The Snow Lady

The clocktower struck six beneath the frozen, ash sky. Factory-grade arachmations crept above the streets of Snowdrift, making a final sweep of the snow-clad alleys before returning to the nearby CORE-powered facility for maintenance.

Nathaniel was awake before the morning bell sounded, not because he needed to be but to prepare for his wife’s homecoming. Emilia was to return with the Asquith Fleet from a year-long contract given by the Wolfmourne Company. The couple were engineers who faced the unknown with bravery. The Company liked to call it, "The brave new world that awaits the last of society.", despite much of the work to rebuild their civilization was already completed they still hung on that phrase.

Nathaniel anxiously watched the steel grandfather clock as it chimed woefully: “Just a while longer,” he muttered, making his way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for his children, Anna and Antonin. The sweet scent of pan-roasted apples and bacon bled throughout the alley house—waking the children. Nathaniel placed their servings on the table and prepared to leave for work.

Not wanting to miss her father, Anna, rushed downstairs dressed in her winter clothes and hugged her father. She brushed away her wild hair and looked up at Nathaniel, repeating the same question she had asked since her mother left: “Is Mum coming home today?”

“Yes, Anna, your mother is coming home,” Nathaniel said, smiling.

Antonin was hunched over his desk, writing in a small black notebook his mother gave him before she left. He’d spent the last year writing down all the stories he would have told her each night after supper while they washed the dishes. He was currently writing a story, she was sure to love. For the last week, he’d been stumped on the final sentence of his story.

“Antonin, your apple roast is getting cold!” Nathaniel shouted.

“Coming, Dad!” Antonin called, pushing away from his desk.

Tossing on his coat he made his way downstairs. He smiled as he sat across from his sister who was ignoring the bacon and enjoying her apples a little too much, barely noting the sauce dripping down her chin, she brushed it away with her coat sleeve.

Nathaniel buttoned his leather coat and adjusted his ebony hat, before kissing Anna and Antonin goodbye: “I will be back before the sun sets and hopefully your mother will as well.”

Nathaniel headed to where he and Emilia worked with other engineers along the alley he lived. Outside, the neighborhood children laughed as they huddled in the snow mimicking Wolfmourne soldiers who often gunned down revolutionaries. “Down with you scum!” one of the children shouted, throwing a snowball at the other side.

Seeing the gameplay through a window, Anna and Antonin hurried and slipped on their gloves, buttoned their boots, and prepared for war, leaving the remnants of their breakfast on the table:

“Hold fast, Anna! I’ll avenge you!” Antonin exclaimed, fighting for his side of the alley until the tower bell chimed eleven times. The sound of rotary engines bounced off the walls, vibrating through their bones. The children moved out of the way for the first wave of the Asquith Fleet. The faded image of an owl and a wolf together in harmony as it returned grime-covered workers and engineers home. Anna and Antonin watched the newly returned embrace their friends, lovers, and children—while the siblings searched for their mother. She was not on the first ride home. A young worker approached them and kindly asked, “Are you looking for someone?”

“It’s our mum. Have you seen her anywhere?” Anna asked.

The worker chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, this is only the first wave. The rest of the feet will return, I promise.” The worker popped his collar and left the children alone as the empty transport-cars drove away. The alley was stripped from any children as tufts of snow gently fell on Anna and Antonin. They saw their friends hug and kiss their returned parents, and hope came upon Anna because she knew that she and Antonin would soon be doing the same.

“Antonin, I know what we can do now,” Anna said. “Let’s make a lady out of snow! We can build it in the backyard where no one will bother us.”

“Yeah! We’ll surprise Mum and Dad when they get home too!” Antonin exclaimed, smiling the pair entered their yard through the gate and quickly started piling snow.

The tower bell chimed four times, creeping through the shadows of Snowdrift’s steam-cloaked horizon bringing with it the second wave. The siblings put their final touches on the snowlady. Anna gave her eyes of broken glass and a smile from the shards of scrap metal she found on the street while Antonin watched the alley, waiting for his mother’s return.

“I hear them, Anna! The next wave is coming!” Antonin exclaimed, slamming the gate open as Anna trailed behind him, bolstering with excitement. The second wave came and the sibling’s smiles faded away as workers and engineers arrived in tattered, bloodied bandages. Some were amputees, and others had partially thick burn scars covering parts of their body all looking away from the open carriages full of caskets that left a stench of dry rot and sulfur. The next car behind was packed with more caskets as Nathaniel returned home and saw his children watching the second wave move along without stopping. He neared his children; the tears that fell from their eyes gnawed Nathaniel at his heart. He bent down and said to them both: “Do you want to tell me what you did today?”

Anna and Antonin nodded, while Anna perked her head up slowly: “We built a lady in the snow, Dad. It’s in the backyard, do you want to see it?”

Nathaniel forced a smile and nodded. Together, the trio admired the snowlady in the glory of the afternoon sun, which showed through the smog that often choked the frigid air around them. Minutes later, Antonin heard another rotary engine in the distance and ran into the alley shouting: “It’s mum, she’s come home!”

Anna and Nathaniel trailed behind while the sound of the engine edged closer. The last wave of the Asquith Fleet had arrived! Together they awaited Emilia’s return and cheered as the transport-car approached. The car had no passengers on it except for an informant from the Wolfmourne Company, who was dressed in the standard ebony coat given to all employees. He was tall, grizzled, and spoke with confidence: “It’s Liron, correct?”

Nathaniel nodded as he slowly embraced Anna and Antonin. What is this? He thought, trying to force himself to speak: “Yes, it is. Where is Emilia Liron?”

“Dead,” the informant said, pulling out an envelope from his pocket as Nathaniel blinked and thought, Supervisor Crowen wasn’t wrong when he said that the Wolfmourne Company doesn’t waste time. Anna looked at the informant, her lips trembling as she resisted the urge to vomit while Antonin stared blankly at his stoic face. The informant continued: “This envelope contains twenty-thousand dollars with respect from the Wolfmourne Company and Mrs. Liron’s service.” It took a moment for the news to register before Nathaniel slowly raised his hand to take the envelope. His eyes unmoving from the Wolfmourne insignia and motto, We are born, stamped on its front. Tears began to form when he asked, “Was her body among the second wave? Did the fleet finish construction on the new town?”

“We were unable to recover Mrs. Liron’s body,” the informant replied, as Anna heaved forward—vomiting on the floor before running back into the alley-house crying. Antonin did the only thing he could. He returned inside to write in his small black notebook, leaving Nathaniel with the informant. Anna wailed desperately for her mother to come home.

The informant continued: “Under oath, I cannot say anything about progress on the construction site. All I can say is this alley has been marked off the list.”

“Marked off? But this alley has at least a ten-thousand residents waiting to be relocated!” Nathaniel exclaimed.

The informant tipped his hat and replied: “And I have ten-thousand more to tell the same. Thank you for your service to the Wolfmourne Company, sir.”

He returned to his car, leaving Nathaniel in the snow, money in hand. Back in his bedroom, Antonin switched on the light as a single tear fell. He finally figured out the last line of his story, “The frost shall soon come and sing its lonely song.”