Huffing and wheezing come from the darkness of the forest. Snow pushes around with the wind gushing downhill. A small boy walks tired, barely setting his feet into the snow. Trying to balance himself from the strong winds, he stumbles a bit.
"Why...is...this mountain...so huge!" Marse groans.
All bundled up, he tries to push forward, but is flung backwards. Looking up toward the sky, now covered in snow, he notices a shadow on a branch in the distance. The owl sits waiting for him on a branch.
"Maybe if you stop showing off and help me out, I wouldn't be stuck here!" He shouts aggressively.
The owl tries to drown out Marse's shouting, jaded and tired, it leaps off the branch, swooping down right in front of him. Its red eyes stare into Marse, with not a single feather moving from the oncoming wind. It turns towards the winds that blind Marse for a moment before spreading its large wings out. With a flap of its wings, the winds are pushed back and cease, and the snowflakes stop falling to the ground, freezing in place.
"Wow," Marse mutters.
He stands up and walks around, touching the various snowflakes that are still in place, as if they are each strung up by a piece of string from the clouds. He grabs a snowflake in his hand and throws it off in the distance, waiting for it to fall to the ground. It eventually stops again in mid-air.
"How...how did you do this?"
The owl hops in the snow before leaping to take flight again. He took one last look before going on the path again. Following the owl up the mountain, all around him seems to be still and lifeless, every single snowflake, every single tree motionless, as if the forest had died.
Don stands restless, in this never-ending dream, around a field of purple flowers that give off a blue glow from their center. As he stands in the center of this field with an opening inside the forest, he looks to the night sky before he is startled by rustling leaves in the tree line.
Hrafn jumps out with Claire and Arani in his arms, running away. He stops for a moment, looking around his surroundings, watching as the wind blows the flowers side to side. He seemed puzzled, looking up to the same stars Don was looking at.
"I thought this was the way to Usfed," he mumbles.
Thunder cracks in the distance as dark clouds slowly approach from all sides. Flashes of light emanate from within them, illuminating the cloud within. Winds blow cold air onto Hrafn. Seeing the girls shivering, he turns his back toward the wind.
"Daddy, it's cold."
In shock, he sees that Arani is awake in his arms. Tired and cold, she starts to shiver, grabbing her father closer.
"How are you awake?"
"Sorry, Daddy, I was actually never asleep. Illusion spells don't work on me, remember."
"I know, but it didn't matter." Arani tilts her head in confusion, jiggling her hair ornaments. "I only needed for you to keep calm and quiet, as you can tell, we are being hunted. You cannot get scared, especially now, I'm here to protect you. Moss is currently dealing with those intruders. And I... am currently lost."
Silence stirs around them for a moment. "Huh, how are you lost?!"
"Probably just took a wrong turn at a tree, but no need to worry. When you're lost, you can just ask for directions." He says, letting her down from his arm.
He stands peering around the flower field, walking into the flowers, and he takes every step carefully, not wanting to hurt them.
"These are called Tell flowers. They are usually used as way markers for travel, but at times they can also help with the lost. The gardeners train these flowers with different sounds to point to directions of cities, towns, and even rest stops. So when a certain sound is present, some will close up, but others will stay open, putting a direction in the field. So, if I remember correctly, Usfed should just be a snap of a finger."
Standing in the middle of the field, he gazes around for a bit. Arani watches closely, intrigued by the flowers.
Hrafn raises his right hand high, clenching his middle finger and thumb together. A loud snap is produced, echoing in the field. Arani waits patiently for something to happen. She looks over to her father, who is telling her to keep quiet.
As foretold, slowly one by one, the flowers start to close, increasing in speed as time progresses. Eventually, the field becomes dimmer with only the light from ten flowers in a line pointing in a direction northeast from where Hrafn stands.
"Wow!" she says, amazed.
Hrafn turns to Arani with a big grin on his face, watching as she steps curiously into the field.
"Told you. Pretty neat, huh? Come here now."
She walks over to her father's side, comforted by head pats. He kneels to her level with Claire in his arms, his face is torn with little happiness left to be seen. The realization sets on Aranis' face as she begins to tremble in her hands. He grasps her hands tightly, ready to speak.
"Arani-"
"No, Daddy! You can't let us go by ourselves!" Arani protests.
Hrafn stays quiet with a blank face, letting her speak.
"We need you." Her voice begins to tremble with water forming in her eyes.
"I understand how you feel, but I can reassure you that once this is all over, you'll forgive me."
Tears begin to roll down her red cheeks as he talks further to her. Don watches as they hug each other from afar, sitting on the ground near a tree. Zoned out, he watches as Hrafn gives a glowing crystal to Arani. He tucks it into her coat and gives her a kiss on her forehead. Claire is then given to Arani, where she is hoisted up for a piggyback. The two leave their father walking in the direction where the flowers point. Arani walks carefully, not stepping on a single flower. Hrafn watches as she slowly disappears into the darkness of the woods, with her footsteps faintly subsiding.
Hrafn turns in the opposite direction from where his daughters went. Turning his head back, he watches as black smoke rises into the sky in the south for a moment. He begins to walk, crushing the flowers with each step. Just when he's about to enter the tree line, he stops. Don notices as he sits on the ground, slumped. Hrafn's head turns slowly to his left, eventually meeting eyes with Don. He stares at him with a gaze almost certain of his presence.
"You can see me!" Don shouts as he springs up from the ground.
Hrafn's cold gaze turns away from him. Without anything to say, he starts on the path again, entering the forest once again.
"Hey-wait!" Don shouts as he scrabbles over to him. "What is this place!? Where am I? Please, I need to get back to-"
Just when he enters the forest behind him, everything goes black once more.
"Dammit!" He shouts in a rage.
Screaming as he punches the ground in frustration, the scene changes again. He looks up and around to take a look at what's in front of him as everything fades in. He now stands in the middle of a vast and empty Basin with two high mountains towering on either side, riddled with trees all covered in powdery snow. The winds blow off the snow on the hills that drift down like a billowing, weightless blanket. With dark clouds rolling in slowly above the basin, the winds start howling ever so more, tossing snow all around.
Blinded by the snowstorm, he tries to look for any signs of Hrafn or the two girls squinting in the distance. He moves around searching, just then he hears a faint voice coming from the distance, slowly closing in on the sound, it gets louder and louder. Before him, a familiar man stands with burnt and torn dark and shadowy clothes. Don circles him cautiously to see his face.
Twig stands, seeming to be mumbling to himself with his eyes closed. His arm is now slightly singed from the explosion, holding a battered skinny blade that shines.
"Ok, this is annoying." Throwing the blade up into the air, the blade gently touches the cloud before going through it, dispersing the storm in an instant, pushing the clouds all around.
The blizzard ceases with the basin now open to a starry sky.
Twig opens his eyes to be greeted by Hrafn, and Don watches as they stare each other down.
Twig gives a big smile. "Long time no see, your majesty." Hrafn stares him down. "Ok, sorry your night didn't go as planned, but I will say, what a pretty night."
"At least spare your tongue from getting cut off."
"What good is my tongue if I'm already dead?"
The sword that was sent flying into the air lands in the snow to the right of Twig
"Speaking of the dead," Twig adds, "your one friend really didn't put up much of a fight. You might have hadda better chance if you both fought together. But for some reason, whatever was in that necklace did not like us one bit."
He yanks the sword from the ground and points it toward Hrafn. Water drips off the end onto the snow. Tenson rises as they both examine each other.
"I might give it back," He says as he examines the sword. "But that's only if I don't break while we fight."
"So before we start, where might be your daughte-"
In an instant, Hrafn explodes his body toward Twig, leaving him to defend. In instinct, Twig swings the sword to strike him. Hrafn catches his arm with his left hand, stopping the force. In one swell motion, he strikes, with anger, onto his chest with his right arm, shattering his rib cage. From the force of the impact, Twig is sent flying backwards into the side of the mountain, leaving his arm in Hrafn's clench.
Blood spills from the severed limb onto the snow, and a dark red puddle slowly grows on the ground in front of him. In the distance, a plume of snow and dust is sent scattering around. The dust hangs in the air for several seconds before settling. A large crater is now etched into the side of the mountain, where Twig lies restless in the middle. Hrafn grabs the sword from the torn-off arm and tosses it onto the ground as he watches Twig from afar. Slowly, he gets up from the dent he made, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Walking back from where he came, he spits blood to the ground, wiping his mouth.
"Thank you, Moss. It seems you let the maidens run away, sacrificing yourself in turn." He says, looking at the sword.
Twig stands in front of Hrafn again, now with one less arm.
"Okay, good to note that it's a touchy subject." He says, unfazed by the amount of blood spilling from his body. "Could I have my arm back? I use that hand to beat my thing off."
"Maybe you should've thought about that before wanting to harm my daughters."
"To be fair," Twig replies, "I only asked where they are. I said nothing about harming them. And as I told your buddy, back at the house, if you would just comply, we won't have to fight at all. So I'll only ask you once more where they are, because my brother is very impatient."
"Im not telling any of you where they are."
"Oh, don't tell me, tell my brother, who is currently behind you if you haven't noticed."
A presence looms over Hrafn.
A towering figure in a dark cloak stands silently, with nothing but his breath flowing out from the dark hood to be seen. Hrfan's eyes light up in surprise as he turns his head around. A fist emerges from the shadows of the cloak, plunging into the side of Hrafn. He braces for the impact before he is sent hurdling into the basin. His body skips and smacks onto the ground like a rock on water, only before stopping near a hill at the edge of the basin after he anchors his hand and the sword into the ground.
Shaken up, Hrafn stands with blurry vision, and he watches as the two close in on him. Tree casually tosses the severed arm back to Twig. Jaming the torn limb against his stump, his flesh begins to stretch and twist, and veins start to slither out like snakes and bind together. Bone grids and shifts, dragging itself into place.
His fingers jerk violently, snapping open and closed. A violent crack echoes as the bones lock together. In seconds, the arm hangs whole once again, swigging freely at his side, obedient and horrifically complete, as though it had never been ripped away at all with only a faint scar to show.
The two stand watching as Hrafn stumbles. He walks over to them as the brothers restlessly stand, gazing at him.
"I've grown impatient myself now, Hrafn. To be honest, I don't even care to kill you; my brother can do that. I would just like to see the face you make as we take your only world away from you. I can tell that you have already become hopeless with that bruised face of yours. You were probably waiting for your wife to get here, but I can tell you that's not happening. Usfed is already in flames, I'm surprised we can't hear the screams from here. There weren't just two of us; our father told us to bring our little brother as well. And as much as I hate the little shit, he is much stronger than us. He's probably putting up a good fight against the Cold Queen as we speak, wanna make any bets?
Twig looks around at the vast and quiet landscape
"Look for them."
Tree dashes to the mountain to the left from where they stand. Twig watches Hrafn.
"So," he taunts, "are you going to stop us? Try to thwart our plan? Be the hero?! What are you waiting for?"
Hrafn plants Moss's sword into the ground and starts walking towards him. Twig looks at him in confusion as he walks past him. He makes way to the center of the basin, where he takes a seat in the snow with his back towards Twig.
"No," he says quietly, "because I already have."
Twigs' brow furrows.
"I made sure to have footprints you could follow. Obviously, this is the only way to the nearest town, Usefd, but you're not from here, so you wouldn't know that. But back at the flowers, you should've looked for the smaller footprints." Twig's eyes light up in surprise. "You know the other place that's close to here, right. The Graveyard of Bells. Not even you would dare set foot in that place. I had a feeling that there were more of you. I wouldn't send my daughters back into a battle."
"Are you mad!" Twig screams, running up to him. "Are you trying to get your daughters killed?!
Twig grabs him by the collar of his coat and throws him down to the snow.
"I have full faith in my wife and kids; they should be perfectly fine," he says with a smile on his face.
With his hand still on his collar, he throws him into the air. He is eventually grabbed by Tree, who catches him in mid-air, slamming him back down to the snow. Blood runs down Hrafn's broken nose as Tree holds him up by his neck, suspended in the air with a tight grip, restraining his arms.
Twig paces back and forth, thinking.
"Tree," he snaps, "the girls have gone to the Graveyard of Bells, and we may not make it in time. This lunatic just made two small coffins. I say we go to Usfed to help Souti; that's if he's still alive."
He looks to the distance behind them and notices a long line of dark clouds pushing toward them, covering the sky and the light of the stars.
"Another snowstorm is on the way, damn, I hate this place, why would anyone want to live here. It looks bigger than the last; it might be a glass blizzard. We need to go. Now."
"Oh, no," Hrafn interjects. "That's just a normal blizzard."
Twig glances back.
"You see," Hrafn continues, "it's not hiemer here yet. A glass blizzard starts much higher in the sky." He lets a weak chuckle. "A little funny rule for us locals, as kids, we aren't allowed onto the ice until the first glass blizzard comes through. The winds plus the temperature make it easy for the ice to break and refreeze, strengthening the ground, making it impossible for anyone to fall through."
"...How funny," Twig mutters.
"I assume as of now, the ice should be just right. So then, before you kill me, I'll ask you guys one final question."
"What now?" Twig says impatiently.
"Do you know how to swim?"
In an instance, he breaks free from Tree's grip and locks hold of him with his right hand. He slams his foot down with force into the ground. Driving forward, he lunges toward Twig, snatching his leg with his left hand gripping which shatters his bone.
In agony, Twig screams, falling down after Hrafn yanks him closer. The sound of ice begins to creak and stir beneath them.
"This is a lake!" Twig shouts in realization.
Ice starts to crack and shatter violently. The cracks spiderweb outward toward the end of the lake as huge blocks surfacing all around. Twig and Tree frantically try to escape the dark abyss below their feet. They slip and fall trying to steady their feet on shifting and uneven ground. Tree manages to climb and cling onto a massive ice block that reaches outward, slowly sinking down into the water. Twig leaps to where Tree is from an ice spike on the side of an upturned block. They both watch in horror as the entire lake is broken and swallowed up. At the center of it all sits Hrafn calmly, with both his hands ripped off with his foot driven deep into the ice, anchoring him in place.
"That asshole," Twig snarls. "He led us onto a lake, broke the ice, and stopped us from jumping away!
Just when they found a moment of peace, the iceberg shifts its weight to the side they cling to. Tipping backward, it starts to fall. The iceberg slams backward into the lake, erupting in a thunderous crash. Water explodes upward as the ice plunges, dragging both of them down. The wave it unleashes swallows Hrafn whole, tearing him from sight.
The three sink into what little light they have left. The dark abyss of the cold water awaits them as Don watches, standing inside the water.
Desperately, Tree and Twig thrash and kick, arms slicing through the water as they fight to rise. Menurvering around ice chunks blocking their way, bubbles tear free from their mouths as they struggle for air. The surface glimmers above them, close enough to see.
Though Hrafn does not fight, sinking, he watches as they try to escape.
The dark thickens around him, the water pressing in from all sides. The surface light above grows distant, blurred, then fractured. Tree and Twig fade from view, their movements swallowed by the lake.
The lake no longer seems to move. And Hrafn floats still under the faint moonlight.
And then Don hears it.
Not a voice. A message, though not in a physical form, as on a piece of paper, but one through feeling and in love.
To my Eira, I leave my final thoughts to you. In a few minutes after I pass on this necklace will break, as you probably felt earlier. Though I don't know what it will do, I hope it subdues those two. I'm sorry, this was the only way. Also, please ensure that Moss's family is gifted with thanks for his patronage and service to our family. My time is running out, so I must keep this brief. I gave the last necklace to Arani. Please don't hate me, but I sent them to the Graveyard of Bells.
Don blinks to a blizzard all around, not even able to see in front of himself, he takes steps in the soft snow. Running into a tired Arani, she fades through him. Still carrying Claire on her back, she trudges through bundled in her clothes. Gasping, she stopped, frightened by something ahead.
Unclear. Don steps forward and sees a tall shadow in the wind.
She and Claire will hopefully run into that man I told you about. He's kind and gentle, and he will protect them if needed.
The shadow carries something heavy on its back, lifted by its fight arm, larger and wider than its body.
Hesitant Arani speaks into the storm. "Uh...excuse me, mister. M-My name is Arani, and this is my sister Claire. Where a part of the Naali family from the city of Kladnorde, south of here. My father, Hrafn, told us about a man who lives in the Graveyard of Bells. Would you be him? We're currently on the run from bad men, and I think he needs your help."
The shadow seems to kneel to one knee. Slowly, a battered and scarred hand reaches out from the thick snow. Clenching her necklace, Arani lent her small and frail hand and gently grasped his finger.
The snow blows fiercely around them, wraps them tightly, seemingly to vanish before turning blinding Don into the cold dark water with Hrafn
It haunts me to see my girls grow up so fast; it feels just like yesterday when Claire was born. Maybe that's why I never cared for the future. But...I wish I had gotten to spend more time with them. All I can do now is hope. Hope they will grow to be cunning women who are smart and bold, but also loving and caring. To my little foxes, tell them I love them both dearly, be sisters to one another, don't fight too much, and find a lover who will make you feel whole.
And now for the hard part.
My love.
I have kissed you thousands of times and held your hand even when it hurt, I've sung you songs you hate and made love to you in some of the strangest of places. Though some would say our time was short together, it felt like a hundred years with you.
When I first looked into your eyes, I couldn't look away; they captured me as if I were an animal caught in a trap. I would always get butterflies when you were near me, and I was always too nervous to say anything. Until finally my tongue slipped, and everything I was holding came out.
My only fear now is that I won't be able to keep these memories in the afterlife. My love for you is far greater than any binding. Through life and death, I will always find you, and you will always find me.
Bye-bye, my snowflake.
As Hrafn continues to sink, Don watches blankly, sorry for what has happened, though he couldn't help. A small glare of light spews out from the darkness, taking Don out of thought.
A hand bursts from the water, fingers scraping against a floating slab of ice. Twig coughs and gasps, clinging to the edge as he drags himself upward, muscles trembling with exhaustion.
Behind him, two larger hands rise from the dark. Tree follows, still hooded, hauling himself onto another slab. Ice groans beneath their weight, but it holds.
They lie there silent, staring up at the star-filled sky, chests heaving, the cold biting deep into their bones. The world feels impossibly quiet. Twig turns his head, noticing a strange light from within the water.
Below them, through the fractured ice, the water begins to glow.
At first, it's faint, barely there. Then brighter. Brighter still.
"Now what?" Twig mutters, barely awake.
The answer comes instantly.
A crystal-blue light erupts from beneath the lake, swallowing them whole. It blinds them, surging upward in a violent column that pierces through ice and water alike, spilling into the basin and stretching toward the sky.
Ice forms in a heartbeat.
It races around Twig's legs, his torso, his arms—locking him in place before he can cry out. The frost spreads outward and upward, climbing fast, spiraling as it rises. Jagged branches twist and fuse together, growing higher than the mountains themselves.
The chaos slows.
When it ends, something stands where the lake once broke open.
A towering tree of ice stands before them, its trunk thick and crystalline, its branches spiraling skyward. Shards of ice dangle from its crown, swaying faintly in the wind. Moonlight catches along its frozen surfaces, scattering across countless facets as the structure gleams in the night, silent and eternal.
Don stands before the ice tree, watching as its countless crystals hum softly from within, a sweet, almost musical sound carried by the wind. The branches sway faintly, chiming against one another in slow, patient rhythms.
Drawn by fascination, he steps closer.
At the base of the trunk, entombed within the ice, Twig and Tree rest in deep, unmoving sleep. Their forms are visible through the crystalline layers, preserved and still, as though the tree itself has chosen to keep them.
Don circles the trunk, leaping over massive, twisted roots of ice that claw across the frozen ground. He climbs and walks its perimeter, taking in the full enormity of it, until at last he slows.
Though something catches his eye.
A single snowflake drifts down from above, dancing gently through the air. Don lifts his hand and waits. The flake settles against his skin, its tiny crystallization intricate and perfect beyond imagining.
As he leans closer to examine it, a sudden gust of wind tears it away.
Don watches as the snowflake is carried far from the tree, fluttering across the frozen lake. At last, it comes to rest upon Moss's sword, still embedded in the snow, untouched and waiting.
Where a person once stood watching this dream unfold, there is no more. Like a ghost lost in the wind. There is no one left in this desolate place now. Silent and now calm, the light dims.
Trying to open his eyes, a faint voice calls his name. A blurred figure stands above him.
Too exhausted to answer, Don closes his eyes once more.