When Latisha got to the village, the villager's came out and took each his own sheep back with them. Latisha stood still, trying to keep the sheep in order until every last one was taken away and she was left alone in the dusty road as the sun set lower in the sky, gleaming in red and purple. For a few moments Latisha drank in the chilling autumn air, then turned away from the village and began walking back to her home that was situated at the very edge of the village, hardly to be considered in the village at all.

Her bare feet hit the ground, as she skipped along the road, happy to be done watching the sheep as she was getting tired of bringing the stray ones back into the fold. She stopped at the hill leading to her house and took in a deep breath, then proceeded along her way, U the black dog following at her side the whole time.

Latisha came to the top of the hill and came reluctantly to the door of her house. The house would be empty all except for her older brother. Memories filled her mind, but she tried to push them away, but they clung all the harder. It had now been only a month since everything had changed. Her brother had been in the mines of the Tynendell mountains, when the terrible blow of fate hit her brother. He had been working when some of the crossbeams suddenly crumbled into the dark mining shaft followed by a down poor of rubble, killing five men and wounding ten. Her brother had been one of the wounded men. He had taken a hard knocking by the rocks and had instantly blacked out, loosing his memory, and mental reason, leaving the young man of twenty paralyzed in mind, and unable to support himself, not being able to think clearly.

Latisha quietly pushed open the cottage door, revealing a dark barren home. A figure sitting upon a small chair by the dying fireside sat her brother, mumbling something to himself in the dark one-roomed house.

Latisha perked up a smile, as she walked hurriedly over to her brother. "How are you feeling, Ivar?" she asked cheerfully.

Ivar nodded his head, but said nothing particular, as he continued to sit brooding over the dying embers of the fire in the small hearth.

Latisha felt a tear slide down her cheeks, but quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand, as she knelt over the hearth and lifting a meddle rod, gently stirred the embers into a small crackling blaze. She then went over to the cupboards and stirred in the meager ingredients into a small pot over the fire as she began to make a hot though tasteless stew.

A half an hour later she handed her brother a wooden bowl and spoon, got the same for herself, and filled them with their evening meal. The two were silent as they ate, silence was the main conversations nowadays for the two siblings. Latisha sitting upon the dirt floor of the empty house, her brother next to her on a small chair, both silent, both brooding over their own thoughts how distant and apart from each other. The two used to be the best of friends, but now they couldn't even converse with each other.

That night Latisha upon her blankets in the corner of the house shed many silent tears. In the night, in the darkness, in the silence, that was her only life at home. Yet she wouldn't dream of leaving it, she loved her brother too much to go. She must suffer though it quietly and submit to her fate. She loved her brother so much, but she knew she would never get the love returned back to her, it was a one sided relationship, and a sorry one at that.

The next day Latisha woke up before the dawn, and fixed the meal to break their fast. After it was done, Latisha made sure her brother had everything he could want or need, and then she was off.

She opened the door and stepped out into the still quiet dark morning air. A fresh frost was upon the ground, and the day was much colder then the previous day, she made sure she had boots on. Latisha headed with her dog across the edge of town until she came to the same dusty road and waited for the people to gather and bring her their sheep. 

Latisha giggled when she stood once again upon the wild hills of North-Tynendell, letting the breeze blow her blond hair out behind her. She wondered if it her life was as bad as she had thought the night before, she still had the free wild rolling hills of Adrin. No one could rob her of those, nor of the pleasure she had with the wild animals that inhabited those hills.

That morning passed the same as usual, between watching her flock, she visited all of her animal friends. That afternoon was another foggy, overcast day, but she didn't mind. She studied the last of the flowers that still grew upon the hillside before winter broke in. A few wild blue flowers still grew upon the hillside, and it was by these that she sat down and drew forth from her pocket a small sketch pad, and her small tin of paint made from the dies of the flowers and herbs that she had found within the past week. She opened her small tin, the size of the with of a palm, and placed her paint brush made out of part of her very own hair, and a wild reed stem. She dipped the makeshift brush into the tin and began to sketch the flower which she sat next too still growing amid the fading grasses.

She was always careful with paper, because it was extremely expensive, and she could only afford to buy it once a year in the spring. She had used the small parcel of paper sparingly, and even now this was her second to last page of free paper. No matter how sparingly she used it, she  always felt sad when she came to the last couple of sheets of blank paper.

A distinct "Hoot-hoot-who-ah," of an owl overhead in a tree nearby caught Latisha's attention. She carefully set the paper and paintbrush down at her side, and casting a look at her sheep to see if they were all still there (which they were), she quietly made her way over to the foot of the tree to further inspect the new arrival.

The owl was in plain sight, though if she didn't know what she was looking for, she might have missed it entirely, seeing that it's gray stripes matched the tree it was on remarkably well. However, she did spot it, and the patient watching, observing, and waiting to get to know the habits and personality of any wild animal, suited her like a crown on a king. No amount of persuading would be able to entice her from observing a wild animal upon her hill.

And so her days passed, one after another, without any real excitement happening to her. Every day she was out of the house just as the sun was rising red on the horizon, every evening she led the sheep back to the village, and on and on in an unbroken stretch of two weeks.

It was upon the forenoon of a particularly cold day filled with the feeling of expected snow, the first snowfall of the year that something of importance befell her. It was now mid to late September. A few young dear, grazed not far off from her, as Latisha sat underneath the tree, watching the sheep, while keeping an observant eye upon the two dear. It was then, the first snow flakes began falling upon the newly frozen ground.

Latisha looked looked down upon her ragged boots, then sighed heavily. It would not happen, she would not be able to attend the annual Festival of the New Year, as in Adrin the new year was marked by the second week of September when the many lakes in Adrin would be frozen over. Gathering together by a nearby lake, the peasants would buckle on their ice skate blades to the bottom of their boots, and glide along the frozen surface of water. The fire light would sparkle out in the darkness, as the red sun set in the evening sky. A skate was a fun filled occasion, where the ladies and men partnered up, and spun around the ice. Village minstrels, with their violins and flutes, played both enchanting and jolly melodies for the skaters. The Adrin folk didn't have balls, so a skate was their equivalent. The winter months lasted from mid September until late April, so a skate could be held almost all year round with the exception of four months. However, for the peasant folk, with the farming, they would not have time for such occasions anyway in those summer months. But the winter was a time of rest, and a skate never suited any man or woman more than the peasants of Adrin.

Latisha knew however, that without skate blades, she could never go. When she younger, she used to go to the skate with Ivar, but this year would be different. She had already sold her one pair of blades for money to keep her and her brother going, and it was simply out of the question for her to go. Everything was so different now, and she knew she could never have the same happiness she had had with her brother. Memories of him twirling her around and round on the smooth ice, filled her mind with a far off painful memory when she used to be so carefree and happy.

Latisha looked up into the sky to see the sun already low on the horizon. She began gathering up her flock, and headed back to the village. The last sheep was leaving her to it's master, when a familiar voice sounded behind her. Latisha spun around, to see Hadrian's grinning face looking at her.

"Are you coming?" he asked her with a friendly smile. "Half the village has already left for the pond."

"No," Latisha tried to smile.

There was a slight pause, as Hadrian looked down upon her blade-less boots.

"I really must get home," Latisha tried to walk away from Hadrian, but he stepped in front of her.

"Latisha, you look exhausted, don't be so foolish! You need a break, you have done nothing but work for the past few weeks, just come with me tonight, just this once to the festival."

"Hadrian, please!" she spun around to face him again. "I have a brother to look after." She turned around sharply and began walking quickly towards her home, she didn't want him to know she didn't even have a pair of ice blades, a comfort that even the poorest serf still possessed. She knew her brother wouldn't miss her if she were gone a few extra hours, but there was no possible way she could go to the skate, with or without Hadrian.

Latisha took the long way home, trying to calm herself before she had to see to her brother. For a long time, she stopped at the edge of a hill, and looked down upon the villagers caring flickering lanterns and candles in their hands as they made their way to the pond. She felt tears sting her eyes as she continued to watch. If only her brother had not been in the mine the day that it fell in, he would still be all right. Right now even the two of them would be waiting at the pond for the rest of the villagers to show up before stepping onto the smooth un-skated ice. But it was not to be, and what was done, who could change it?
That evening when she came to the door of her house, she paused in astonishment. Laying upon the doorstep, sat two silvery brand new ice skate blades and straps to attach them to her boots.

~The Authoress