On that dark, bone-chilling night, a soft, rhythmic knock echoed through John's home. Expecting danger, John approached the door with his blade hidden. To his shock, he found a girl with long, silver hair and skin as white as milk. Her blue eyes, clear as the morning sky, shimmered under the moonlight.
It was Selena, the Village Leader's daughter, known as the "Star of the North." In this frozen wasteland, she was perhaps the only person who still possessed a warm heart.
"It's been a while, John," she said, her voice soft and melodic. "How have you been?"
"Come in," John said, momentarily dazed. "It's freezing out there."
"I can't stay," she replied, handing him a basket that smelled of fresh herbs and expensive wool. "I just wanted to bring this for your mother."
"Thank you, Selena. For looking after her while I was gone."
She tilted her head with a playful, arrogant smile. "Don't mention it. It's my duty as your senior."
Senior? We're the same age, John thought, but he just nodded. As soon as he closed the door, his expression went cold. He walked to the corner and tossed the basket aside. I'm sorry, Selena, he thought bitterly. But I've learned the hard way—trust no one. Not even those who smile.
The next morning, the village was in an uproar. Shouts and whispers about Captain Vlad's disappearance filled the air.
"Where is the old man? He's never been away this long," someone shouted.
"Didn't he take that boy, John, with him? I saw the kid return last night."
Panic flared in John's chest for a second before he steeled himself. He looked at his reflection, then at his knife. Actions have consequences, he whispered. And today, I'll be the one to decide them.
When the village elders thundered at his door and dragged him to the assembly hall, John didn't flinch. The room was filled with hardened warriors. "Where is Captain Vlad, boy? Why did you return alone?"
The silence was heavy. Then, John began to tremble. A low sob escaped his lips. "I... I killed the Captain," he whispered, his voice cracking.
The room gasped. "What do you mean, boy?"
With tears streaming down his face, John spun a masterpiece of a lie. He spoke of a swarm of fifty Snow Lizards—a number that sent a chill through the men. He described an accidental overload of Red Stones, a blinding light, and Vlad's "heroic" final act.
"He pushed me into the sea to save me!" John cried, his body shaking with fake grief. "The explosion... he died because of my mistake! The lizards ignored me and went for... for what was left of him."
An old man in the corner narrowed his eyes. "How did you survive the lizards if you were in the water?"
"I don't know," John sobbed. "I was freezing, I couldn't even move."
The old man nodded slowly. "I see. Snow Lizards are heat-seekers; they are blind to anything at sub-zero temperatures. You survived because you were nearly a corpse yourself."
John hid a cold smile behind his hands. It worked. "But how do we know you're telling the truth?" another elder asked. "You look remarkably unharmed for someone in an explosion."
Without a word, John stripped off his tunic. His chest, back, and legs were covered in raw, jagged scratches—wounds he had inflicted upon himself hours earlier. The room went silent.
"Rest in peace, Captain Vlad," they whispered in unison. One man patted John's head. "It wasn't your fault, kid. He saved you. Go home and rest."
As John walked out, the grief vanished from his face, replaced by a shadow of a smile. Idiots, he thought. The environment is harsh, but it's a great place to hide the truth.
That night, John sat by the window, staring at the moon. He pulled out Vlad's necklace, the one thing the old man died trying to protect. As the moonlight hit the crystal pendant, a strange light refracted onto the icy floor. It wasn't just a reflection—it was a map.
John leaned forward, his eyes wide. "What... what is this?"
To be continued