, and the forest was frozen with extreme cold. The blizzard had kicked up a notch.

It was a whiteout.

Sun god, I hated the realm’s temperamental weather.

I turned my neck awkwardly to the side and looked up at the towering pines. They’d frozen completely solid in the storm and were covered in white. Disturbingly sharp icicles hung menacingly off their branches.

Were the trees dead?

Was I dead?

My curls were uncomfortably stiff, plastered against my neck and back. They’d frozen solid with sweat.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Did time even exist?

Delirium and existential dread clouded my thoughts. Never a good sign.

Gums burning from breathing harshly in the cold wind, I tasted copper on my tongue and moaned pitifully into the snowbank beneath me. Snowflakes sprayed.

I tried to push myself up.

I searched for the determination that had spurned me forward, but it was gone. There was nothing left to give.

For hours, I’d heaved as I spread my wings wide and flexed unused shoulder muscles. For hours—I’d failed.

My feet never left the ground.

At one point, I was so demoralized I jumped up just so I could pretend that I’d flown an inch. My wings were so heavy I’d stumbled and slammed into a tree.

A humbling experience.

It would have been disheartening if I hadn’t already hit rock bottom. Good thing I was already there.

At least my fingers were warm.

The mittens worked amazingly. They were clearly enchanted because the temperature inside them had increased as I’d gotten colder.

Toasty-warm fingers felt like such a luxury, especially since I was lying half-dead in a snowbank. A part of me recognized I should try to move, and there was something crucial I needed to do.

But my thoughts were sluggish.

The snow seemed to fall in slow motion. The storm was pretty, in a violent, terrifying sort of way.

Exhaustion melted into sleepiness. I just wanted to curl up and embrace the stillness.

Crystals clattered as the wind gusted.

The longer I lay in the snow, the more moving seemed like a ridiculous endeavor. Snow was soft and pillowy. It had a nice cushion.

I closed my eyes, content to take a nap.

Time passed.