The snow was red. Nearly all of it was red, a river of blood.
But it wasn't the color that froze people that morning.
It was her.
She wasn't a warrior. She wasn't a Magi.
She was just a woman.
A mortal.
And she walked.
Her robes and scarf were dirty. Her lips cracked from the cold. Her hands trembled.
But she kept walking. Right past the stunned combatants and the murmuring priests.
In her arms was a child.
Skin and bones.
Eyes too tired to cry.
Cheeks like sunken cloth.
She stopped just outside the camp's perimeter.
Not within. Not beyond. Right on the edge, where ice and danger met.
She didn't speak right away.
But when she did, her voice…
"O people!"
It wasn't loud.
"Listen to me."
It didn't need to be.
"O people!"
She held the boy higher with all the strength she could summon.
"This is only a child!"
Her arms shook.
"He has nothing to do with this war!"
Her voice cracked, but she pushed on.
"Please, for the sake of God…"
She coughed, swayed…
