Day Seven: Chilblain - Cold Snap

Chilblain

Definition

: an inflammatory swelling or sore caused by exposure (as of the feet or hands) to cold

The Kingdom of Alvos had always been regarded as a rather peculiar little kingdom by other nations.
Sure, we were small and somewhat isolated from everyone else due to the surrounding mountains,
which of course meant our cultural and technological development was slightly different to everyone
else (in my opinion our technology was leagues beyond what everyone else was doing but our ruling
monarch thought that was wisest to keep to ourselves The majority of the population agreed. War was
such a drag after all and no one really wanted the resulting hassle of ruling the backward countries we
would have crushed and conquered.) 

However, what really struck the people as peculiar (even more so than our national product being
trees) was how our seasons worked. 

From what I could figure out, for other countries an invisible force seemed to regularly drain and
replenish the life force from the earth - growing plants and then killing them, turning leaves brown etc,
sprouting new buds and instruct water, snow and ice to pour from the sky one season and then heat
the air the next - with no indication or warning of what it would do next, occasionally completely
irrespective of what season it was supposed to be. It all sounded extremely disorganised to me. 

In Alvos, all climate, weather and seasonal attributes were managed by our trees. On the first day of
each quarter, fruits would ripen and fall from the tree, revealing small creatures.

In spring we had green hedgehogs, with flowers blooming in their long spines, which rambled the
countryside, greenery following in their wake as and the blossoms and plants wake from their winter
sleep, called into being by the hedgehogs song.

In summer we had red butterflies, heatwaves shimmering around their wings as they spread dry heat
and brilliant sunshine when they flew about the country. 

In autumn we had brown, russet, golden and black birds. The first three flew about at the beginning of
autumn, ripening the harvest. The black birds only flew in the last week of autumn, turning the leaves,
tucking the animals and vegetation away to sleep with their dark lullabies. Superstition had it that you
would also fall into hibernation as well for winter if you listened to their song, even now some people
still wore ear plugs for the last week of autumn. 

In winter, the trees, the only fruit now left hanging on their skeletal branches was for the last avatars of
the year. The only creatures that had no other normal animal counterpart. We called them Chilblains. 

The Chilblains were small, white animals - about the same size as a hedgehog and also moved along
the ground - we assume on feet but no one was quite sure. 

They  looked like soft, moving white balls of fur with brilliant crystalised blue eyes. All winter, they move
d about with vigorous energy, like bouncing snowballs they ricocheted amongst the trees, causing
frost, ice and snow in their path. They emitted a dense cold aura, so that anyone who spotted a group
of them huddled together would immediately change direction. The cold they emitted as a group was
just too harsh for living things. 

Occasionally, a swarm of them could be seen on the horizon, heading towards the nearest town. At
that point we would batten down the hatches and prepare as much as possible for the blizzard that
would be following behind them. 

Yet, having avatars for our seasons meant that it was very easy to plan around them. They were
consistent, not above accepting the odd treat and staying in one place longer than originally planned
so your harvest/wedding/party would be blessed with appropriate weather. 

Sneaky treats aside, it was forbidden, with a sentence of capital punishment, to interfere or harm the
avatars in any way, shape or form. In our opinion, they were a direct manifestation of the seasons and
mother earth and to go against them would be to go against nature herself and that could clearly only
end badly for the rest of us. 

Not that an Alvostian would ever consider harming one of the Avatars. We cherished them and they
were the pride of our small nation. 

However, as with everything in life, outsiders automatically believed that they were outside our law. 

The Avatars, being unique to our country, were a source of endless fascination to outsiders. Indeed,
we did quite a prosperous tourist trade on the first day of every season with people from all over the
world coming to marvel at them. Every tourist was made to sign a waiver that stated they would not
touch, approach, harm or steal the Avatars. In big bold letters it stated that anyone caught harming or
stealing the Avatars would face immediate execution. No trial, no chance for a plea bargain, we would
shoot you then and there be you a beggar or a king. No exceptions. 

Of course, there are always some who struggle to believe that some things in this life can’t be owned.
That there are beings who are not, and will never be, considered property.

The government received endless requests to be allowed to take an avatar from the country, as part
of a private collection, a public exhibition in a zoo, as part of a scientific study, as part of a meteorology
study - from kings, queens, rock stars, scientists, biologists, tv networks - the list went on and on.
Every time the government said no. No, they are not ours, they do not belong to us, you may not take
them from their home without their permission to do with as you please. No. 

Some people just heard the ‘they do not belong to us’ part and assumed that they didn’t need to ask
for permission.

That’s where my department came in. The Avatar Rangers. We were organised for the sole protection
of the Avatars from poachers and I was proud of my role.  

Mostly we patrolled the borders and caught poachers trying to sneak into the country, or caught them
at the border entries with falsified documents. Attempted poaching was not punishable by death but it
did result in a hefty fine, a long prison sentence in which country they originated from and a lifetime
ban from Alvos. 

Very, very rarely, a very few snuck by us and managed to get their greedy hands on one of our Avatars.

There was a reason that our government brutally and bluntly enforced an immediate death penalty on
anyone caught trying to steal one. Immediate execution, followed by immediate cremation. No body,
no evidence. 

Humans have a funny reaction to anything they perceive as a threat you see, unless they grew up with
it from the start. No Alvostian would see the consequences as anything other ‘you get what you
deserve’. 

Outsiders, though, outsiders can be tricky and easily frightened and when frightened they tend to react
in an aggressive, genocidal way.  

We didn’t need to protect the Avatars. They could protect themselves. 

On the rare occasions a poacher slipped our net and made a grab for one, they were dead before we
could even get there. 

One who had tried to snatch one of the green hedgehogs had been discovered after some effort. His
body had been broken and stretched with flowers and hawthorn bushes that had broken through his
skin from the outside. 

Another who had tried to collect the beautiful summer butterflies had been found completely
desiccated - all moisture evaporated from his body.

Those who had gone after the Autumn birds, their bodies were discovered withered and decayed,
turning into mulch at the touch of a finger. 

It was the winter Chilblains however, that were the most aggressive. 

If they saw someone who shouldn't be in their territory, they would go up and investigate. It was then
that most poachers made a fatal mistake. They would reach down to grab them.

Chilblains may look soft and fluffy, but what made up that fluffy appearance was a constantly spinning
vortex of ice crystals. Their bodies were tiny, tiny ice storms. Touch them for a second and you’d
instantly lose your hand to frostbite, if you were lucky. 

The person i was looking at now had clearly not been lucky. The radio at my hip buzzed with static and
I pulled it up to answer. 

“Yup, found him just where the kid said he’d be. Why don’t these cretins ever learn?”

Another buzz of incoherent static.

“No, there’s no way to get him back to base, he must have pissed one off so badly a whole group
attacked.” I kicked the edge of the frozen human softly and part of him crumbled apart into ice dust
with a musical tinkle.

Judging by the look on his face - and the fact that different parts of him were different frozen hues, i’d
said the Chilblains had taken their time running him down. He would have felt it painfully as different
parts of him froze solid when they bit into him. The cold would have been so extreme it would have felt
like fire. 

They would let him eventually die when they got bored - maybe when his vocal cords froze up. 

Luckily the Chilblains froze living things so perfectly that they became as fragile as crystal, so it was
easy to break the bodies down into crystalline dust which would melt as soon as spring came. 

I sighed as i started kicking the body into pieces indistinguishable from the snow gently falling around
me. 

Alvostians, at least, knew not to mess with Mother Nature.