Year 1463 of the Holy Calendar – Shersian Border Town
(Alaric, age 8)
Snow came late, but when it did, it covered the yard in a thin, uneven sheet. Alaric's breath smoked in front of him as he ran.
He crossed from one wall of the orphanage yard to the other, boots crunching on packed snow. Near the far side, he dug his foot in and pushed off.
"Confirma," he said under his breath.
A thin layer of strength wrapped his legs. The next few strides bit deeper into the ground; his body responded quicker than it had a month ago. The feeling held for a short count, then faded, leaving his muscles heavy.
He stopped near the chapel door and braced his hands on his knees, panting.
"You kept it a bit longer this time." Kellan came up behind him, stick resting against his shoulder. His breath misted steadily, not quite as ragged.
"A few heartbeats," Alaric said. "Still runs out fast."
"Fast is all we'll need one day," Kellan replied. "Elaina says we're not allowed to fight full battles anyway."
Rin dropped from the low stone fence, snow spraying. "If you two ever stop running and hitting each other, the world might end," she said. "Elaina's calling. Something's up."
They followed her into the chapel vestibule, stamping snow from their boots. The air inside smelled of cold stone and old incense.
Father Corwin stood near the front, cloak still on, speaking with a man in a hunter's coat. The stranger's beard had ice caught in it; a long spear leaned against the pew beside him.
The children filed in and fell quiet without being told. Even Rin stopped fidgeting.
"…near the south treeline," the hunter was saying. "Tracks bigger than any wolf we've seen this close. Hunters think it's a Frostfang that wandered down from the deep woods."
Corwin's frown deepened. "You're sure?"
"We measured," the man said. "And there were claw marks on a birch trunk at my shoulder height. Something big is circling the town."
Sister Elaina joined them, shawl wrapped tight. "Then why are you standing here instead of chasing it?"
"Because I need people to keep children indoors while we do that," the hunter said. His eyes went to Alaric and the others. "No trips to the woods. No shortcuts across the fields. Doors barred at night."
"What about the road to market?" Elaina asked. "We still have to eat."
"The main road should be safe in daylight," he said. "We'll be running patrols along it. Just don't wander."
Corwin turned to the children. "You all heard him. For a while, we go nowhere except chapel, market road, and straight back. No detours. No exploring."
Rin opened her mouth.
"No arguing either," Elaina added, before any words could come out. "Monsters don't care if you're bored."
Rin shut her mouth, though her expression said plenty.
Alaric's eyes had gone to the spear. Old claw marks had scored the shaft. Ice rimed the iron head.
A Frostfang. He'd heard of them from hunters before, huge wolves with pale fur and breath that burned with cold. They were the sort of beast people mentioned in the same stories as fallen heroes.
He remembered the helpless weight of his body in the barrel, the way his legs wouldn't move while the world burned outside.
If something like that came to the door here and all he could do was hide again....
"Alaric." Elaina's voice cut across his thoughts. "You look like you're about to ask for a spear. Don't."
"I wasn't," he said.
"You were thinking it," she replied. "Your face is very bad at lying."
Kellan nudged him lightly. "We'll let Torren and the others handle it," he said. "Our job is to stay alive long enough to become proper knights."
Mira, standing a little behind them, nodded. "Dead heroes help no one."
Alaric didn't argue. He joined the others in a short prayer for safety, repeated after Corwin. His mouth formed the words; his mind turned them over like stones.
The hunter Torren, Corwin had called him....left soon after, spear on his shoulder, heading back toward the southern road.
The rest of the day passed in its usual pattern: chores, lessons, a little sparring when Elaina wasn't looking. Snow continued to drift down in slow, lazy flakes.
It was only that night, when the lamps were out and the dormitory lay in darkness, that the first new sound came.
A low, rolling howl drifted in from beyond the town's edge. It was deeper than any dog's, longer than any normal wolf's, the tone carrying even through shuttered windows and thick walls.
Lia whimpered in her sleep. Rin shifted restlessly. Kellan's hand tightened on the edge of his blanket.
Alaric stared into the dark, listening as the howl rose, held, and finally died away.
Hunters and knights would be moving now, he knew. Men with real weapons, tracking something big through the snow.
The Frostfang wasn't just a rumor anymore.