WInter felt a Mountain roll off his entire being, who could have know that dying gave such relief, if Winter did not know better he would die again if given a chance.
'...wait, no, nevermind.'
But whats more he felt something, something unfamiliar...
It felt like the wind was cutting his skin and the hair on his skin started to crawl, it was like something he had never felt before... cold.
In his entire life, Winter never felt cold, he had always been immune to it to. This gave him an advantage allowing him to survive longer than anyone thought that he would. most poeple die of the cold in the Ruins. There is no reliable way to create heat without giving away one's location.
Winter was not sure why, but he always suspected that it had something to do with the snowflake patterned rune on his left chest.
And now... that suspicion was confirmed.
After one of the Bandits had pierced his left chest, it had also damaged the intricate pattern engraved on it.
Before dying he felt the same sensation as now.
After finding the awnser to the mystery he was left with even more questions.
'Where did i get the rune from?'
'Did someone put it there or was i born with it?'
'And why te hell am i still around!?'
Winter looked down on the body of a frail boy wo was currently bleeding from a ghastly wound on his chest. The boy had white hair, and grey desolate eyes.
As Winter watched blood flow from the boy's he noticed two things.
One, was that the boy... or well, WInter was still breathing.
Two, was that Winter was slowly ascending higher into the air.
'Am i... going to heaven?'
'...Surely not...'
Winter was not religious, and believed that the god's were too cruel to make a perfect paradise for their... followers.
He did believe in hell, but he was currently leaving that behind...
Winter started thinking about his life until now, and started counting his blessings.
'one... tw-, wait no, just one'
His only blessing was the immunity for cold.
He wanted to count his misfortunes, but stopped after losing count.
'Fate truly is unfair.'
It felt like the Gods had forsaken him, cursed him and prosecuted him troughout his entire life, as if he had commited the gravest of sins.
'Existence...'
After pondering About his life, he had decided to let it go and think about the situation at hand. He still had no idea what was happening...
...Until a crazy idea entered his mind.
'Am i ascending!?' He thought, excitement and hope found it's way to his heart.
...Or soul, since his body was still laying on the ground, a thin layer of snow was acumulating on his body.
But then he thought otherwise.
'Yeah right, as if that would happen to me...'
After losing all hope once more he braced himself for the inevitable darkness that would come and consume his soul in death.
just as a blinding light flashed in his vision, a thundering voice of unkown source resounden in his very being, reverberating deep within his soul...
[Do you wish to asc-]
But before the voice could finish, Winter willed to awnser yes, and the voice followed...
[Then rise... and claim you place in the heavens]
'What the fu-'
But before that thought registered, the voice that seemed to come from within resounded once again...
[Reach...]
[...The...]
[...Altar...]
[...To return...]
'No... way...'
After that, the Blinding light dissapated and Winter found himself surrounded by nothing but a desolate void.