For once, a warmth was finally reaching a face of a man, previously collapsed on the snowy plains in the middle of nowhere. His consciousness was still pretending to be dead, but soon enough body caught the blazing heat coming from the fireplace nearby. Its peaceful cracks were echoing through the room, meaning his presence inside some kind of house. Soon enough, his eyes were open and he witnessed a wooden ceiling as well as the surrounding warmth. But the most surprising part was the lack of any pain around the body, considering he was steps away from hypothermia, even the throat which was repeatedly blasted with freezing air was in perfect condition.
"Finally awake?"
Suddenly spread out the voice of the unknown, its high pitch hinted at the stranger being a woman, but more importantly a human.
"Who are you?" asked the man whilst rotating his head. He finally noticed her, a figure with snow-white hair and a plain dress, sitting in an armchair beside the impressive fireplace. She was not looking at the man but instead was drilling through the book she was holding. Even though the light from the fire was able to reveal her outline, the man still was not able to see the title of the book.
The woman ignored his question and the man wondered: "Are you a ghost of some sort?" and all she did was outstretch her hand and continue reading. At least her overhearing him was clear!
Since the man was not able to get his answers verbally, he tried to get up but right away fell back on the sofa. His body was fully exhausted.
"And that's it, you sure are the impatient one. Your body is still too weak to move." proclaimed the woman, put her book on the book table and got up. She was not too tall compared to the man, but because he was residing in the bed, all he could do was jerk his head in order to better examine her face. Nothing, in particular, caught the attention of the man, only the crystal-clear tiredness and a silver necklace around her neck.
"So, who are you?" repeated the man the question which the woman met with a smile.
"My name was long ago erased from history, leaving no trace of my existence, however, those unfortunate ones I am taking care of are often referring to me as a Witch. Can I learn the name of an unfortunate victim of Northern Greenland?"
"My name is Oliver… You want to tell me you are a witch?"
"Indeed I am."
Her casual answer left the man dumbfounded. He jerked his head to the ceiling, "So am I dead?"
"Previously on the verge of it, but now its embrace is behind."
"I do not understand anything," whispered Oliver and covered his face with his hands. This made him realize that the majority of heat around his body was coming not from the fireplace but from the body itself. He had a fever and quite a strong one.
"You do not need to, rest is the only thing prescribed for you, dear Oliver," smiled the witch and outstretched her arm towards a mug on the book table, "As well as the water."
Oliver snatched the mug from the withes hands and chugged down all the liquid at once without questioning its contents. Immediately after, Oliver began to cough from the unexpected bitterness in the texture.
"What did you make drink?"
"You drank it yourself, silly, but do not worry. These are medical herbs for recovery and well sleep."
Oliver did not have a choice but to trust the gal, in the end, he had to be dead, under the fresh snow. There would not be any reason to help him if the witch would be indulged in harmful thoughts.
"Why did you save me?"
"Because I could."
This short answer was dissatisfying to Oliver, he tried to look her in the eyes, but the picture of the world was blurry and soon totally dark. Once again, his consciousness dived deep into the dream world but now due to the effect of the witch's herbs.
"Good night, Oliver, we will have plenty of time for chatting after your recovery."