⚠️ Warning: The following chapter may include explicit depictions of how a person might survive in the extreme cold of Greenland. The author does not intend to be morbid or to use this type of narrative in a mocking way. Everything described in this chapter is fiction, and reader discretion is advised.
🫠 Author's Note: Guys, it's coming. With this chapter and the next one, we're only halfway through the Kosmogenesis volume. After this volume… well, let's just say things are about to get interesting.
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Jack and Dánae were praying before their meal. In front of them lay meat with potatoes and some boiled vegetables with a bit of sauce, accompanied by water from the river.
As they ate, Dánae broke the silence:
"I don't like that there's no light, and there's no oil for a lantern."
"Relax," Jack replied. "In a year or a decade, you won't even notice. This place is too dark. The only things that light up the scene are the stars or the nighttime rainbows, and they only appear now and then."
"When will Kamei-san be back?" she asked. "He's taking so long—I've been counting the days since he left, and if I'm not mistaken, it's been almost five months."
"I don't know. Knowing him, it could take a year… or decades."
Jack tried to change the subject: "Alright, we need to do something so we don't get bored."
Dánae interrupted him: "Can I ask you something? I'm 'the Saint of Nature'… but I don't know what that actually means. Do you?"
Jack held up the tip of his finger. From it, a small flame flickered, briefly lighting up the dark room.
"Look, I can only hold it for a minute. It burns my hands. It's ironic—the divine gift God gave me actually hurts me. I need leather gloves to control it. Your gift, though, is much more versatile, isn't it? If you can control plants, that's a lot friendlier than fire."
Dánae was astonished; she had never seen anything like it. She felt as if she were in another world—a hidden forest, a young man manipulating flames. For her, it was absolutely incredible.
"Tell me something, Jack," Dánae insisted. "I'm the fourth saint—at least that's what Kamei-san told me. You're the first. The second and third… I think they're the Saint of Lightning and the Saint of Wind, and they're in Greenland. Do you think they'll come back safely? From what the angel said, it sounds like a dangerous place."
Jack lowered his gaze. "Every place that old man takes you to is dangerous."
"What old man?"
"A man who looks forty, but has nearly two thousand years on him. His name is Galton. That wretch brought me here. He's not a good man. Supposedly God chose him, but he doesn't look chosen. I just hope those saints aren't having too hard a time."
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After the conversation in Vermont, we move several kilometers north, to Greenland. Nuriel has been carrying the weight of Adelaida and Galton for weeks; they no longer even count the days—they just keep walking, resting only when their bodies demand it. No one knew it, but according to the calendar, it was May 22, 1946.
Meanwhile, Nuriel walks along the coast, thinking to himself:
"Scheiße… even though I carry them every day, I still can't get used to it. I know Adelaida insisted that she walk, but I said no.
Just because I found a more comfortable way to carry them doesn't mean that every time there's a hill, I have to lift Adelaida first and then Galton."
While Nuriel was lost in his own thoughts, Adelaida managed to free herself from the leather cocoon. Nuriel had been carrying them using a sort of "bed‑backpack," while Galton was dragged along on an old sled they had received as a gift from nearby villages.
While he slept, she took the opportunity to check the supply backpack and look for their last remaining pistol, which held only three bullets.
"If another bear shows up, I'll hit it in the eye and we'll get out of here."
"You can't run," Nuriel said. "I'll carry you. I'll cut Galton's rope and use him as bait."
"Shouldn't you be protecting him?"
"Protecting him is fine in theory. Protecting him from a bear—not so much."
Adelaida let out a short laugh. "Wow, captain's rules."
"Complicated men need their manuals," Nuriel smiled.
"I'm glad your fever's gone down, but please… don't get out of the cocoon again. I'm seriously exhausted."
Nuriel's hands were turning purple from the constant strain. His knees creaked as if they might snap under the weight he carried. And after Iceland, he hadn't even had time to cut his hair; it hung down to his neck, dirty and tangled.
As he walked in a straight line southward, he spotted someone in the distance.
"Adelaida, there's a man ahead. I think we've reached another tribe. We'll rest for a day to eat."
"Fine by me. Believe me, being on your back makes me dizzy."
In the distance they made out a man with braids. Then he shouted, "Hey! Boy!"
Nuriel looked up. When the man recognized him, he began running toward them, shouting, "It can't be! I've been searching for you for months!"
Nuriel, on guard, took a step back. Searching? he thought. For months? Wait… so he's the saint the angel mentioned?
He pulled out his pistol, which only had two bullets left, and aimed, his voice tight: "Who are you? Answer me!"
"Nuriel, what's happening? Who is he?" Adelaida asked, alarmed. "Should I shoot him?"
The man raised his hands calmly. His face was creased with laugh lines, and his braids fell behind his ears. In a firm voice he said, "Relax, boy. I'm not going to hurt you. You have no idea how long they've been here, do you?"
Nuriel tightened his grip on the gun. "How do you mean I don't? What are you talking about?"
The man stepped forward slowly, his calm unwavering, and introduced himself: "I'm Kamei‑san. You're the Saint of Lightning. Galton brought you here by force; it must be a pain dragging him around. You've been here too long. You shouldn't even be in the north… you should've reached Vermont by now."
Nuriel hesitated for a moment, exhaustion written all over him. "You're… the other Saint," he stammered. "You came to help us?"
Kamei‑san nodded and gazed at the horizon, as if searching for something the others couldn't see. Then, with a hint of sternness, he asked, "Do you have any idea what month it is?"
"Probably… February, right?" Nuriel answered, unsure.
"No, boy!" Kamei‑san said. "It's already early June."
Kamei‑san gently grasped Nuriel's wrist, lowering the gun. "Sorry for the delay, but you can put the weapon down now and let me help you."
As the tension ebbed, Nuriel thought to himself, Help me? I don't have to… I have to…
Fatigue overcame him; the cold and exhaustion made his body collapse onto the snow. Kamei‑san caught him effortlessly.
Adelaida, summoning the little strength she had left, managed to lift her head out of the sack and, trembling, aimed her weapon. "Stay back!" she commanded.
Kamei‑san smiled without hostility and lowered his gaze toward her. In a calm voice, he said, "Listen to me, woman. I'm here to get you out of here. I'm not your enemy."
Adelaida hesitated. Seeing the man's face—serene, warm—she felt some of the tension ease. Nuriel wouldn't have to bear everything alone. Kamei‑san's gaze carried an unexpected calm, almost like a promise.
"Be careful with Nuriel. He's very tired," murmured Adelaida.
Kamei‑san broke the tension with a practical request: "Help me lay the Saint down."
They set up an improvised camp using Kamei‑san's supply pack, provided by Frank's winter team. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they arranged everything for the night.
Together, they laid Nuriel on a blanket; Galton would be the only one sleeping outside. Kamei‑san, unhurried, lit a fire with the charcoal he had brought. Two hours passed, and as night fell and the stars lit up the sky, they sat around the warmth.
Kamei‑san spoke first, in a direct tone:
"There's a ship in the southern port, in Aasiaat. A fishing vessel that can take us. I went from village to village looking for you; it was the angel who pointed me in the right direction. Without that sign, it would have taken me much longer to find you."
Adelaida looked at him. "Uh… I've wanted to walk for days, to help Nuriel with the load," she admitted. "But my leg… it hurts so much; I can barely move it."
"I know. The angels told me a bear bit you," Kamei‑san replied. "That's why I came. Your leg is in bad shape; it could turn gangrenous."
Adelaida, upset, asked, "Why did you treat Galton and not me? Aren't I supposed to be a Saint?"
Kamei‑san remained silent for a few seconds, the firelight painting his face. Then he spoke with bluntness, pity, and cold logic:
"I don't have a definite answer. If I had to speculate, I'd say that perhaps God examined the possible futures and, for some reason we don't understand, needs Galton to stay alive. If He didn't heal you, it might be for the same reason.
I've existed for centuries, and even so, that divine ambiguity is a concept that still unsettles me to this day."
Adelaida looked at him, her resentment slowly blending with something else: exhaustion and a bitter acceptance.
Meanwhile, Nuriel seemed to be dreaming, though the way he moved suggested they might not be nightmares.
Kamei‑san and Adelaida laughed quietly, careful not to wake him.
"Sleep, woman. I'll take care of you both. Nuriel needs to be well‑rested for what we're about to do. I don't know… after everything he went through to get here, it feels wrong to ask him to carry you."
"Let me see your leg. I'm an herbalist doctor." Kamei‑san examined her leg carefully. He noticed it had been treated quickly, but with care:
"If we reach the ship in twenty days, there will be a doctor on board who can save your leg. I can't promise miracles, but you might walk again, with some aftereffects. If we don't make it… we may have to amputate. We need to keep moving."
Adelaida, trying to sound brave, asked with tense humor: "Will they give me fish on the ship?"
Kamei‑san raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm already used to them opening up my leg," she said, "and if they're going to open it again, I want meat. I can't take any more fish from this country."
"My God, why do the women of this era have such a sense of humor? The women of my time were so boring."
Still, Adelaida fell silent; her smile vanished as she remembered that the man in front of her was immortal, like her. With a threatening gesture, she drew the pistol from her coat and slowly aimed it at Kamei‑san.
"Listen to me… thanks for all your help, but hear what I'm about to say. Nuriel is exhausted, and so am I. Even though I like you, I don't trust any Saint but Nuriel… If you dare make a move that threatens our lives, I promise you'll be eating bullets."
She was sure of what she was saying; unlike Galton, whose hand had trembled when he aimed, this time she was steady, holding the pistol like a soldier.
But the moment was interrupted by the wind blowing off the shore, a Greenland whistle that sang the cold sweetness of the north. Kamei‑san made a swift leap, almost in the blink of an eye, light as a feather. He caught Adelaida's hand, guiding it with the gun pressed to his chest, and looked her in the eyes. He said:
"Trust me. I didn't come all the way here for you to point that pistol at me."
He held Adelaida's hand, and with his other hand, he slowly withdrew each finger, one by one, without breaking eye contact, letting his eyes convey the warmth of his soul.
"You don't have to be on the defensive with me. I'm going to get you out of here. I came for Nuriel and for you. I'll protect you until we reach Vermont and, since I didn't go in Galton's place, I'll be the one to help you walk again."
Adelaida didn't know how to respond. Her eyes met his, and something in his gaze made her lower her guard. Her mind processed nothing, only a whirlwind of questions: What is he doing? Why is he holding my hand? Why is he looking at me like that?
She felt a strange mix of anxiety and calm, as if time itself had slowed down. For a moment she allowed herself to feel she could trust him, even though her body remained tense. She took a deep breath, looked away, and with a quick gesture handed him the gun.
"All right… I'll go to sleep. Good night."
Kamei‑san watched her settle onto the blanket and thought to himself, I can't even imagine everything they had to go through to get here. I don't know what was worse: the war in Europe or the cold of Greenland.
Kamei‑san gazed at the stars, waiting for time to pass. After a few hours, Nuriel woke up. Adelaida was still asleep, and Galton, still wrapped in his leather sack, lay about two meters away.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Nuriel said."What do you mean?" Kamei‑san asked."Putting that guy so far away.""After what he did to you, I don't want to see his face," Kamei‑san replied.
Nuriel took a deep breath and eyed him warily. "I want to ask you something. Are you really on our side? You seem like a good person, but…"Kamei‑san answered without hesitation: "Nuriel, don't think I'm doing this just because of some prophecy."Nuriel raised his eyebrows. "My God… I haven't heard that word since that guy fell asleep."
Kamei‑san leaned toward him. "I know you're not fond of prophecy talk. I know another saint who can't stand it either. But, to be honest, I'm not here just because of the prophecy. I'm here for you. You shouldn't be in Greenland; that's on me. I should have gone instead of Galton. Still, I'm willing to do whatever it takes for you to trust me."
He extended his hand and offered something. "Here, take it.""Is it chocolate?" Nuriel asked, surprised."Yes, a bar."
Nuriel took a bite, then ended up swallowing the whole thing. "Damn! I didn't leave any for Adelaida."Kamei‑san smiled and pulled out another bar. "Don't worry. I have more.""Why bring chocolate instead of food?" Nuriel asked.
Kamei‑san laughed. "I once met a woman obsessed with chocolate who wouldn't stop asking me for it. I figured you two would be the same.""Do you think we're children?" Nuriel replied, laughing."For my lifespan," Kamei‑san said with a half‑smile, "you're still just a couple of kids."
He looked toward the horizon. "In a few hours it will be dawn… or something like it. I know it's dawn because there's barely a line of light in the sky and the stars shift positions. In two hours, we'll depart."
He turned to Nuriel, serious. "I'm going to ask something of you. You will carry Adelaida; I will carry Galton. This could save her leg. There's a doctor on the ship who can treat her; I brought him from Asia. But we must run as fast as we can."
"The current still holds thick ice. If we try to sail now, we could drown. I'd rather you finish exhausted and cold than risk them succumbing to the water."
Nuriel nodded resignedly. "All right. I'll trust you… because I have no other choice. But if you do anything to Adelaida—"
"Relax," Kamei‑san interrupted him. "I won't harm you. On the contrary, I'm going to get you out of here. We won't part ways until Adelaida is healed."
Hours passed. Nuriel stretched after a short nap. They gathered their things. Nuriel hoisted Adelaida, wrapped in the polar bear hide cocoon; Kamei‑san dragged Galton in his leather sack.
Before setting off, Nuriel asked, "By the way… you're a saint. What kind of saint are you? Adelaida is the Wind Saint. I'm the Lightning Saint."
Kamei‑san smiled with pride. "My name is Kamei‑san," he said. "And I am the Saint of the Star."
As he spoke, he gave a push that stirred the snow around him, demonstrating his power. "We need to hurry, boy," he called from afar. "I'm sure your own divine strength will act on instinct."
With that motivation, they managed to travel from the center of Greenland to the port of Aasiaat in the south. A small town welcomed them with food and shelter. It took them twenty days to reach the fishing boat, where the crew—Dr. Steven, Frank, and Naval Lieutenant Luis Tremblay—were waiting.