text: What had happened to her master? This question was the obsession of Thalia’s mind as she watched the sunset fall beneath the horizon. Her name was Verna, and she had come to Thalia at a time when she had lost faith with the world around her. Thalia had grown up in Manhattan and had a nervous habit of letting her thoughts wander from one social issue to the next. Her mother, who saw only what she wanted to see, would always chastise Thalia for the failings she had in school as a result of this. At all of these chastisings would be a further disconnect between Thalia and her mother, and Thalia’s seeing her mother as more of a shadow than a person. She believed her mother had once had the same thoughts as herself, but now after working a nine to five job for two decades, those thoughts no longer existed; and Thalia believed after she worked a nine to five job for two decades, her’s wouldn’t either. Verna came to her then. She had roses growing from her hair and sunlight shining from within her complexion. She was the goddess of spring, and with her help -- being similar to Thalia in many ways -- Thalia had the chance to be happy as a ward beneath Verna’s service. When they weren’t fulfilling their duties, which only had to be done throughout one quarter of the year, they busied themselves as sisters to all sorts of antics and hijinks. They gossiped, they made hideouts, they kept diaries, they swapped dreams and ambitions and all sorts of things. They even told each other secrets. which was Thalia’s favorite part. Oftentimes Verna and Thalia would visit the other seasons and their wards to go to human diners or have picnics with each other, often discussing the world and how its goings-ons. On one of these picnics Thalia was introduced to Pagonio, who had become the ward of Psychra the goddess of winter and death. She introduced herself to him despite the longsword at his hip and layers of armor adorning him and he responded with a smile and nod. If it weren’t for his appearance, she would have never guessed him to be a warrior. After this picnic as Verna and Thalia headed back to their home, Thalia’s eyes met Verna’s. It was the winter season and Thalia had been Verna’s ward for some time, so seeing a furrowed brow when spring was just upon them concerned the young girl. Verna felt herself being analyzed and masked her face with the youthful expressions Thalia knew her for. “Friends stick together no matter what, okay.” Thalia nodded her head in compliance but felt long forgotten feelings well up inside her. As the sun knelt beneath the horizon and the question of her master’s whereabouts echoed within her mind, Thalia felt the cold of winter assault her from outside the open window. She looked upon the fields and a blizzard of hail and snow appeared from nowhere and consumed the blossoming flowers of spring. Trudging through the tempest was the shadow of the warrior she had met mere weeks before. From her master’s keep she could see his face holding steadfast against the winds and hail buffeting his body, as if he felt nothing. As she opened the door to allow him and the screams of freezing wind inside, he spoke. “Your master, what secrets did she share with you?” This confused Thalia. Of all the things he could have said regarding the events transpiring, what he chose made the least sense to her. What did a goddess of spring have to do with a blizzard? Besides, Verna was her friend and their secrets were theirs to share with each other and nobody else. Her silence seemed to anger Pagonio. “Winter has gone mad, and no one is around to control it! Where has Verna taken my master?” His face contorted with fury as he spoke. What seemed so obvious to him was lost on Thalia, evident by the worry on her face. He seemed to notice this as he spoke softer. “I don’t understand it either, but it must be. Her duty is to counterbalance winter and summer as well as manage spring, but she is nowhere to be found now. Please help me.” As thoughts to the variety of futures that might occur consumed her mind, Thalia gritted her teeth as a tear streamed down her face. “Promise me you won’t hurt her and I’ll do what you want.” The young man’s pale face softened as his eyes tired with sadness. “Aye. I can do that.” At first, she had no idea where her master might be, but upon being told she might have a prisoner with her, there was only one place to look. As the two hiked through the ocean of snow and hail, reaching a cave they had to dig an opening into, they at last found their bounty within the dungeon. At the sight waiting for them, Pagonio abandoned any promises he made and rushed towards Verna with his sword drawn. Deafened to Thalia’s screams of protests, he lopped off her head and put an end to her rebellion. As the blizzard began to clear up outside, Thalia looked upon the sight of her master. Tears had streamed down her face while she was looking upon a television screen. Upon it flashed images of factories spewing smoke and forests being leveled. While tears were present, her face had hardened. The sunlight that had once poured from her complexion was gone. The roses that grew from her hair had now lost their petals in place of more thorns. In her hand was a dagger made from tempered bark and dripping a golden fluid. From within the cell beside her with a slice across her throat was the goddess of winter. As she watched the television, a smile had grown on her face as blizzards blanketed what appeared on screen. In her heart of hearts, Thalia knew she would not have allowed life to perish. However a culling of sorts had become necessary in her eyes. Spring is the season of rebirth after all, which must be preceded by death.