With the snowstorm finally subsiding two hours before dawn, Blanc stepped outside into the pale, quiet cold.
The world around him was still half-buried, the air heavy with the scent of frost and beautiful silence.
He cleared whatever snow managed to pile around their tent before gathering what little dry wood he could find to bring a small fire to life.
It took time, his hands numb from the cold, but when the first flame caught and spread, the familiar rhythm of their mornings returned, no different from their days in the burrow or the rainforest.
With Blanc cooking breakfast, waking up the others, eating, finding a decent spot to call a toilet, checking their weapons, packing their gear, dismantling their camp, and preparing to move.
They had grown used to life in the Gardens.
They were efficient, practiced, and wasted close to no time unless they chose to take it slow on purpose.
But not that day. That day, they chose to walk.
For hours, they crossed the frozen landscape, resting only when needed, until at last the land changed.
Not for them. But for the wetlands.
Ahead, across the gap, the world of shallow waters gave way to a stretch of deep green and the towering white trees they had seen yesterday from a distance.
The roots of the first line of trees twisted into both water and dry ground, marking the border between land and water, and the beginning of the highly contested zone of the Turtle Path.
"It's safe to assume we are getting closer to a possible way across," said Celine as she looked at the trees across the gap, "If that is the beginning of the dry patch, then it only makes sense."
"Good point," replied Blanc, before a hoot reached his ears a bit of distance behind them.
"Enemies?" Miyanna asked, looking at the focused expression her husband had painted on his face.
"Only one," he said, pointing between the treeline, "An owl. Does anyone want it, or should I take it?"
When none jumped to take the offer, Celine replied, "It's all yours, my love."
"Wait here," he said as he prepared his bow, nocking an arrow on the string before he began tiptoing through the snow, his steps silent.
Another hoot reached his ears as he drew closer.
He hid behind a large tree, waiting for the owl to turn in his direction.
It was of an extraordinary white, with only a few feathers on its head light brown in color.
That was enough to ruin its almost perfect camouflage.
That, and its yellow eyes that almost drew Blanc into them, that's how out of place they felt.
A pity, really.
A beast that evolved to be the best at what it does, unmade by that same thing, only because the beast that found it evolved past the natural ways of the world.
But the Vita is just, after all.
For the owl did not suffer as it fell from the tree, the arrow Blanc had prepared for it, sending it into the embrace of the Vita almost instantly.
"I'm back," Blanc said as he walked back through the snow towards his wives and younger siblings.
"Welcome back," said Celine, offering him a warm smile as he returned, owl in hand. "It seems all went well."
"That's so," Blanc grinned, raising the owl high in the air, "And you know what this owl is? My hundredth harvest."
"Congratulations, Brother," Lune said, clapping lightly.
"Prepare yourself for another fragment," Celine said, "Harvest freely, we will rest while you are at it."
"How do you know he will have another fragment from this?" Miyanna asked.
But Celine did not reply just yet.
She waited until Blanc pressed his hand on the owl's chest, his mind falling below the surface of the world as he began his harvest.
"There are many things to take into consideration when one gets another fragment, with around four hundred harvests needed to develop a full Bloodshard," Celine began explaining, "Many of the fragments happen naturally as you keep on harvesting, with some differences appearing when one takes into consideration what beasts they harvest and their sizes, but, amongst all the fragments one needs to develop a full Bloodshard, three are certain to happen after each hundred harvests."
"Which means Blanc will have his second fragment when he returns from this harvest, right?" Kael asked while looking at Blanc.
"That is correct," Celine nodded, eyes locked on Blanc's unconscious, paralyzed body, "Just watch."
And although Miyanna had more questions she wanted answered, curiosity got the better of her as she focused on watching, thinking of asking the questions at another time.
Celine's words soon became a reality, as once Blanc opened his eyes, he grabbed his chest, groaning.
"I don't… think I will ever get used to this shit," Blanc muttered, heaving the pain away.
"Does it hurt that bad, sister Celine?" Lune asked, half curiosity and half doubt, as she watched her brother scratch at his chest.
"Oh yes," Celine sighed, "Think of it as feeling your heart being cut up by thousands of small shards of glass from the inside, as they push the walls of the heart a bit further every time another fragment crystallizes."
"It sounds even worse than it looks," Kael added, as a chill rolled down his spine, only thinking of how that could feel.
However, it did not take long for Blanc's pain to subside to the point that he was functional again.
"Finally," Blanc exhaled, his body now fully relaxed.
"Perfect," Celine said, "Drink some water, catch your breath, and let's keep on walking."
"No," Blanc shook his head, not wanting to spend more time on this, "I'm fine, we can start moving."
"Bullshit," Miyanna intervened, throwing her waterskin into his lap, "You were groaning in pain a minute ago, and now you want to walk. For Vita's sake, it's not even noon yet. We've got plenty of time to walk. You first need to rest."
The twins remained silent as they watched the marriage quarrel unfold.
"You heard the woman," giggled Celine, "Rest and we go after."
"But-" Blanc wanted to argue; however, Miyanna interrupted him.
"No buts, and no ifs unless you want me to punch you," Miyanna said, challenging him to test her.
Blanc did not understand where this mood swing came from, but assumed it was because of him.
"As my Lady commands," he bowed sarcastically, not wanting to anger her further.
Half an hour later, after Blanc was more or less being forced to drink and eat by Miyanna, while Celine plucked a few feathers off the owl's corpse, they decided it was a prime time to start walking again, while the rest of the group kept asking more and more questions about the Bloodshard from Celine and Blanc.
"And how do the scholars know that a person with no Bloodshard dies after attempting to harvest True Vita?" Kael asked.
"As with most such discoveries, there had to be an example or two of unfortunate souls that had attempted it, only for their deaths to be used as research that proved it to be so," Blanc explained, eyes forward.
"How do they die?" Miyanna wondered, curious about how a dead being could kill a living one just because they weren't ready.
"Eaten from the inside by the True Vita's soul as it tries to assimilate with the host body," Celine answered, "A True Vita has such potency, such purity, such strength that, if not ready to receive it, by getting your body stronger with Raw Vita, and not developing a Bloodshard to host the True Vita, it's strength would just rip everything apart as it consumes the person."
"Fascinating," Kael muttered, "And the scholars concluded all of this from so little?"
"That is what is written, yes," Celine nodded, "But I'm certain more experiments were made in secret, by using slaves or enemies of the Empire."
"Such as?" Miyanna asked.
Just as Celine opened her mouth to speak, Blanc raised a hand sharply, cutting her off with a quiet "Shh."
He gestured for them to follow, moving one careful step at a time, pausing after each to listen.
The sounds ahead were muffled, indistinct, too far for him to properly discern their source.
He crouched behind a thick tree near the gap's edge and leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he peered past it, toward the general direction of the sounds in front of them.
There it was. The way ahead.
A wooden bridge, broad and sturdy, wide enough for a full cart to pass with ease.
Somehow, despite the clash of climates between Gardens, it stood untouched by the climate differences, appearing well-maintained even from that distance.
But that wasn't all.
Farther left, past the bridge, where the gap widened, two more bridges spanned the giant chasm, each connecting the Moose and Turtle Paths to the Jaguar's.
Three bridges in total.
Three arteries of polished hardwood meeting at the heart of the Silver Gardens.
No hidden stone crossings.
No tunnels carved by nature or time.
Just unmistakably manmade works, guarded, fortified, patrolled by soldiers in heavy armor. Their metal glinted in the morning sun.
"What do you see, Hubby?" Miyanna whispered, too wary to lean forward herself.
Blanc exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth tightening.
"A headache, my love."