The moon hung like a cold, silver eye in the blackened sky, its light piercing the frosted glass of John's room. In his palm, the Captain's necklace began to glow. As the lunar rays hit the crystal, a web of light projected onto the wall—a shimmering, ethereal map.
"What is this?" John whispered, leaning closer. But just as the lines began to make sense, a cloud drifted over the moon, and the map vanished into shadow. He tried using a lantern, but the crystal remained dark. Only moonlight, he realized. He tucked the necklace deep into his pocket and succumbed to a heavy, restless sleep.
While John slept, shadows moved across the ice where Vlad had met his end. Stone, the Village Deputy, stood like a frozen statue amidst the howling wind. His men were shivering, their breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Deputy Stone," one hunter ventured, his voice trembling. "It's madness to search now. Even in daylight, the Snow Lizards leave nothing but bone. Vlad is gone."
Stone turned, his gaze heavy with an unspoken threat. "If you do not find his remains, I will ensure you become the lizards' next meal. Do you understand?"
The men scrambled back to work. Stone stared into the abyss, his mind churning. I don't care about the man, he thought. But that necklace... the Leader must have it at any cost.
The next morning, John found his mother looking stronger, the pale ghost of her former self replaced by a faint warmth. "You've grown into a fine man, my son," she said softly. John smiled, feeling a rare moment of peace. She is the only warmth left in this hell.
But survival demanded more than smiles. He needed food and resources. He couldn't risk the main fishing grounds where the village hunters gathered, so he set his sights on the Eastern Valley—a narrow, treacherous gorge that most avoided, but perfect for a small sled.
After hours of searching the frozen silence, John spotted a flash of white. A giant Frost Fox was prowling for food. John crept forward, his heart racing, but his foot caught in a hidden crevice. He stumbled, and the fox vanished into the mist.
"Damn it!" John cursed. But as he looked down at the hole that tripped him, his blood turned to ice. The ground began to vibrate.
From beneath the snow, a nightmare erupted. It was a Frost-Breaker—a massive, worm-like horror covered in chitinous plates that acted like serrated saws. It moved like an avalanche, coiling around the nearby fox and constricting. The saw-like plates began to spin, shredding the animal into red mist in seconds. The creature had no head; instead, dozens of lamprey-like mouths opened all over its body to feed.
John turned to run, but the worm sensed the vibration. It dove back into the ice, tunneling toward him like a subterranean torpedo. John reached his sled just as the ground exploded beneath him. He was launched into the air, the sled flipping wildly.
As he fell, the Frost-Breaker's primary maw opened wide below him. In a moment of pure, desperate adrenaline, John drew his blade and slashed at the creature's interior as he slammed into the ground. The worm shrieked, a sound like grinding metal.
Pain flared in John's chest—a broken rib. The worm surged again, its serrated plates grazing his skin, drawing blood. He was trapped. But as the beast lunged for the killing strike, John grabbed his leather satchel filled with Red Stones.
"Eat this, you oversized maggot!" John roared, hurling the bag deep into the creature's central mouth.
He scrambled away, diving behind a shard of ice. A second later, a muffled thump echoed, followed by a violent, crimson explosion that ripped the Frost-Breaker apart from the inside.
Panting and bruised, John crawled toward the carcass. It was a massive haul. The serrated plates of a Frost-Breaker were worth a fortune in trade. He began harvesting the sharpest blades, loading his damaged sled until it could carry no more.
But as he turned to leave, a shadow fell over him. A shadow far larger than any worm. John turned around, and the breath left his lungs.
To be continued...