Snow and wind blanketed the ice valley. The tundra had long since lost its greenery, and several thick-furred young beasts rolled around in the deep snow, scraping at the frozen earth with their small horns in hopes of finding something green underneath.
Not far from the little beasts stood two Freljordians in thick clothing, each holding a leather whip.
Breathing warm air into her palms and watching the white mist spread across them, Frost Krena narrowed her green eyes and said to the boy in front of her, "K, keep an eye on those calves. I'm going over there to ask around. A caravan just happened to come through the tribe today."
"Got it, Krena," the gray-white-haired boy said with a nod.
Krena hooked the leather whip at her waist, climbed up the frozen slope, and headed toward her tribe. Sure enough, just as she had expected, she could already see from a distance that a line of Freljordians carrying bundles had gathered in front of the canyon between two massive hills.
They were wandering traders of the Freljord. Every year before winter, they came to the Avarosans to trade for supplies.
Winter in Avarosa was not nearly as harsh as it was for most tribes, because the Warmother of the Avarosans, Ashe, was a wise and capable leader. She had opened up land, pushed reform and innovation, and proposed that the tribe begin farming.
Every spring, the Avarosans drew water from the frozen lakes to irrigate their fields. When the weather was less bitter, they planted all kinds of crops.
The harvests were never huge, but with farming added to fishing, hunting, and herding, the Avarosans had gradually grown prosperous. They had also begun accepting nearby tribes that came seeking shelter. Little by little, Avarosa had grown from a tribe that once consisted of only Ashe and a handful of followers into the largest tribe in the entire Freljord.
Unlike the brutal savagery of the Winter's Claw, the traders trusted the Avarosans, and because of that, Avarosa had become a gathering place for merchants.
Ashe also offered those traders protection. She set aside space for them and allowed them to stay whenever they fell on hard times.
Kindness returned in kind, and over time, those merchants began to regard Avarosa as their holy land.
Or rather, it wasn't just the merchants. Everyone who had heard the name Avarosa, everyone who had heard the stories of Ashe, longed for Avarosa and regarded it as a holy land.
As Krena drew closer, she heard the merchants talking.
"Do you think we might get to see Warmother Ashe today? If we can, I want to go see Rakelstake. I heard there's a massive ice statue of Avarosa there, over fifty meters tall."
"Forget it. Today's the festival. Warmother Ashe is definitely busy hosting the warmothers of the other tribes. Didn't the Snow Followers just join the Avarosans not long ago? And wasn't there news a few days ago that Warmother Ashe has been traveling among the tribes, trying to improve relations between them?"
"The Snow Followers... their Warmother Hildhur is really powerful. That ruined little town we passed before? That's where the Snow Followers were destroyed. I never would've thought the Warmother would take her in and forgive her."
Krena listened to the conversation without saying a word. She just whistled and walked into the tribe.
The Avarosan settlement was a great town. They had put down roots here. In this generation, a new civilization was being born.
And Rakelstake, which those merchants were talking about, was the holy site of the Avarosans. Yet even though it was a sacred place, outsiders were not forbidden from entering. Any follower of Ashe could go there and gaze upon the Warmother's statue.
As for the Snow Followers, they were a powerful tribe that had only joined the Avarosans recently.
With winter approaching, the Winter's Claw had expanded its hunting grounds to gather food. The Snow Followers' old territory had originally been in the north, but they were no match for the Winter's Claw. They couldn't even beat one of its splinter groups.
Because of that, the Warmother of the Snow Followers, Hildhur, chose to head south. Along the way, to survive, the Snow Followers raided nearby villages. Those villages happened to be under the protection of the Avarosans.
And so the Warmother led people in pursuit of the Snow Followers. In the face of the mighty Avarosans, the Snow Followers were insignificant.
But who could have guessed that after escaping pursuit several times, Hildhur would one morning lead her people straight to the Avarosans? The tall Iceborn woman knelt before Ashe and offered her True Ice axe.
The woman had intended to trade her own life for Avarosan forgiveness, begging Ashe to take her in after killing her, so that her people might survive the winter.
Krena remembered it clearly. At the time, the Warmother had taken the axe and raised it high. But in the end, Ashe had only slowed her movement and lightly touched the axe to Hildhur's shoulder.
Then, amplified by magic, her voice rang across the icy plain.
"Rise, Hildhur."
"The Snow Followers carry a blood debt. They are my enemies."
"But here and now, you have shown humility and repentance. You are no longer Snow Followers. From this day forward... you are Avarosans. Which means we are family. My bow will never be turned against family. You need not fear me anymore, sister."
Looking back on it now, Krena felt that Warmother Ashe had been covered in a kind of radiance at that moment. Everyone there had knelt to Ashe, offering their most loyal salute to their Warmother and believing every word she said.
Ashe was Avarosa.
Every Avarosan believed that.
Krena, who came from the Redfrost Tree Tribe, believed it too. It was just a shame that she had no magic, wasn't Iceborn, and couldn't become one of the Warmother's warriors. She could only work as a livestock keeper.
Even so, no one in the tribe looked down on her.
The Avarosans were one big family. In a family, there was no high or low, noble or lowborn, only old and young, men and women.
Just as Krena was about to ask the merchants for news about the Winter's Claw, a shrill whistle rang out.
The Avarosan warriors on both sides, wearing armor and carrying longbows, erupted into cheers. One of them pulled out an old horn and blew it with all his strength.
"The Warmother is back!"
"Hurry, spread the word! The Warmother has returned!"
"Tell Lord Tryndamere to come greet our Warmother!"
Joy flashed in Krena's eyes. She immediately forgot all about asking the merchants for news and instead ran toward the canyon to welcome the Warmother.
Every winter, the Avarosans fought the Winter's Claw at least once. The reason was simple: Avarosa was prosperous, while the Winter's Claw was poor. And the Warmother of the Winter's Claw and her own Warmother seemed to have some history together.
In any case, the Avarosans fought a defensive war every year. During winter, the Warmother was always especially busy. Only after the winter was halfway over, once the weather had grown so terrible that neither people nor beasts could travel, would Ashe return to the tribe.
But this time, winter had barely begun, and yet their Warmother had already returned.
What did that mean?
It meant Avarosa had probably already clashed with the Winter's Claw.
And most likely, their Warmother had won.
At that thought, Krena almost wanted to cheer.
The other Avarosans around her clearly thought the same, because their faces were filled with delight.
But then a dark speck appeared in the distance.
It came closer and closer, until Krena could make out a flash of white and blue—the massive ice bow—and then the Warmother's beautiful face came into view.
Her blue cloak snapped in the wind with a sharp rustling sound. A scarf wrapped around Ashe's chin. She was dressed lightly, wearing a blue ranger's tunic to make movement easier.
Her two pale arms were exposed, her hands wrapped in blue leather bracers and gloves. In her left hand, she held the reins of a white wolf, and across her back rested a giant blue ice bow—the sacred bow of Avarosa.
She rode at the very front of the group. There were about fifteen hundred people in the force behind her.
As they drew near, the group slowed, and Krena finally saw the expression on her Warmother's face.
Why did she look like she was in such a bad mood?
The Warmother looked extremely serious.
Riding her white wolf, Ashe entered the town. Behind her followed several leaders from Avarosan outposts, while most of the soldiers dispersed where they stood.
Ten minutes later—
At the center of Avarosa, in a massive building, Ashe had already removed her cloak and stood before a long table in the main hall.
Her eyes, sharp and bright like crystal ice, shone coldly. Her pale hands were braced on the tabletop as she looked at the group gathered on the other side—mostly women, with a few men among them. These people had all once been warmothers or tribal leaders.
Looking at them, Ashe said,
"I know what you want to ask. We've already investigated the situation with the Winter's Claw. This winter, they have not moved beyond their own hunting grounds. That is strange. But that is all we could confirm. Going any deeper than that was impossible."
"Warmother, are they planning to ambush us?" Hildhur said in a low voice, the frost axe on her back visible over her shoulder. "Sejuani would never go through a winter without causing trouble for us."
"I agree with Hildhur," said a short but heavily muscled woman with red markings on her face. "Sejuani must be up to something. Over the years she's gotten worse and worse. At first they only hunted in our territory. But starting last year, they began raiding our villages directly, stealing our food and carrying off our people."
"No. Winter has already arrived. Sejuani will not act in winter." After thinking for a moment, Ashe rejected their conclusion.
She looked down at the table and reached out.
A sand-table map was laid out there, covered with countless little markers. Blue ones represented the Avarosans, red ones the Winter's Claw. Ashe pointed to a river.
"I know her. I know her better than any of you do. What's inside her is not the same as what you see on the outside."
She began with a statement that none of the people present understood, but she offered no explanation and continued instead.
"This is Näljaäg." Ashe pointed to a gray marker, representing the neutral Freljordian town of Näljaäg. Then she went on, "And one of the Winter's Claw's hunting territories lies here."
She picked up a red marker and placed it in front of Näljaäg's gray one.
"This is where we patrolled this time." Taking a blue marker, Ashe placed it on the glacier river.
The river stretched on and on, cutting across the Freljord. Along its course lay Avarosa, the Winter's Claw, and the Frostguard Citadel, and at its end was the Sea of Frozen Glass.
"If Sejuani intended to send people to invade us this winter, then while we were on patrol, we would definitely have found people from the Winter's Claw splinter tribe in this region. But all along the route, we questioned merchants and villagers alike, and all of them said they hadn't seen anyone from the Winter's Claw during this period."
Ashe made her conclusion.
"So this winter, she will not invade us."
"Recall the warriors guarding the border. They haven't taken part in the festival for a long time," Ashe ordered.
"That's not wise." Hearing this, Hildhur said anxiously. She had only recently joined Avarosa. Although she deeply admired Ashe and had already resolved to give her life to protect everything the Avarosans stood for, she still felt Ashe's decision was far too rash.
To assume that the Winter's Claw would not invade based on a few clues and call the warriors back...
What if the Winter's Claw suddenly attacked?
Moving in winter would absolutely cost lives, but aside from Avarosa, what tribe didn't lose people in winter?
Hildhur understood what Ashe meant.
But this was Sejuani.
A ruthless and pitiless conqueror.
Would she really care about the lives of her own people?
Ashe looked at Hildhur calmly. A faint smile touched her lips as she said softly, "Trust me, sister. I won't be wrong."
"I know her better than any of you. I already told you, she is not the same as the stories you hear, or the image you see. She cares more than anyone about her tribe. She cares about every single life in the Winter's Claw."
"Warmother, how can you be so certain?" Hildhur asked, confused.
"Because she and I grew up together. I have known her since we were children. It has been twenty years. Since Kalkia died, no one in this world knows her better than I do," Ashe answered.
Then she clapped her hands and said, "All right. Next matter."
Hildhur hesitated, then nodded.
"While scouting the north, we discovered that another tribe has been wiped out."
"Was it the Winter's Claw?" one of the tribespeople cut in.
If an entire tribe had been exterminated, and it had happened in the north, then eight times out of ten it was the Winter's Claw. Another one and a half times out of ten, it was the Frostguard. The remaining half was the Snow Followers.
But the Snow Followers had already joined the Avarosans.
As for the Frostguard, they rarely ever came out. Once or twice in several years at most. They mostly stayed in their own territory. So naturally, this person guessed Sejuani was responsible.
Maybe it was because the Winter's Claw had already slaughtered one tribe and now had enough food to survive the winter, which was why Sejuani wouldn't attack Avarosa this year.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Ashe shook her head.
"No. That place was a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. Bodies and severed limbs were everywhere. Sejuani would never do something that dishonored warriors like that. There is something very strange about this."
"According to hunters living nearby, that tribe was destroyed in a single day. During the entire time, the hunters around them didn't hear the sounds of battle. But they said they vaguely saw a giant shadow, something like a demon—"
Bang!
A brazier suddenly flew out from behind the hanging partition. Gray ash rolled across the ground, and when the cold wind swept through, sparks flared back to life. The carpet caught those embers, and the room filled with a sharp scorched smell.
A disheveled man shoved the curtain aside with one hand, revealing a ghastly pale face twisted in fury, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
Ashe stared at him blankly. She had never imagined that this barbarian she had used as a shield, this man who was always silent, had such a side to him.
"Tryndamere, you..." Ashe murmured, and her body actually took an involuntary step back.
From this barbarian, Ashe felt a trace of fear.
Was she... afraid of Tryndamere?
Afraid of this man whose tribe had been destroyed, who had wandered homeless ever since?
With a savage expression, Tryndamere stared at Ashe with blood-red eyes. In his other hand, he gripped a great blade, and his hunched body slowly straightened.
"Tell me where it is."
He roared the words like a beast about to break out of its cage.
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