The side of his face felt cold, numb even, and the itch that crawled across his skin only worsened the splitting pain in his skull. He groaned as he tried to move, but the cold bit deep.
It was cold... so, so cold, and the darkness was no less.
His cheek was buried in frost, the chill creeping into his bones. When his eyes finally fluttered open, he found himself lying in a shallow bed of snow. A few paces away, half-buried in the white, rested a sword,
It was plain, utterly devoid of ornament or sigil, but its blade gleamed with a flawless, almost defiant sheen. The hilt, however, caught his eye, black ironwood. He knew that texture, that shade. Ironwood only grew within one forest, deep in the Rakaru estate,
All the knights of House Rakaru bore swords made with that wood, so why in the hell was one here, in this frozen, unfamiliar land?
Foreign?
The word lingered in his mind, before...
'Ugh...'
The headache returned, sharper this time, stabbing through his mind like a heated spike. But through the pain, his senses stirred, trained instincts whispering warnings,
A low growl of a beast, followed by deliberate, light footsteps.
'... Beast. And an Archer, or mage...?'
Ethan moved before thought could catch up. He lunged forward, snatched the sword from the snow, and rose to his feet. The numbness fled his limbs, the ache in his head vanished. Only the mist of his breath remained as he exhaled slowly, his body poised, ready.
He stood in a clearing, an expanse of white and ice, where the snow was beginning to harden into glistening plates right before his very eyes. The surrounding trees were draped in frost, their branches heavy and silent. Yet something was off.
Something was off, uncertain, and dangerous.
He could not see beyond the clearing.It wasn't the night that obscured his vision; it was something else, something unnatural. The darkness beyond the trees was dense, absolute, and alive in its stillness.
Ethan looked towards the sky. No moon was present, only storm-black clouds swirling above, as if heralding some ill omen. His eyes narrowed. Ki coursed through his body, heat blooming in his chest and flowing through his limbs, chasing away the cold and sharpening his senses.
Moments ago, he had been in his chamber, still reeling from the sight of his father driving a blade through his grandfather's heart, and now...
A strange forest.
A creeping darkness.
A clearing lit by some unseen... divine light.
And the sound of a growl, low and guttering... accompanied by something else.
Ethan's ears perked up.
The faint creak of a bowstring being drawn.
His eyes flared blue as Ki surged to them, cutting through the haze, focusing on the wall of darkness, but he saw nothing beyond it.
However, he did not need to. For he heard it.
He heard it, just in time. His body twisted right, the silver arrow slicing through the air where his heart had been. It embedded itself deep in a tree trunk behind him, quivering. The snow blanketing the tree fell, yet none fell to the clearing, disappearing somewhere.
From that same wall of blackness emerged a creature, a beast shrouded in shadow. Its head was obscured by that same veil of darkness, but its body was unmistakable, the form of a dire wolf, its hide bristling with jagged horns that twisted and curved like those of a ram, growing in chaotic yet deliberate patterns that somehow did not hinder its movement. They were... everywhere.
It snarled, vapor spilling from its jaws like smoke.
Ethan moved on instinct. His sword flashed in a downward arc, but the beast was faster. It lunged, catching the blade in its maw with a deafening snap,
He cursed under his breath, staring into the pearly white prison clamped around his weapon.
Tightening his grip, Ethan infused his free hand with Ki, grabbed the blade by its tip, and wrenched it free, tossing the beast aside in a single, explosive motion.
'Again...'
The word burned in his head as another twang sounded. He didn't move in time. A second silver arrow tore through the air, lodging itself deep into his thigh.
He staggered, but did not fall.
'...'
Breathing sharply, he glanced down and gritted his teeth, pulling the arrow free. Ki flared through his veins, scanning for poison, but there was none. The wound was clean, the arrow had not been lathered in a strange liquid.
He held the arrow tight in his off-hand, his eyes darting between the shadows that ringed the clearing. The archer remained hidden, no presence, no heartbeat, nothing. Even his Ki senses met a wall.
'Shit.'
He exhaled slowly, the word lost in the cold mist, as mental exhaustion began to creep in.
Of all the things to happen.Of all the nights to wake in a place like this.
His eighteenth birthday, and the first night after watching his father murder his grandfather, and now, he was trapped in this strange nightmare of ice and darkness.
How? He had no fucking idea.