The gates of Frostgate Keep stood tall and unmoving, their thick iron frames coated with a fresh layer of frost. The sky was still dark—just past the sixth bell—but the flickering torchlight lit up the snow-dusted courtyard, revealing lines of knights and mages readying for departure.
Near the front of the procession, the four children stood wrapped in thick cloaks lined with fur. Malric adjusted the straps on his sword, trying to appear unfazed, while Lira held her gloves close to her mouth, blowing warm breath inside them. Jorin shifted from foot to foot, his teeth chattering despite his coat.
"I can't tell if I'm cold or scared," he muttered.
"Probably both," Alaric said, pulling his cloak tighter. "But we're all here, right? That counts for something."
Malric exhaled, his breath curling into the air. "First time out beyond the city walls. No training arena. No tutors. Just snow… and monsters."
Lira nudged him. "And Mother. She wouldn't bring us if she didn't believe we could handle it."
Alaric looked ahead where Knight-Commander Tharyn stepped forward. He wore blackened steel armor inlaid with silver trim, a thick blue cape draped over one shoulder. His frost-colored beard and piercing eyes gave him a stern but dependable presence.
"Formation attention!" Tharyn's voice boomed across the ranks. "Today we march on Erenshade. Our scouts have confirmed concentrated monster presence. We'll proceed with standard division protocol."
He pointed to the line of shield-bearing knights. "Captain Virel will lead the Defensive Vanguard. Your duty is to establish the front wall and hold formation. Virel—step forward."
A broad-shouldered woman with a scar slicing across her lip and chin strode to the front. Her twin axes gleamed on her back. "I'll be your wall," she said to the troops with a smirk. "Let nothing past me."
Tharyn nodded. "Behind her, the Offensive Vanguard—led by Captain Edran."
A tall man with flame-orange hair tied in a warrior's knot gave a short bow. He wore light armor covered with burn marks and carried a massive glaive on his back. "We cut the path. Fast and hard."
"Third, the Mage and Healer Corps, led by Mage-Captain Alithra."
A dark-haired elf woman stepped forward, robes layered over enchanted armor. Her hands shimmered faintly with white-blue magic.
"I'll maintain our wards, suppress the monsters, and keep your limbs where they belong," she said dryly.
"And leading us all," Tharyn turned to the group behind him, "the Duchess of the North—Lady Lireya Taldred."
Lireya approached, armored in silver-and-blue plate with flowing blue sashes. Her silver hair was tied into a warrior's braid, her presence both elegant and commanding.
"Today," she said, her voice calm and unwavering, "we step beyond our safety to protect those who cannot protect themselves. This is not glory. This is duty. Erenshade needs us. And we will not fail them."
She looked toward the children.
"And to the four of you—this is your first march. You will observe. You will learn. And you will remember. The world is not a storybook. But it is ours to protect."
Alaric's gaze dropped for a moment, his thoughts drifting.
Mira… I haven't forgotten.
He gripped the hilt of his training sword. Not yet strong enough to fight. But someday… he would be.
Through White Silence
The caravan set out just after sunrise, banners of the duchy fluttering in the wind. Snow fell softly, covering the world in pale silence. Their boots crunched over the frozen ground, and the formation moved in practiced rhythm.
The children rode in a covered transport, guarded by two knights. From inside, they watched the land roll by—frozen rivers, silent pines, abandoned fields glazed with ice.
Alaric leaned closer to the window slit. "I never realized how empty it is out here."
"It's beautiful," Lira whispered. "But it feels… haunted."
They passed a cluster of homes. Windows shattered. Doors hanging open. Claw marks streaked across a stone well.
Jorin swallowed. "Was this… one of the villages?"
"Not Erenshade," Malric said. "But probably one like it."
Alaric gritted his teeth. "Who protects the places no one remembers?"
"That's what this march is for," Malric said.
Campfire Questions
That evening, they made camp along a ridge that overlooked a frozen valley. Enchanted stones kept the perimeter sealed, their glowing runes humming faintly.
The children gathered around a fire with Lireya and Tharyn. Knights cleaned weapons nearby. Mages rested their mana reserves. Snow drifted lightly but did not settle on the warm stones.
Alaric stirred the soup in his bowl, then turned to the duchess.
"Can I ask something?"
Lireya gave a small nod. "You may."
"These monsters… what are they? Where do they come from?"
Tharyn answered, voice like gravel. "They weren't always monsters. Not all of them. Some were animals. Some were once spirit-bound. But then… something changes them."
"The corruption," Lira said softly.
Lireya nodded. "The corruption leaks from the Veil. When the barrier weakens in a region, evil spirits slip through. They're not the same as the ones summoners call. They're born in darkness. And when they merge with beasts—or worse, with people—they warp everything."
"Do they speak?" Jorin asked.
"Some do," Tharyn said. "But you don't want to hear what they have to say."
Alaric looked at the fire. "What about the one leading this siege?"
Lireya's eyes hardened. "Its name is Velkran the Hollowback. A Wyrm-class beast, once rumored to be a guardian spirit of the mountain pass. Now… it serves chaos. Massive. Intelligent. Wears broken sigils etched into its hide like armor."
Lira shivered. "Can something that was once good… really turn evil forever?"
No one answered immediately.
Then Lireya said, "Redemption is rare—but not impossible. Even for the worst."
Night Whispers
Later that night, while the camp slept, Alaric stirred in his bedroll.
Something moved.
He sat up slowly. Outside the perimeter stone, the forest stood still. Snow fell in flakes like ash.
Then—movement.
A massive shadow slithered between the trees, barely visible. Red eyes blinked once through the branches.
Alaric didn't cry out. He just stared.
The shadow vanished.
He clutched the hilt of his blade.
Whether it was a dream or not, he didn't sleep the rest of the night.