FicWad

He could only feel the darkness anymore. The cold, numbing sensation of the water had simply become part of him; it was no longer strange. He kept his eyes closed, knowing he wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway. Instead he focused on holding the hand of the person leading him down into the dark water.
"Open your eyes," said a calm, dark voice just seconds later. He hesitated to obey the gentle command. "Trust me and open your eyes." This time he listened. His eyes fluttered open, allowing the white light to shine through. Every ounce of water in his lungs was replaced with fresh, clear air. He knew he would live.
The light's haze cleared quickly. He blinked several times, feeling a small portion of his strength return. A blurred mass of white thickly edged with black interrupted his field of vision. It slowly came into focus.
"He's alive," the person said again. Davey continued to blink until everything looked clear. He was staring into someone's face, someone who looked similar to him. He was lying completely flat on a hard floor. He drew a deep breath and spoke in a raspy voice.
"Who are you?" His words came breathlessly, but he was merely thankful he could speak. He was alive. The warmth was flooding back into him very slowly and reviving him. It felt strange in comparison to the frigid water.
The person helped him to his feet and began to lead him one direction. He heard someone speaking, but it was quickly pushed to the back of his mind as he looked around. There were people everywhere, hovering around the open, dark room in small groups of two or three. They all eyed him carefully.
"I'm sorry...What did you say?" he asked the teenage boy who had been speaking to him.
"We are the Despair Faction. Welcome to Decemberunderground." His eyes widened slightly.
"The...Despair Faction?" Davey asked in confusion. The black-haired boy nodded.
"We come from different places, seeking different things. In the end, we all came to this place in search of warmth. And before now, we were unsuccessful."
"What finally happened?" The boy's hazel eyes brightened considerably.
"You were brought to us by the Messengers. They bring the lost ones here before anything happens to them." Davey was wide awake now.
"Are they the ones who stole my friends?" The boy shook his head.
"While you were unconscious, you were talking about them. I fear they have been taken by more sinister forces than ourselves." He took a right turn and went down a long corridor, stopping at a door Davey hadn't even seen. He knocked once, and it opened. Firelight flickered around the inside of the stone-walled room, creating both warmth and light. Davey followed the boy as he crossed the room, stopping at the foot of a bed.
"This was the only one the Messengers brought to us; I fear it may be too late for him."
"Jade!" Davey rushed to his friend's side, but he was unconscious. He looked dead, with tears frozen to his face that refused to melt. It was as if he had never left the world of winter.
"What is this place?" he asked in horror. The boy's face remained grim as he recited the description.
"Decemberunderground is a time and a place. It is where the cold can huddle together in darkness and isolation. It is a community of those detached and disillusioned who flee to love, like winter, in the recesses below the rest of the world." Davey sat down. Most of the words were lost on him. He knelt by Jade's side, watching as he took slow, shallow breaths.
"Jade...listen to me. You have to live...you just have to..." He saw no response.
"Ah, Stella has returned. She's one of the healers who's been trying to save him," the boy said with a positive tone to his voice, glancing at the other end of the room. A brown-cloaked figure had just entered with a fresh dusting of snow on her shoulders. She removed her hood and turned to face them. Davey inhaled sharply and began backing away from her.
"Get away from me!" he shouted, gasping for air as fear overtook him. He tripped over something and fell to the floor backwards, but it didn't matter. He had to get away from her.
Stella looked at him with confused brown eyes. She tried to approach him with one outstretched hand, but he shrank away from her. She frowned.
"What is wrong?" she asked the boy, who watched Davey with the same facial expression.
"I do not know."
"You're the one who attacked me! You killed my friends!" He tried to shout the words, but his voice was quickly failing him. He was growing weaker by the second.
"I have done no such thing. I only went out to find more winterleaves." She held up a handful of pale, green leaves that were iced over just like the one Davey had found earlier.
"What are those?" he asked warily.
"Winterleaves. They are leaves that have been frozen since the Beginning. It takes a while to melt them, but they are useful in healing. It's becoming more and more difficult to find them; recently I've had to go closer and closer to the outer edge of our lands." Davey's head was spinning. Nothing she was saying made any sense to him.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, hearing almost no sound. He felt like he was about to faint. He closed his eyes to block out the light; even the low glow of the torches on the wall seemed blinding compared to the comforting darkness.
A cold hand touched his forehead, retracting immediately upon feeling how warm he was. Davey tried to open his eyes, but even that took too much energy. Consciousness slipped away from him.