Fire

Snow swirling like soft candy, falling headlong into the lap of the earth. He's alone as he breathes in the thin mountain air, or so he thinks. What's that sound in the background? Is he really alone? The sun is casting its last light, and he must hurry home. The storm is gathering, and he must cut through it and get to safety. 

All the stories he's heard of fairies and ghosts dancing on the sides of cliffs beckoning lost wanderers off the edge come flooding back to him. The sound seems stronger, that was definitely the snapping of a twig as though something or someone was falling.  But then shouldn't those unspeakable entities be able to move more noiselessly? Surely this isn't something otherworldly?

Suddenly he sees a glare in the distance, breaking through the mist that's begun to gather. Is it those fairy lights he mustn't follow, and then the sound again and a scream and some movement. 

"Hey get off me!"

There's a small child staring back at him, blinking and clinging to him. 

"Hello, I'm Shyam, I need to get back home soon, the storm is in full steam now. Who are you? What are you doing wandering about at a time like this?"

The child does not answer, but just stares back and then shyly takes Shyam's hand. Wordlessly, he stares leading him, it seemed towards the glare. 

Somehow miraculously the storm seems to ease around them, and they move as though protected by a blanket of snow. The glare comes from the remains of what seems to be a fire lit under an overhanging cliff. Someone, or perhaps some people had huddled there to keep warm before moving on. 

Shyam quickly moves towards the fire and feeds it a few more logs that are lying around. He turns around to get the child to safety, but he is gone. The storm has now gotten too strong and drives him back to the rock as he tries in vain to look for the child. 

He lies there troubled, but soon passes out. 

When dawn breaks, he finds himself sleeping under the same shelf of rock, safe and protected through the night. 

Back at the village his mother is relieved to have him back at home, then shaking her head mumbles. "Ramu's grandchild Nandu lost his way in the storm last night. He had gone with them out to the same rock shelf where you sheltered last night. On the way back he got lost, seems to have fallen or slipped into a ravine, no one has been able to find him. I am so glad they were out there looking for him and found you."  

"Nandu, tread carefully, keep your eyes on the fire, come back to it. Where are you? Come to where the fire is lit, it's safe there. Where are you?"

Thanks, Ruskin, for inspiring this, you bring my beloved hills to live.