Sleep Deep And Be Called

20260120

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 8” event.

I wake in a jolt, mid-step, my limbs flailing as my body struggles with maintaining balance while transitioning to consciousness. It’s just like the others described. Which means I’ve fallen victim to the curse, despite having avoided contact with everyone. Is there no escape?
A concern for later. More pressingly, where am I?
Winter dawn’s grainy light doesn’t illuminate much. I’m deep in the woods, wrapped up in the heavy garments I’ve been sleeping in, just in case. But I’ve somehow lost my clogs. My bare feet are bleeding, though not badly.
I look around again, this time examining the ground in hopes of seeing my clogs stuck in mud or similar, and see movement behind a bush.
“Nathan? You too?”
Ah. Roger was the first to fall victim. We didn’t realise it was a curse then, it being that he’s always been known to walk in his sleep - though never before had he left his house during, and we were alarmed that he hadn’t been woken by the cold.
Him barring and even locking himself inside didn’t work, nor did tying himself to the bed, so a friend stayed over to keep watch on him. And they both woke in the forest, walking the same direction Roger had been every night.
That was when we realised something unnatural was going on, and started quarantining those who were affected and blessing those who weren’t. In vain, apparently.
“Aye. Can you see my shoes?”
“Your shoes? You’ve lost your shoes?? Oh merciful moon, that’s not good! Not good at all! Hang on…”
Tsk. Roger is a nervous fellow. A good-meaning sort, but I find his company tiring. I’d hoped my habitual avoidance of him would spare me from whatever curse has befallen him. Clearly it doesn’t spread like a mundane plague.
Around us I can hear footsteps and confused, anxious voices. It sounds like a dozen of the villagers are here.
Every night more are afflicted. I’m starting to wonder if we’re all already cursed and some are simply showing it faster. I shudder at the thought. If blessings aren’t enough to cure it, and no matter how we try and secure the afflicted they somehow leave their homes, what can we do?
My gaze turns to the direction I was walking when I woke. Ah, my coat pocket, is…? Yes, the flap is securely buttoned and my compass is still inside. I check my bearings. I was headed east-northeast. Hm.
“Hoy, Nathan! We’ve found shelter!”
I turn and wave at Roger, then pick my way over.
Strange how my feet aren’t frozen. Fortunate, but strange. I’d heard that everyone afflicted by the curse somehow stays warm until the sun rises and breaks the spell. Which means whatever is causing this doesn’t want us to freeze. So what does it want?
Images tease at my mind. Like a distant dream. I’m sure the northern lights were dancing overhead, and I could hear a voice. Calling? Singing? It spurred me onwards, filling me with concern and urgency. And… and… a face? All I remember is eyes. They might just have been shapes in the aurora overhead.
The others have found a dense clump of pines, snow dragging branches into a crude tent. I add my coat to cover another hole, then crawl inside and join the huddle. Thankfully this small space is already fairly warm. Warm enough that we shouldn’t freeze.
“Meg’s gone for help.” Roger tells me. “Thank goodness this foul magic at least leaves us fresh, eh? She’ll be back soon.”
Hm. Yes, I feel as if I’ve had a restful slumber, not been staggering through woodland for hours. Which would make sense, if the caster wanted us to go somewhere. Somewhere east-northwest of the village, far into the woods.
“Is there anything northeast of here?” I ask. I’m not surprised when everyone uncertainly shakes their head.
“Go long enough and you hit mountains.” Tim mumbles. “Keep going and you hit the sea.”
Surely whatever was bewitching us couldn’t be trying to get us to travel that far. If it couldn’t be walked to in a night, why bother with the enchantment at all?
Though… that voice. It’d been so desperate. Perhaps they weren’t thinking straight.
I rub my face and puff on my hands. Trying to get my thoughts in order.
Someone was trying to get us somewhere, presumably to do something. That was all I knew. And I couldn’t think how to find out more. But with every cure we’d tried having no effect, I felt we had to do something. At this rate the whole village will be waking in the woods. And it's only getting colder. Lives are at stake.
Alright. If we’d walked here overnight, I should be able to walk back here long before I fell asleep. I’d have to fashion some crude shoes - or else get lucky and find my old ones. I did now have the bearing, if I reversed that then perhaps…
Either way. I’d pack a tent and rations. Wrap up.
See where I woke, if I started here.
And pray I wasn’t making myself a pawn to unleashing some terrible evil.

Prompt was “People in your town have started walking in their sleep.
Not randomly—they’re all heading the same direction. Every night, a few more join. They walk until dawn, then return to their beds with no memory. Last night, you woke up halfway there. Your feet were bare and bleeding. And you could almost remember what you were walking toward.”