The Rebel Faction

The search took perhaps longer than he had expected, but with the sun creeping down in the sky Aleister at last found a truly ideal location. No windy lean-to or half-sheltered ice shelf, just barely hidden off the narrow path was an obvious shelter cut into the rock. It extended back far enough to provide critical cover from the wind, although it was close enough to the surface to let sunlight and fresh air in. Hard-pack snow formed thick walls and tapered into several smaller chambers near the back. It was clear they would not be the first to camp there.

Somehow sensing that his search was complete, Dolash appeared, clambering quickly over the rocky path to join his student. You have found our first shelter. Good. He shooed Aleister inside, well-timed as a strong, icy gust blew by.

Now protected from the harsh edge of the elements, the pair were safe once more to resume meditation. For those who are so attuned, there is no need for sleep, only meditation. It is not the same, but trusting one's well-being to the Force can sustain one's life in all manner of unnatural conditions. Mediate now in our newfound peace, and know rest.

Aleister's waking was well-timed. As he looked around for a way to slake his thirst and hunger, a faint, cold, dribble landed on his face. A puddle had formed next to him, into which a slow but steady stream of drops fell. Looking up, the hard-packed snow that formed the roof glistened with half-melted droplets.

Dolash still sat nearby, his back ramrod straight, his eyes closed. The light of dawn was just now filtering through the snowy peaks of the mountain range, alighting upon icicles and snow-drifts and giving the grey-white world a golden sheen. It was a sight to warm the heart, and with the wind dying down perhaps the rest of the body as well.

It was not one to put food in bellies, however, and though the water dribbling out of the roof might slake thirst, it would not quell hunger. The food cave wasn't far up the mountain, though, and it offered the only relief the world seemed to have available - delicious lichen.

As Aleister lost himself in reflection, a faint cracking noise from above began to sound. That faint trickle of water from earlier had grown, growing larger as wet cracks formed in the slushy hard-pack. Small chunks of snow dislodged and fell to the floor of the cave, coinciding with fresh cracks shooting through the ceiling.

In a split-second, the cave began to collapse on top of them. The snow fell through in huge blocks, filling up the entrance and crashing down on their heads. Dolash made no move, seemingly feeling no snowy blow as he was buried neck-deep and deeper. Aleister himself was simply too far from the cave entrance, the snow-quake falling upon them too swifty, to make an escape.

Mere moments and it was over. Where there had once been a secure cave there was now a solid plug of snow, the drifts settling down on top of the little living-space and burying any within under miles-deep columns of winter's weight.

So focused was Aleister on his task, so concentrated was he, that when he felt a touch upon his shoulder he surely would have leapt from his skin were he not pinned in place with snow.

It was Dolash, who had hardly moved from his spot except to burrow a hand clean through to Aleister. He patted Aleister firmly on the shoulder. Let go, Aleister. Let the snow fall. Close your eyes and concentrate. Know peace.

The snow around the entrance was moving, that was so, but fresh drifts were threatening to form above. Treacherous ice that had seemed solid as stone on days previous was now run through with cracks and icicles the length of spears were poised overhead, ready to fall. If they meant to escape using the Force there might only be a window of a few moments where it could be possible before all the snow and ice above comes thundering down, yet still there was Dolash's reassuring hand on his shoulder. Do not fight. Know peace.

The thundering of the falling snow grew quieter as it piled higher on their heads. Buried, neither Dolash nor Aleister could move an inch. Yet they were not simply crushed - the snow packed in quickly around them and stopped - why? Was it the Force? Or was it simply something mundane, like there not being quite enough snow piled up to crush them?

Utterly enveloped in cold and stuck in place, the meditative trance the two had been practicing for hours on end came almost unbidden. It was either that or freeze to death. By releasing themselves from conscious concerns, the weight of the snow seemed to be lifted from their shoulders and the cold could not rightly touch them. It was like a dream, but more relaxed, more restful.

Here Aleister experienced true sustenance, unlike the dry struggle he had experienced in his earlier meditations. They could not escape, but there was no desire to. There was only peace, and a submission to the will of the Force. It bade them stay where they were, embrace their icey cocoon, and forget the temporal troubles that beset them.

They could hear the whisper of the mountain spirits like a voice from another room, muffled and detached. Yet these voices melted away, forgotten as they sunk further into trance. They could hear the latent murmurs of the Force, but this voice too faded, too loud, too fast, for their ears. Even the beat of their own hearts slowed and faded, becoming quiet, until at last all was at rest. Stillness bred sustenance.