(Part five.)

Kalinka Violet in "Silent Night"

And still, the snow falls. I look around me. Dead faces only. No one has spoken for hours. No one has said a word since they looked at each other and someone whispered "Black" under their breath. Everyone knows. Everyone knows that somehow, she caused all of this. And now, everyone is afraid to speak her name. Everyone is afraid to speak her name, lest she appear again and destroy what little happiness remains in this night.
The snow continues to fall. The wind, too, has become silent. It knows. It feels that something is about to happen. The snow falls, still. I stare out the window at it. I stare at the falling white flakes. They are the only thing, it seems, that is not held in suspended animation now. The only thing moving. The only thing that still lives.
I move away from the window and sit in the circle, around the ripped scarf, with the others. I was amazed at how important this small piece of clothing had become in such a short period of time. I was amazed, but I did not question the attention the others were paying to it.
Some wiped tears from their eyes. Some had already bowed their heads and decided to begin mourning.
The snow continued.
I wondered, too, where Marr Vell was. I wondered, but I did not think he was gone long enough to assume that he was dead.
No. He could not be dead.
He was not dead but, I thought as I looked out the window, he may be trapped in the snowstorm that was gathering its strength outside. The scarf may not be his, but he could be in a new sort of trouble now.
Perhaps the mourning was justified.
All were silent. All were silent but I felt the strangest power in the room. The most unique sort of tension that I have ever felt in my life. A tension that felt as if each person in the room wanted to open their mouths and begin singing. Not singing out of sadness or of joy. But just singing. Singing out of confusion. Singing, because they simply do not know what else to do.
Part of me wanted to join them.
Part of me wanted to start by opening my mouth and letting whatever sounds, whatever emotions escape and fill the silence that was quickly filling the room. The silence was gaining space. We all knew that it was becoming solid around us. It was slowly filling the air and choking us and our tiny vigil out of existence. We all knew.
We all knew that soon she would be here.
The snow swirled outside. I felt convinced that, even if Marr did not die, what was about to come would be much worse and that maybe it would have been better if he had died.
I pondered this as I stared at the Christmas tree that sat in the corner of the room. Its brilliant red and gold and blue and green lights flickered, unwatched.
Soon, this would be resolved. Soon, she would be here.
Soon, there would be nothing.
I felt fearful in this growing silence and turned my head towards the window, but the quietly deepening snow outside was no comfort.
Where was he?
Where?
Soon.