Hibernation, interrupted.

It was the unholy wailing that woke the witch up. She waited for it to stop but it just went on and on.

She mumbled out curses, reluctantly opening her eyes. Her breath fogged up the crystal's inner surface, and part of the witch purred, Just sleep, it'll stop eventually.

But it didn't, and the crying was intolerable on the witch's sensitive ears. She was more used to the gentle gossiping of trees or the civilized words of people, not this incessant bleating.

The witch tried to get up, then swore loudly when she smacked her head on the top of the crystal coffin. It took a moment for the witch to remember, she was in a crystal coffin because...

Esmeralda frowned. Because? Something pulled at the very edges of her memory. Prophecy, heir, death. Oh yeah, run-of-the-mill witch stuff.

She was in a crystal coffin to wait out the next hundred years until the prophecy started so she could guide the heir of the Sun.

Esmeralda flopped back down. Well, no need to get up now then, she was fairly certain a hundred years couldn't have passed already.

The wailing paused, and Esmeralda waited with bated breath. Was it over?

It started up again, somehow even more pitiful and whiny.

For the love of Merlot-oops, Merlin. The witch rolled her eyes, wiping a hand over the crystal surface and murmuring, "Shatter!"

The crystal exploded away and Esmeralda smirked. More of the prophecy was coming back to her. King Alastair had told her to conserve her powers, build them in a slumber for a hundred years.

Then...Esmeralda frowned again, forcing her shaky arms to push her up. Oh, what the hell was it? She shifted again and heard some crinkling.

A quick inspection of her pockets revealed some parchment and a note written in ridiculously loopy lettering.

"Is that an s or a d?" Esmeralda scowled, turning the paper to read. "When you...get up, idiot...you won't know much. Hm, someone planned ahead." She stuffed the note back in her pocket. First, she'd investigate the crying, and then the note.

Getting out of the coffin was not easy. It required quite a lot of falling over, avoiding sharp crystal shards, and cursing.

The witch's face burned with embarrassment and she was very glad nobody was here to watch this nonsense.

Esmeralda, Grand Witch of the Empire, struggling to get out of bed.

Finally, she managed to crawl over to a wall and pick herself up. She'd never been much of an athlete, preferring to use brooms to travel, and the sleep for how many ever years clearly took its toll.

Esmeralda flung open the door, and wind, icy wind rushed in fiercely, and the witch slammed the door shut again.

"Seriously?" She shook her head, back pressed to the shaking door. Zephyr, master of winds hated her, and no doubt he'd never leave now.

Maybe the baby would just die, and she could find a way to fix the coffin somehow.

One look at the thing made it clear that the coffin was not about to fix itself. Shards had embedded themselves into the roof, walls, and millions of tiny crystals lay strewn on the floor.

An army of dwarves couldn't fix this.

Esmeralda scanned the cottage. It was thickly covered in dust, and already in the beginning stages of ruin. According to the prophecy, a hundred years from now, the heir of Sun, would stumble upon a witch in the woods.

Depending on how long she'd slept, she could survive the next fifty years, and be a useless wreck.

Esmeralda shook her head irritatedly. She'd think about that later. She marched over to the table and blew the dust off her fur coat, wondering who'd remembered to leave it here.

Once it was snug around her shoulders, she breathed in deep and opened the door.

The wind screamed as it rushed in, content to make the dust fly and rattle the crystal shards.

"By the Gods, Zephyr, hasn't our feud expired yet?" Esmeralda cried, pushing past it to leave the house. Oh, how she hated waking up! Especially in the godforsaken winter.

She passed rows of trees petrified with ice, trees that had been mere saplings when she'd first entered the coffin.

"How long has it been?" She asked, pressing her palms to one tree trunk.

Nothing. The trees were asleep like she should be.

She continued marching, catching the dying sobs of an infant, and then her sharp nose detected blood.

Lots of blood. Esmeralda groaned and broke into a miserable jog.

Zephyr cackled in her ears, and Esmerald swore at him, stopping after five seconds to catch her breath.

"I was in a coma, idiot." She muttered, cheeks somehow warm and frozen at the same time.

Then she came upon the carnage.

A large, imperial-looking carriage had smashed up against a grove of conifers, deep brown grooves in the snow trailing behind it.

Dead horses had been impaled on tree branches, and wolves devoured their bodies.

Soldiers lay all over the ground, wearing either dark violet or proud blue uniforms.

The wolves had started on them too, one ripping away at the neck of a fallen soldier.

The wolves paused briefly as she approached, looking up.

One glare from the witch, horribly out of shape and ruffled as she was, prevented them from trying anything.

Esmeralda's lip curled as she surveyed the damage, and a wolf ran up to her, yipping and whining.

"I'm looking for a little one? It might've died already?" Esmeralda asked, sighing tiredly.

The wolf ran up to the bent and broken carriage door, pouncing up at the handle unsuccessfully.

"Many thanks, friend." Esmeralda tipped her head and shooed him away. "All of you, did you see what happened?" She shouted, pulling at the door.

A chorus of growls and blood-soaked grunts responded. The carriage was attacked, the humans fought. Wolves couldn't name the colours, so they didn't tell her who started it.

"And who killed the humans?" Esmeralda narrowed her eyes on the door and the hinges melted away, allowing her to pull the door off.

The wolves didn't answer, returning to feast.

There was a man inside the carriage, eyes bloody and hands singed.

Esmeralda sniffed the air. Witchling. He'd used his powers and clearly killed himself doing it.

She had no idea who this was. At all. A baby was cooing and gasping in the corner, shielded below the bleeding body of a dead woman.

Esmeralda gently tugged it out from under its mother. "Why shut up now, after you've already disturbed my sleep?" She rocked it a little, bringing it under her furs.

The baby's nose was a little red so Esmeralda cast a gentle warming charm.

"Who are you?" She asked under her breath, fumbling with fingers clumsy with cold to retrieve the note.

She read aloud, eyes straining to decipher the letters. "When you get off your ass-" Clearly the court physician wrote this. "You should know that King Alastair is dead, his son Darius will be dead, and Darius' aged offspring shall be there to aid you in locating the heir." The witch remembered that Alastair's family always dressed in deep purples. Violet, bright purple, glowing dark colours that washed out their pale, pale skin.

The dead man's hand was in the corner of her eye, loosely clenched, just barely reaching out to her. His ring was Alastair's.

Well, well.

Esmeralda properly looked at the man on the ground. Technically her son. Darius didn't look anything like her now, just ashen with death.

She supposed his dark eyes were hers, or maybe the amber tint of his skin.

"Hmm." The witch pondered this, rocking the cooing child. "So you must be my grandchild." She peered down at the child. She definitely hadn't slept long enough.

By the most generous of estimates, Darius was one when she entered the coffin, and he was now in his late thirties. The child was merely a baby. Close to being a toddler. 

The witch frowned, trying to do the math. Forty-ish years? That was not good. Seven hells.

"Oh, you obnoxious creature." She whispered to the baby, who was sneezing when the furs tickled its nose.

She looked down again, at her son, Darius. He must have been in grave danger to risk running to her.

And he didn't make it.

She wondered what Darius had known about her. Just a mysterious, fated protector who'd emerge past his lifetime? Or as his mother?

Well, she'd hoped to never meet him, thinking he'd be dead when she emerged. Not dead because she wasn't there.

Esmeralda cleared her throat, blinking back tears as she considered the crumpled note again.

King Vander, the owner of the blue soldiers, must have been trying to influence the prophecy. No, not Vander, but whoever had come after him.

The witch played with the baby's plump hand. Maybe it was better she was awake now? She could keep Darius's child alive, guarantee that it survived according to the prophecy.

The witch frowned. But who would help the Heir of Sun then?

It had to be a witch, specifically the most powerful witch of Alastair's time.

Which was her.

The baby cooed, making the most stupid sounds. It didn't seem particularly alarmed that both its parents were dead.

"I need tea to think." The witch groaned and wondered if someone had left forty-year-old tea leaves somewhere in the cottage. "And I need to do something about you."

The witch cast one last look around the carriage and gathered things she'd need to prove the baby's heritage. Gently, she slipped off Alastair's ring from Darius's stiff fingers.

"I am sorry. It wasn't supposed to go like this." She whispered and looked away from Darius's lifeless, dull brown eyes.

She wondered briefly who his wife had been; a pretty, light-haired woman who had clearly cared for her child. Esmeralda hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed with her.

The baby's blanket had a name Esmeralda didn't bother reading as she picked it, and other official-looking documents up.

Then, burdened down with a baby and some stolen royal items, she left the carriage.

Winter crows had joined the wolves now, and they all paused in their activities when she emerged.

The small grey wolf from before came up to her, whining to eat the child.

"No." Esmeralda snapped, dismissing it, then considered her options.

She cast a spell on the crow. "Go to the kingdom where everyone wears purple, violet, whatever. Tell them what happened here." The crow shrieked as it changed, becoming larger, its black colour leeching away into bright lavender. Its throat changed too with a crack.

"Understood." The crow shrieked, and then flapped away, making the snow dance.

"Zephyr, for once, leave my birds alone." The witch shouted into the air.

The wind chuckled playfully, rattling the trees.

Esmeralda rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this!"

Next, she turned to the wolves.

The charm would've cost her blood before, but after sleeping for so long? It washed over the wolves in moments, changing them to human.

The human-wolves cried out, unable to speak just yet.

Esmeralda winced. "Okay, okay, relax! You'll all turn back when the moon is full." She gently rocked the baby, who was making demanding noises. "Not now, you little tyrant."

The human-wolves didn't look pleased.

"Listen, you need to help me, okay? I promise to turn you back later. I need help guarding the cottage, and some of you, need to go to the village. Get me supplies, goats, food, tea. Who here knows what tea is?"

The human-wolves glared at her darkly, no recognition on their faces.

Esmeralda huffed. "We'll work on expressions later." She addressed their leaders, Akani and Milak. "I will owe you if you do this."

The pair shared looks and then nodded.

"Thank you." The witch said automatically, relieved. 

Akani growled something, that sounded terrifying in human vocals but would've been kinder as a wolf.

"Yes, the baby is mine now. Technically-ugh, no." Esmeralda decided against sharing the weird love pentangle she had going with the old dead king. The wolves wouldn't get it anyways. "Can you go to the village? And don't be shocked if they start screaming..you're all...naked."

The wolves didn't get that either.

Esmeralda shook her head, making some gold from dirt and handing it to Akani. "You'll find out soon enough."

Milak told some of them to follow the witch home and Akani and he led some others east.

"It's on both legs now, you can't run like you used to!" Esmeralda shouted, fighting back laughter, watching some truly amusing wipeouts in the snow.

She also didn't bother thanking them. That was something else wolves wouldn't get.

The wolves set off, and Esmeralda led the rest of them back to the cottage.

She tossed them some other furs lying around the cottage, biting her tongue as they sneezed.

I hope you don't trick them as you did me. Zephyr said viciously, curling around them.

She ignored him, telling the wolves to wait outside while she got the baby settled in the crystal coffin.

Depressing as far as a nursery went, but hopefully enough to survive.

It giggled when she gently touched its nose with her finger, still wrapped up in blankets.

"You are so cute. It's almost worth destroying the future over." Esmeralda told it. "But not worth waking up, you little beast. You're so loud!"

The baby didn't reply, just made more stupid cooing and oohing sounds.

"You're so dumb." Esmeralda informed it. "Darius was very clever you know? His dad and mom were clever, and I was clever, so obviously. Even when he was one, he was really smart."

The baby made no indication it understood.

Esmeralda sighed, climbing into the crystal coffin next to it. "I hate you."

Well, the feeling is mutual, everyone hates you too. Zephyr informed her, sneaking in from the sides of the door.

"Shut up." The witch groaned, watching Zephyr make the crystal shards dance for the baby. The little traitor laughed at that. "You know how nice it was in the coffin? Silent without your obnoxiousness."

Now bury yourself six feet under and I promise not to say a word. The wind replied, winning their battle. This time.

"Why did I wake up?" The witch mumbled, feeling her eyes start to close. "I hope the wolves wake me up when they get back."

They look much better this way. Zephyr declared.

"Oh ew, Zephyr. Also, I'll tell them what you did to your last lover if you don't leave them alone." The witch warned, keeping her eyes shut.

How will you tell anyone anything if you can't breathe?

"Can we argue about this, in like, two hours?" The witch rolled over. "Bye."

That baby is gonna cry in five minutes. Zephyr said gleefully. I hope you enjoy never sleeping again.

The witch cursed. Goddamnit, she should've stayed asleep.