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Dark green leaves of prickly bushes whistled in the howling wind against the overwhelming white of the snow and the pale grey of a few naked rocks. Pine trees danced wildly in the high places of that gorge, whereas their siblings that sprouted a little down below just waved with synchronous movements.

And the cold, the very same cold that ruled the land either day or night, either summer or winter, that cold was there.

And also the dead. Dozens or even thousands, all standing quiet and up straight between the trees, beside the rocks, along the path like statues in a garden. With that hollow, tormented gaze. Silent yet restless.

Only a few could see them and even fewer could speak to them.

Yevin of the Torn Wood Clan could see them very well. She got used to their presence since she was a child, and the sight of a deceased person walking aimlessly or just standing somewhere was something common, but in the last years, the dead were everywhere, they were not in peace, they suffered and brought suffering to the living. But what was happening in this valley, this unholy congregation, was not normal. They were waiting and Yevin feared they could be waiting for the same as she was.

‘You seem distracted.’ Spoke Conrad, a young and very capable man from the King’s Ward, the architect for the plan they were deploying at that moment. ‘It’s the dead, isn’t it?’

‘Since when can you see the dead?’ she replied.

‘Since never. I don’t see them, but there’s just an awful feeling coiling on my insides’.

Yevin knew that Conrad was brave, although being younger than he seemed and not belonging to any of the Wilderness Clans, making him what her people would call a weakling; for Conrad to confess his uneasiness, it could only mean that the situation was going to be as bad as the ghosts were predicting.

‘No turning back now.’ She muttered to herself and Conrad turned his head to her side and nodded. Did he manage to listen to that?

It didn’t matter, for, at that moment, a furious and horrifying howl echoed through the valley.

‘It has begun.’

Yevin moved her feet, feeling tempted to come to aid the men that were somewhere ahead of them.

‘Wait,’ her companion instructed, ‘leave them be. We will come when it’s time.’

The roar came again. It belonged to a distorted creature, one that didn’t belong to the natural order of things, a beast greater than three bears together, made of rotten dark flesh, with limbs that looked like tree stumps and a menacing huge maw that tried to devour the soldiers that were flanking the monster.

Spears, axes and swords tried to kill the thing, even hurt it, but although it ripped small parts of carrion, it did not affect the raging behemoth.

One man was crushed under one mighty and disgusting paw. Soon another was down, this time, eaten alive by the creature while his blood splattered in the snowy ground. Despair overtook the remaining four warriors.

The beast turned to its next prey until it halted suddenly. Its jaw dropped and there was a visible tension on its putrid arms, only there was nothing to see.

At plain sight, that is. For, if Yevin of Torn Wood was there, she would see dozens of the dead grabbing the monster, trying to push down the creature.

A loud crack scared the soldiers when the lower jaw of the monster was snapped out and fell into the ground with a shower of black blood. The creature wailed helplessly while its limbs began to break apart like branches and the four living humans on the bottom of that gorge numbingly watched the grisly spectacle.

It was meant to become even more surreal when a cloud of pure darkness burst from the ridge above and raced down the slope like an avalanche. It came over the creature like it was another one, a fiercer one, that stamped the abomination to the ground and then vanished simply, just like smoke.

The dumbfounded soldiers became even more thunderstruck when they saw, after the mysterious smoke cleared, a man standing on the top of the head of the beast.

He had ragged clothes and a worn simple armor, but had a stainless sword with a pale blue glitter on its slender blade. A blade that had pierced deeply into the monster’s skull.

The man’s head raised slowly so that his cold eyes could meet the gaze of the survivors. They all saw the orange glow in them, the fire that raged on the blue shades of his iris.

In a moment that passed so fast the soldiers barely noticed, the critter’s corpse burned away into the aether and the man who slew it was standing just a few feet from them. No one saw him walking there, he just appeared as mysteriously as before, and stood before them with his perfect, but bloodied, sword on his right hand, ready for a challenge.

‘Are you going to stay there, boys? Or must I clean you out of my way?’

The scared soldiers tightened their grip on their shields and swords. They were much better equipped and had a much fitter constitution than the ragged man before them.

‘We came here for this!’ shouted one of them, trying to give courage to his companions and himself as well. ‘This is the mission our king has bestowed upon us! We capture him and we all be accepted into the King’s Ward!’

One of them replied just by simply turning his back and running into the trees, leaving the remaining three astounded.

‘There goes a smart one,’ commented the man, his voice was soft and deep, but with an ever-present note of harshness. ‘Anyone to join him and arrive home alive?’

The soldiers traded knowing glances at each other, raised their shields and swords, and positioned themselves around the man, making the shape of a triangle.

‘I see… blessed weapons and the mark of the Pure inked in the skin of all of you.’

They looked surprised, after all, the tattoo was not in sight

‘It won’t protect as they might have told you.’

A sudden flaring pain was felt by all the three soldiers. The part of their body that contained the mark was burning, in fact, the drawing of the mark itself was maddeningly burning into their flesh. All of them screamed, dropped their weapons and fell to the ground, twisting in pain.

‘Leave them!’ The thunderous voice of Conrad ripped through the valley and the twisting stopped and the three men could feel some relief.

The man with the dark clothes looked up, to the cliff where Conrad made his appearance.

‘Ah! Here comes the hero.’ He smirked.

‘Your business is with me, Conjurer. Let’s solve this, once and for all.’ He unsheathed his sword, revealing a long and opaque white blade, and began to make his way downhill through the snowy floor.

‘Young Conrad, the White Blade. I’ve heard from you, what you did in Serweizzer’s Hold. You’re a man of honor and could be of use to a lot of good people out there. ‘

‘Caution, Conrad.’ Yevin, who just came from the way the other soldier had run away, shouted to her superior. ‘There are just too many.’

The Conjurer’s piercing eyes moved to her.

‘So you can see them.’ He turned again to Conrad, who was still slowly and fearlessly making his way down. ‘Listen to your friend, White Blade. My business is not with you and you would do well in getting out of the way.’

Conrad finally got to the same level as the Conjurer and positioned himself right in front of him.

‘I don’t get scared by your army of ghosts, I’m here to stop this madness and that I will.’

The man sighed and raised his sword and with a baleful glare spoke to Conrad: ‘Death is with me and that’s what I bring.’

I

“That’s the work of the Cold, I tell you”, commented the bearded guard named Karlto, whom Hayden met on board the Breezy Jack as the seafaring vessel cruised through the glaciers that conglomerated around the foggy coast of Zhedra.

“Haven’t you heard that the snow is so white, yet its heart so dark?”, Hayden nodded, who haven’t heard the old saying?

“My mother also said that no one can avoid Fate, no matter who they were or where they lived”, said Hayden looking down to the wooden planks that boarded the floor of the orlop deck. “But my only daughter…” he looked up, to the eyes of Karlto, “She is only fifteen cycles, she has grown healthy and strong, helps us so much in the fields, loves to write her poetry and…”

“The Reaping is what it is,” said the guard. “Young is what the Provider demands of the sacrifice. Boys and girls from thirteen to seventeen cycles, one from each province, one to each temple, one each cycle. The selection cannot be altered and any attempts of defiance will be punished by the Sanctum’s Protectors, the country’s guard and by the Provider itself, that may even remove the heat from the entire village.”

“Who hasn’t heard that one?”

“I have to attend the selection on Worstrem every cycle as part of the priests’ entourage, hence I know it by heart.”

Hayden looked to the left, seeing a lean and pale man watching the both of them talk to each other from the middle of the deck. He looked back to Karlto to check if he noticed him too and he instinctively looked to the same direction Hayden has been looking. He did the same and saw that the figure wasn’t there anymore. “Fleetfoot”, Hayden thought for not even hearing him approach or go away, maybe it was a knack of some sailors. Of course that, by that time, Hayden didn’t already know that he was capable of seeing the dead.

“We don’t have the Provider’s heat on this ship,” he said, getting back to the conversation.

“Yes, but no one calls this ship home.”

“The wild beasts don’t have it either, yet they manage to live and propagate themselves.”

“They also don’t wear clothes, we do, and not light ones.”

“They have their thick fur and their fat. Also, I was lost in the mountains as a kid and survived them. And we are not even speaking about the Wilderness Clans!”

“Where are you trying to get? That we can live without the Provider’s heat?” Karlto looked him as if he was seeing a crazy person. “Haven’t you realized how harsh the cold is on this land? That if it wasn’t the Provider, all human beings would be frozen to death? Just look at it: the waters that surround Zhedra are the only ones that can be sailed, beyond that everything is deep frozen. Remember that our harsh and unforgiving cold is actually the merciful one!”

They stood in silence for a moment, Hayden had clearly disconnected from the conversation and Karlto, who never raised a family, brought himself to trying to understand the pain of a man that knew his beloved daughter was sentenced to death.

“Sorry.” He said and Hayden replied that it was alright, when clearly it wasn’t, though Karlto’s call to mind didn’t do him any harm that wasn’t already made.

“That’s why I’m going to the wizard.”

Karlto could stay in silence and not open his mouth, since what he had to say wasn’t a pleasant thing, but he had liked Hayden, felt empathy and sorry for his life’s story and what had befallen his small family, so, if he had something to say that he considered being good advice, no matter how unpleasant, he felt like he should say it.

“Look, I hate to bring even more nasty news to you, but I guess it couldn’t harm you anymore.”

“Go on.” Allowed him, thinking that he really liked this man, his frankness and companionship. Were these other circumstances and he would invite him into his house for a banquet. They would kill the fattest turkey, open a bottle of good spirits and spend the afternoon telling all kinds of tales. Sadly, the reality was very different.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the wizard is selfish and turns away uncalled visitors. I’m sorry to put it so bluntly, but do you really think you’re the first desperate person to ask him for help because one of their children have been chosen for the Reaping? Honestly, Hayden, if I were you, I would go back to my daughter and enjoy the remaining days of my life with her.”

Hayden’s lips twisted in a grim.

“No,” he said, “I have to try it.”

“What if he just says ‘no’?”

“He won’t. I’ll give him something.”

“What could you possibly give to a man like him? An immortal who can bend reality to his will. Be reasonable, friend, your family needs you with them.”

“I’ll find something. Everyone wants something, even him.”

They would continue arguing for some more time. Karlto would try to remove Hayden from his quest and he would continue to make reasons to go on with it. However, they couldn’t because, at that moment, something big crashed against the ship’s hull.

The sinking of the Breezy Jack on the icy waters would be inevitable.

Sindha was walking in the woods. Her thick and furry coated boots were starting to get damp from the snow.

One might call it foolish to spend so much time wandering in the freezing woods, even if it was a somewhat safe zone, near the village, but she had something in mind and, right now, the girl was waiting.

Some weeks before and she would call it a stupid waste of time, but what was Time to her nowadays, after all?

She was chosen for the Reaping. Her mother broke into tears, her father ran like a mad man swearing that he would find a way out and Sindha’s world just collapsed.

Her friends started seeing her differently, her boyfriend didn’t call on her anymore and the rest of the good folks of Vamperstad faked smiles and offered her treats she would refuse.

The first weeks were hard, very hard indeed. Not everyone can understand how it is to be doomed, that there’s no way out, that the very world has determined that you will and must die or else the Provider would let everyone freeze to death.

Then, slowly, things would start to fit into every day’s life. Sindha began to see the world in a very different way, like a passerby. What would she care if her best friend was getting married, or if her cousin was very ill? Could she help them? Would anyone help her? If she was not meant to live much longer, then it would be best just to let time flow and things have their way, the way it’s meant to be and cannot be changed.

On this afternoon, as she strolled by the somber and snow-covered woods surrounding Vamperstad, she was determined to do something. It would not change the way things were, for they cannot be changed after all; but she would try to satisfy her curiosity regarding a specific event she had been experiencing lately.

Sindha believed, was even almost certain, that someone was stalking her. When she was outside, or even at home, she would hear footsteps approaching her from behind. They would come steadily, calmly, as if it was her father or mother approaching casually, however, when she looked back, there was no one there. And also, she would always have a strange sense of dread when the footsteps were heard.

She could have dismissed the first couple of times it happened, telling herself it was just an illusion made by the sadness of her situation. But it just began to happen almost every day since the first time, some weeks ago. And now, she was hell-bent on finding out who was following her.

It could be one of the priests, or even someone from the temple, who wanted to control her doings, assuring that Sindha would not try to escape her destiny – that could not be changed and would not change because things are what they are and cannot be changed. Could even be a child, who was fascinated to have someone for the Reaping living in the same village.

Or could be her father, who ran away on the day after her selection, promising it would make anything to save her. Since that day, there was no news from him. Her mother told he simply run because he could not cope with what had happened.

Whoever it was, she would find out there. She might fall ill afterward, for her feet were already frozen and moist, but there, in that very place where her parents took her on the sunniest days of summer, when there was almost no snow covering the ground; there where she knew very well the ground she stood upon, she would find out who was spying on her.

Eventually, as she was expecting, it started.

There were footsteps coming from behind her. Distant at first, but coming steadily closer, as if trotting through the snow. Carefully, she peeked over her shoulder, just to try to see a shape or any signal of movement, but there was nothing besides the sound and the growing feeling of uneasiness. And it was coming closer.

She fought the urge to turn around, as she usually did, knowing that if she did so, the stalker would manage to disappear. But not this time, this time was different.

She pick up a fast pace and so did the stalker. “Good”, she muttered and kept moving through the trees and rocks, as if she was lost and didn’t know where she was. However, that was not the case.

Sindha circled a huge pile of rocks and thick underbrush, harshly turning around as soon as she heard the steps almost catching up with her.

When she turned around to finally face her stalker, Sindha was amazed.

There was no one – nothing. Even the dead twigs and leaves on the snowy ground were untouched, the only footsteps visible were hers.

Then it restarted once again, this time, slowly… and coming from right in front of her. There was no movement, no depressions being made in the snow. Only the sound of heavy steps, making their way through the snow and fallen leaves menacingly towards Sindha.

Now she was afraid.

The interior of the Breezy Jack rocked heavily. Sounds of wood planks splintering, crates crashing and crew members shouting orders made it seem as if the whole ship had become thunder itself.

Hayden made a run to the main deck. Karlto was with him until the stairs that led to the gallery crashed and something scaly and huge cut through the ceiling and walls, separating Karlto from his companion.

Hayden was tossed back into the darkened hallways that made the orlop. He also noted that the ship had been tilted and would soon become even more torn and broken and he would sink with it if he couldn’t manage to get to the lifeboats up on the main deck.

“Come this way, lad!” The voice belonged to a weathered man who resembled very much a sailor.

Hayden sprinted to him, but when he reached the spot where he was, the old man was staying further ahead. He found it odd, since Hayden didn’t remember seeing the man move.

Next to the sailor was a stairway that led to the level above. The ship rocked once again and Hayden fell to the ground.

“Get up, lad!” motivated the old man, “There’s not much time, but you have to get to the cannon that’s on this side of the main deck. It’s already loaded, just make it fire.”

“Shouldn’t you be telling this to one of your mates?” said Hayden, rising from the wooden floor. When he looked at the place where the old man was, there was no one.

“If you’re that fast, why haven’t gone already up there to that cannon, old man?” he mumbled.

When he got to the main deck he froze on his toes with the sight before him.

Entangled to the ship was an enormous sea serpent, almost as big as the Breezy Jack itself. Its body coiled around the quarterdeck, hardening its grip tightly, squeezing and shattering the wooden boards that made the vessel. The head of the beast was dug into the quarterdeck, maybe trying to eat the captain on his cabin, but that was only for a small amount of time, for the creature’s head soon rose from the quarterdeck, revealing a wet and scarred head, white reptilian eyes and a wide mouth filled with sword-like teeth.

It roared and it seemed as if all the monsters in the world were roaring with it too. Then, it gazed upon the lonely standing soul at the far side of the deck. Hayden also noticed it and when his very basic instinct for survival was kicking in, saying he should get back downstairs, something took over and it was as if his mind was shut in the same way a parent covers the eyes of a child so that the offspring won’t look at an upsetting view.

For Hayden it was as if he fell asleep to only wake up in another place, some days later.

Sindha’s invisible stalker, now turned to a predator, slowly made its way towards the scared girl. It left no footsteps, yet the sound of the snow being pressed down was unmistakable as it was the fact that the thing was there for her.

She felt the fear of dying for the first time in her life. She thought she had already felt such a thing when she knew she was going for the Reaping, yet Sindha just learned that she hadn’t experienced anything like that before. It also came with a feeling of helplessness and damnation, for some part of her knew that there was no way out of this one.

Then, the sound disappeared along with that dreadful presence.

Sindha fainted, falling flat on the snowy ground.

Now came the sound of another set of footsteps, these ones from somewhere behind her, also coming in her direction.