"I am... a guardian," I begin, the words coming slowly. "Of winter. Of this territory."
"Like a nature spirit?"
"More and less than that." I gesture toward the window, where snow continues to fall. "I maintain the balance of cold in this region. Ensure winter comes as it should, stays as long as it must, retreats when necessary."
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Five centuries, give or take a few decades."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't question the impossible age. After what she's seen, perhaps nothing seems too fantastical anymore.
"Were you... born this way?"
The question touches on memories long buried under centuries of snow. "No. I was human once. Long ago."
"What happened?"
Ice forms on the table where my hand rests, spreading in agitated patterns. "A choice. A sacrifice. A winter that would have killed everyone in my village if someone didn't... become one with it. Contain it."
Not the full truth, but as much as I can bear to remember. The rest lies buried in ice so deep I'm not sure I could reach it if I tried.
"So you saved them," she says softly. "By becoming this."
I nod once, uncomfortable with the admiration in her voice. "It was necessary."
"And you've been alone ever since? For five hundred years?"
The question cuts deeper than it should. "Winter is solitary by nature."
"But you're not just winter," she argues. "You're still part human too. I've seen it."
I look away, unable to meet the understanding in her eyes. "That part grows smaller with each passing century."
"Until I came along and messed up your perfect isolation?" There's that teasing tone again, gentle but persistent.
"You are... disruptive," I admit, finding myself almost smiling again.
"Good." She reaches across the table, fearlessly placing her warm hand over my cold one. "I think you needed disrupting."
Where our skin touches, neither frost nor steam forms now—just a perfect balance of temperatures. Something has changed between us, some equilibrium found that shouldn't be possible.
"What about you?" I ask, turning the focus away from myself. "What drives a human woman to wander alone in dangerous territories with nothing but a camera?"
"Beauty," she answers without hesitation. "I chase beautiful things, even when they might kill me." Her eyes meet mine, making it clear she isn't just talking about landscapes.
"A dangerous pursuit."
"The best things usually are." She squeezes my hand once before releasing it. "My turn for questions again. Do you have to stay here? In this territory?"
The question catches me off guard. "I... yes. My power is strongest here. The further I travel from my domain, the weaker my connection to winter becomes."
"But you could leave? Temporarily?"
"For short periods. Days, perhaps weeks if necessary. Why?"
She shrugs, too casually. "Just wondering about your limitations."
Clever woman. Already plotting, planning, looking for possibilities I haven't considered in centuries.
