Michelle was first off the boat, splashing through the shallows, hauling the vessel up onto the shale. She left the men to secure the ship, unsheathed her sword, and ran to the top of the nearest dune. As she crested the hill the new land opened before her - grassy meadows and thick oak forests, and not a single sign of people.
At one end of the beach they found an inlet where boats could enter and be sheltered, and at the head of the inlet, where the land was best for growing, they began to build. Michelle moved out of the sprouting village and onto the crest of a nearby hill, close to where the forest began, and where she could see the sea before her and the mountains behind.
By the time the summer ended, five months later, she had cleared the stones from the meadow and used them to build a solid home, and had already harvested her first crop of rye. She had killed a wild pig, half of which she'd salted, the other half she'd traded for fish, and the forest, though treacherous to the unwary, was a good provider of fruit, nuts and game.
On the first cold night of the autumn, Michelle cooked a simple meal on the hearth, then settled down to sleep. There were men in the village who would visit if asked, but tonight she had not asked. She had been born on an autumn night such as this, and as she fell to sleep she remembered her childhood across the water, and her mother calling her name...
["Michelle... Michelle..."]
She woke with a start. The fire had burned low. She heard her mother whisper
["Michelle..."]
and thought that perhaps she was still dreaming. But the wind sighed at the doorway, and her breath condensed in the frigid air, so when the call came again
["Michelle..."]
she threw more wood on the fire, stoked the embers, and listened.
["Michelle... Michelle..."]
The next time the voice called her a gust of wind snatched it away. She donned her furs, took her sword from its scabbard, and stepped out into the night.
["Michelle... Michelle...]
She stood in the shadow by the door. The crescent moon offered little light, but the skies were clear and her eyes adjusted to the starlight.
["Michelle... Michelle...]
But she could see no-one. She moved around the house, her sword raised. A bird fluttered from under the eaves and she stopped herself from swinging at it. It flew away into the night
["Michelle..."]
and she followed the line of the house around, her heart beating faster.
["Michelle..."]
She reached the back of the house, and stopped.
["MICHELLE..."]
The whisper was coming from the forest, and the voice was more insistent now, so she turned towards the trees, her sword hand behind her, the weapon hidden, but ready to strike.
["Stop..."]
She stopped, three paces from the trees. She peered into the wood, but could see nothing.
["Do not look at us, SEE us..."]
She closed her eyes, and opened her third eye, the unseen eye, which her mother had taught her could see things that her two eyes could not, and with that third eye she looked again.
["See us..."]
And she saw. There were figures amongst the trees, strange long-limbed creatures, with pointed ears and flattened noses, and as they stood there and regarded her they made small, stiff movements of the head, as if straining to hear.
["See us..."]
"I see you," she croaked, and her throat had become dry. "I see you," she said, and the figures heard her.
["See us, we are dying..."]
And she saw that the figures did indeed look sickly, faded, mere memories of once-strong beings. "I see you," she said, and they heard her, and she saw that it gave them a little strength, and with that strength they reached out
["Help us..."]
towards her. She stood there for a long time, searching her feelings.
["Help us this day or no other, today you have the power..."]
And her feelings spoke to her, with her mother's voice, and the voice said "Trust".
She dropped the sword, threw back her head, lifted her gaze to the sky, and bared both her wrists to the
["faeries..."]
creatures, who bared their teeth and came to her. They drank from her, and they grew stronger, but rather than depleting her their thirst gave her a feeling of power, and she filled with light, with joy, with strength, and the stars shone brighter than ever before.
And then they were gone.
Michelle opened her two eyes and looked. The creatures - "faeries", she thought - had melted back into the woods, it seemed, or she had lost the ability or the will to see them.
She went back inside.
In the years after, Michelle's power grew and grew again. She became queen of her tribe, and defended them in times of war with cunning and guile, and guided them through times of hardship with wisdom and, it often seemed, a unearthly good fortune.
She had many children, and they grew strong and bold, and they spread out across the land, and became kings and queens of new dominions, and every year, on the anniversary of their mother's birth, they would celebrate the coming cold with joy, because with the cold the faeries would come to feed.
