Maria held Violet close to her. She hugged her tightly and saw her freezing fingers.
A strange frost was spreading from her nails to her hand.
She immediately got up, pulled out the vial of medicine, and gave it to Violet. After taking a sip, the frost stopped.
She rubbed her hands until they were warm again. She picked her up and held her hands close to the fireplace.
She was crying the whole time and held her forehead close to Violet's head.
She prayed to every god and spirit she knew the whole time and hugged her like it was the end of the world.
**
Meanwhile, in the high noon, Garrett held a long stick and was commanding the youths of the village without speaking much.
The young got used to his silence fast; their breath filled the cold with warm air.
Garrett had a battleaxe on his shoulder bigger than any youth there. He had his eyes on them until he felt something approaching him. David appeared from the mist and swung his sword at Garrett.
The collision of both their weapons sent vibrations through the snow to every person around them.
Their swings were fast and precise, but in just a few movements, it became clear who was going to win.
Every hit from Garrett sent David a few steps back. While David prepared for the next attack, Garrett was already ready for the next strike.
"That skill of yours," David said after getting a fair share of hits and finally running out of breath.
"That bloody ability of yours— is there any man you haven't sent flying?" David sheathed his sword and tread toward Garrett.
"Only a few," Garrett grumbled. He shoved his axe into the snow and glared at David. The young villagers were in awe, watching their spar.
"You haven't lost your touch." David looked at the youths, then threw an ale at Garrett, but Garrett threw it back at him.
"I don't drink it anymore," Garrett said in a firm tone and approached David.
"What are you doing here?" Garrett looked at David, then moved his gaze to the chief.
"I was sent from the capital; it was your sister-in-law's request." David opened the bottle and took a sip.
Garrett gazed down, thinking, then grumbled, "Do whatever you think is right, but don't put your nose where it doesn't belong." Garrett looked away and then tapped his axe on the snow, telling the young to continue.
And thus, time passed.
**
Violet's POV
A few months have passed since strange men came to our village. Mama seems really scared and often checks on me.
It happened after that...
I was looking out, imagining playing with other boys and girls, but then I felt like my heart was burning while my body was freezing.
It was painful and scary. I wasn't able to walk or do anything for a while.
Papa Garrett also looked worried. He often goes late at night and brings some herbs. They taste good after mama makes them. Mother hasn't come for a while.
She sends medicine through beautiful birds. I wish I could keep them, but I can't.
Violet was looking through the window. A few days ago, the kids started playing again. She liked looking at them, imagining that she was playing with them. But one day, something happened.
They were making a snowman again. They made it like a big monster and fought it. It seemed fun. I wanted to play too.
Three boys and two girls poked the snowman, and then a boy looked at me.
It's a normal thing; he'll just look away again.
He looked around and then slowly walked toward my window.
Is he coming here?
He slowly walked toward me and knocked on the window. I wanted to open it, but mama told me not to.
I breathed on the window and wrote— "Hello!"
He did the same, but I couldn't understand— "?su htiw yalp uoy lliW"
I slowly creaked the window open, just a little bit.
"What are you doing there, Hassen?" his mom yelled at him.
"Let them play!" the chief came out of nowhere. "The village owes Lady Calla. I can assure you she is not a threat to your kid. My granddaughter is playing there too."
"But—" The mother looked worried.
"It's okay, mother! Please!" The boy looked at his mother. She looked at me and then sighed, "I'll not forgive you, chief, if anything happens to my boy." She then went inside.
"Will you play with us?" the boy looked at me with big, bright green eyes.
I wanted to, but will mama let me go? I looked around and saw mama working in the kitchen, but her hand didn't seem to be moving.
She sighed and then, without turning, said, "Wear that double coat before you go outside, and don't try to run."
She definitely had eyes on the back!
I pulled out my coat and went outside. I started playing with them.
With Hassen, there were Jamie, Gor, Tani, and Sam.
All of them were around my age.
Only Sam was older; she was twelve years old. We started playing. They gave me a stick and told me I was a mage. I didn't know what mages did, so Sam told me they were people who use mana to create fire, water—anything they can!
They are very powerful! I was happy. I made a few spells of my own.
I named one "Freeze!" but Sam told me it was bland.
Then I named it "Snow Stop!" She didn't like it either.
Then she suggested a name— "Holding Mist!" It was too long, but I took it!
We played like this one day, two days, a week, a month.
Like this, a few months went by. I turned eleven.
Sometimes I got sick and got scolded by mama, but she later let me play again.
Papa had already fenced the whole village, and they said they were ready to fight any danger! Well, as long as he is here, I don't fear anything.
**
But the calm always ends with a storm...
It was a normal day for the village. The kids were playing, the men were patrolling, the women were cooking food.
The sun was slowly moving to the horizon, but even then, it was far late.
——
"Do you see anything?" A villager was standing on a watchpost on the fence.
"Nope, maybe that merchant was exaggerating.
If there were Winterbeasts, they would've been sighted a week before by scouts," another man below the post yelled.
"Man! I wish I could just go home and shove my head into my wife—" the words of the man were silenced before he could finish.
The man below chuckled, "Then what, Borris, then what?"
The villager didn't reply. The man looked up and climbed up, and what he saw brought his heart to his mouth.
He looked at the body of the man named Borris.
His torso was slashed like he was torn apart through ropes; blood and bones were everywhere.
But what shocked him most— there wasn't any sound.
He looked around and tried to yell, but no sound came out of his mouth. Then he turned back. Suddenly, his voice returned, and he yelled—
"DANGER! DANGER! GO INSIDE! WOMEN AND CHILDREN HIDE YOURSELVES! MEN COME OUT! IT'S HERE! IT'S—" Then suddenly his head was sent flying.
Chaos unfolded in the village. The kids rushed back inside. The mothers took their children and hid under their homes.
They were prepared. That's what they thought, at least.
The men and guards came out with torches. They started lighting the posts they had planted around to make sure even the darkest night would be well lit.
But fate wasn't on their side. Slowly, a cold storm was approaching the village. The men and guards lifted their arms.
They were sweating and trembling; fear was shaking their souls to the core.
The storm extinguished the torches, and thick darkness blended with cold fog, like the night sky was leaking down.
The silence was eerie. They grouped around, and then David threw a luminous orb into the sky.
The darkness diluted, and slowly they were able to see again.
But the first sight they saw did not bring relief— only unbound despair.
Many of the men were on the ground, with limbs and organs missing. The blood soaked the snow red.
The men who were too proud to ask for help wet their pants and cried in horror. One of them threw his weapon and tried running.
"Don't break away from the group, idiot!" David yelled, but the man didn't stop. He ran and leaped toward his house, but in a blink, a large figure crushed his body.
It was huge, larger than any bear, and it had horns that were rotting and felt like flesh had infected the horns.
It was a reindeer that had turned into a Winterbeast— a dead Winterbeast.
It was different from the ones with living blood, but still, it turned this village into a graveyard.