Nysa steadily placed her palm on the surface of the mirror, and whispered his name, ‘Marquiz’. She had said it a hundred times in her head, but as she said it aloud, it sounded outright different to her ears; as if she was hearing it for the first time ever.
But there was little time to ponder over these trivialities, as no sooner had she uttered his name, she was swept away by a strong wind all into a haze of white. As she adjusted to the sudden whirl and subsequent inertia, her eyes took in the blaring whiteness everywhere. It was a land of clouds and mist, where she could see not what lay inches ahead of her, and the floor was a sheet of bland crushed ice. As her feet touched the floor, a tremble reached all through her like raw current.....She tottered and shuffled her feet by this sudden change in temperature.
1, 2, 3, 4 steps. All in the exact same spot.
The gravity of the situation suddenly occurred to her followed by the loss she had incurred in these few moments of abrupt daze. The next few steps Nysa took straight ahead were more calculated, longer strides with a determination in her eyes.
She was going to do it; and she was going to do it right!
10, 11, 12..........38, 39, 40.
As she walked on, her bare feet froze to a point where its nails turned blue followed by a numbness and she couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore.
All she cared now was numbers that jarred and whirled in her head with a steady pace.
54, 55, 56
Her senses were jammed. The cold had overpowered her so much that the perception of numbers was being shut out by the frost bites that gnawed into her little feet like splinters.
71, 72, 73
The pain surpassed anything she had ever felt before. She profusely rubbed her hands and hugged herself to get some respite from the chilly ambience. Fresh tears stung from her eyes with each step she took.
The only thing that kept her going was the thought of his picture.
85, 86, 87
She couldn’t do it any longer. Her legs gave away under her as she fell to the ground and felt all the life and stamina seep out.
Exhausted and cold, yet her eyes searched for his face in the mist.
And she saw the hazy contour of a person.
It was as though a sudden gust of vigour had been infused into her sagging poise. Like a flash of the finish line had been shoved in her face.
She got up with a fresh heartiness and treaded once again towards the now more pronounced figure of a person.
92, 93, 94
She could see his fine-looking face plainly in sight. The chill didn’t bite her any more. The thrill of looking straight at him superseded the numbness and eased the pain.
The heart felt the warmth, but the mind didn’t.
It was aware of its depleted immunity....and it gave away as she crumbled, tripped on her dress and fell.
Marquiz bent over to scoop her and she hobbled on the ground as he helped her up.
99? 100? 101?
To be continued.......*the concluding part :o*