The north wind blew colder than usual when the envoy arrived. Arka's soldiers immediately stood on high alert at the gates of the Northern Fortress; spears were leveled, and shields were raised. However, the messenger showed no signs of aggression.
The figure walked slowly, carrying a white flag and a small cloth bag containing parchment scrolls. Thick furs cloaked a slender frame.
To everyone's astonishment—
The envoy was a young woman.
Her skin was pure white, almost as pale as the snow itself. Her silver-blonde hair hung down to her waist, fluttering in the northern gale. Her eyes were a cold, piercing blue, filled with sharp alertness. Though small in stature, she stood firm like a seasoned warrior.
Her presence caused Arka's soldiers to exchange uneasy glances. There was something different about this woman. She was not like the gentle Lyria, nor the wild Kaelia. This woman… was like ice.
Arka stepped forward.
"I am Arka," he said. "Leader of this territory."
The woman gave a thin nod. "My name is Freyra. I come as an envoy from the North Snow Clan."
Arka raised an eyebrow. The North Snow Clan was a rumor. Many villages spoke of a tribe dwelling on the edges of the high valleys, surviving in near-lethal temperatures, renowned for their resilience and cunning.
Arka locked eyes with Freyra. "You come bearing a message?"
Freyra opened her bag and handed him a leather scroll.
Arka read it. The message contained only one short sentence:
[We wish to meet you, Arka. At the northern border of the valley. Bring a small escort.]
No signature.
No tribal symbol.
Only those words.
Drakios growled. "It's a trap."
Arka remained calm. "Or it is an offer of alliance."
Kaelia, standing nearby, spoke up. "The Snow Clan is known to be cold and full of deceit. They do not come without a purpose."
Freyra looked sharply at Kaelia. "Our clan is not barbaric. We are not like the wild tribes you have conquered."
Kaelia snorted. "At least we dare to fight in the open, rather than hiding in the ice."
Tension spiked instantly.
Lyria, standing by Arka's side, stepped forward to defuse the situation. "There is no need for conflict…"
But Freyra stared at Lyria with a neutral expression. "You… are no fighter. You are a village girl."
Lyria fell silent, her face tightening.
Arka raised his hand, cutting the argument short.
"We have no time for insults."
He looked at Freyra. "Why did your clan send you? What is your intent?"
Freyra paused a moment before answering.
"Because our clan knows what you have done, Arka. You conquered the Vordak Clan. You rule the northern valley. You have built a fortress that even the great southern villages do not possess."
Arka narrowed his eyes. "How do you know all this?"
Freyra looked back at him composedly. "The Snow Clan has eyes everywhere."
The answer made several soldiers shudder.
Kaelia looked displeased.
Lyria looked worried.
Arka remained standing firm.
"What is your goal?"
Freyra looked straight into Arka's eyes, undaunted.
"Our clan wishes to propose an alliance. But our leader wishes to judge your strength for herself."
She paused.
"If you are weak, we will destroy you."
Silence followed.
Several soldiers took deep breaths.
Drakios clenched his fists.
Kaelia glared at Freyra with murderous intent.
Arka… offered a thin smile.
"Very well. I accept the invitation."
Freyra seemed slightly surprised, though she hid it well.
Arka added, "And you shall be our guide."
Freyra nodded. "I am ready."
Night fell. A strategy meeting was held in the command room of the Northern Fortress.
Drakios pointed to the map. "We don't know if they are enemies or potential allies. I suggest bringing a strong force."
Kaelia crossed her arms. "No. The Snow Clan is famous for respecting courage. If we bring a large army, they will see us as a threat."
Lyria raised her hand timidly. "If… their clan wants to judge Arka, wouldn't they want to see him directly? Without many soldiers?"
Kaelia glanced at Lyria. "For someone who isn't a fighter, you're quite clever."
Lyria looked down, slightly nervous.
Arka thought for a moment. All points were valid.
Finally, he spoke:
"We will go with a small party. Only five people: Myself, Drakios, Kaelia, Freyra as the guide… and one reserve soldier."
Lyria was taken aback. "I'm not going?"
Arka took her hand. "No. This could be very dangerous. I need you to watch over the village."
Lyria looked down, saddened but accepting.
Kaelia watched the exchange with narrowed eyes—a hint of jealousy appeared, something even she might not yet realize.
Freyra merely observed the dynamics without expression.
"Very well," Arka said. "We depart tomorrow morning."
The following morning, the journey began.
The air in the northern valley forest felt different—thinner, colder, and more silent. After several hours of trekking, mist began to descend. Drakios held his spear tightly, Kaelia remained vigilant, while Freyra walked ahead without showing a hint of fear.
"It's too quiet here," Drakios muttered.
"Because no one sane lives in these highlands," Kaelia retorted.
Freyra smiled faintly. "Our clan lives in places harsher than this. Nature has taught us to survive."
Arka observed the way Freyra walked. Her steps were light, barely leaving a trace. She moved like an icy shadow—graceful yet dangerous.
After traveling quite a distance, they arrived at a high plateau.
There, they saw it—
Dozens of white tents, made from thick animal furs.
Armed warriors clad in fur armor with long spears.
A massive bonfire blazed in the center of the clearing.
And on a stone podium in front of the main tent…
A woman stood.
Her hair was silver like Freyra's, but longer.
Her body was tall and well-proportioned.
Her white fur garments signaled high status.
Her gaze was cold, yet lethal.
Freyra knelt in respect. "Leader. I have brought him."
The woman looked at Arka.
"I am Ylvara," she said, her voice chilling but full of authority. "Leader of the North Snow Clan."
She scanned Arka from head to toe.
"And you… Arka. Conqueror of the Vordak Clan. Bringer of change to the southern valley. A leader born from nothing."
Arka stood tall.
"I have come as invited."
Ylvara offered a small, dangerous smile.
"Good."
She stepped down from the podium.
"Now, one thing remains."
She stopped right in front of Arka.
"Show me… whether you are worthy of being an ally."
Kaelia immediately tensed her body, on guard.
Drakios let out a low growl.
Freyra remained silent, as if she already knew what was coming.
Ylvara raised her hand.
"Arka."
"Hmm?"
"You will fight me."
Her gaze was piercing.
"In a duel."
Arka raised an eyebrow. "A duel?"
"Yes." Ylvara smirked slightly. "A fight. No bladed weapons. Until one falls and cannot rise."
Drakios nearly lunged forward. "You wish to kill our leader!?"
The Snow Clan warriors leveled their spears.
The atmosphere grew heated.
Arka raised his hand, calming everyone.
"Why a duel?"
Ylvara looked deep into him, as if seeing beyond his physical form.
"Because we do not submit to words," she answered. "We submit to strength."
She added, with the tone of a personal challenge:
"Prove that you are truly fit to be a king."
Silence dominated the clearing.
A cold wind howled.
The entire clan awaited Arka's answer.
Then, Arka nodded.
"Very well," he said. "Show me the arena."
Ylvara smiled for the first time—the smile of a leader recognizing an equal.
"Excellent. From this moment on… the fate of our alliance rests in your hands."
As the warriors began to prepare the ice arena, where a duel between leaders would determine the future of both peoples, Arka looked at Ylvara, then at Frey
ra standing beside her.
Two women. Both strong. Both lethal.
And one of them…
…would become the third woman in Arka's life.