Night had not simply fallen over Riverbend — it had sunk.
The air tightened, cold enough to nip at exposed skin even though the season should've been warm. A kind of unnatural stillness clung to the village, like the world was bracing for something it remembered too well.
Arcanis stepped outside first, Merrin close behind him, both framed by the pale glow of the cottage lantern.
"Merrin…" Arcanis murmured, white eyes narrowing.
"The air's wrong. Too sharp."
Merrin wrapped his cloak tighter.
"Feels like my lungs are freezing."
A single gust swept across the village—quiet, gentle, but carrying something eerie.
Frost formed instantly across the grass.
Arcanis's breath slowed.
"…It's here."
A growl rose from the forest edge.
Not loud.
Not clumsy.
A slow, hungry rumble vibrating with ancient cold.
Villagers cracked open their doors, fear flickering in their eyes.
Arcanis raised a hand, warm but firm.
"Inside. Everyone. Lock your doors."
They obeyed immediately — not because he was frightening, but because his calm steadiness soothed panic.
The night grew even colder.
And then the beast stepped out.
---
Merrin froze mid-step.
"Gods…"
The creature emerging from the shadows looked as if winter had crawled out of its grave.
A Frost Wolf — but larger than any common record.
Its fur was white ice, crystalline and shimmering beneath the moon. Mist drifted off its body like half-formed snow, dissolving into the night air. Each step left a crackling trail of frost.
Its eyes — glacial, intelligent, ancient — locked onto Arcanis.
Every breath from its snout puffed out white vapor.
Arcanis whispered,
"…Level five. Maybe six."
The wolf's lips peeled back, revealing curved, frost-coated fangs.
It growled — a deep, cold vibration that made the wooden cottages tremble softly.
Merrin grabbed Arcanis's sleeve.
"Don't—"
Arcanis stepped forward instead.
"I won't let it reach the villagers."
The wolf crouched low, claws scraping the ground — trails of ice following each movement.
Then it lunged.
---
ARCANIS POV:-
The world snapped into motion.
White frost.
Flashing claws.
Cold sharp enough to burn.
Arcanis dodged instinctively, rolling to the side as claws tore into the ground — freezing the soil solid.
A graze of frost brushed his arm.
Pain lanced through him, biting and electric.
It's fast—
He barely rose before the wolf came again.
Merrin shouted from behind him,
"Watch its shoulders! They tell the direction!"
Arcanis inhaled sharply.
Left—!
He twisted just in time, but his boots slipped on the ice forming beneath him.
The wolf slammed him down.
Cold breath washed his neck. Claws pinned the ground on either side of his head.
Arcanis grabbed the nearest thing — a broken branch.
He swung hard—
CRACK.
The branch snapped against the wolf's jaw.
Not enough to wound it.
But enough to make it shift.
Arcanis rolled away, breath uneven.
Merrin rushed toward him.
"You're bleeding!"
Arcanis gave a shaky smile.
"I noticed."
---
SYLAS POV:-
Sylas had been awake — a habit born of listening to the river's moods since childhood.
Tonight… the river felt frightened.
When he heard the growl, his body moved on instinct.
Barefoot.
Thin shirt soaked in night fog.
Heart pounding.
He reached the clearing just in time to see Arcanis pinned beneath a monstrous Frost Wolf.
Sylas's eyes widened.
Arcanis is going to die.
The wolf lunged again, frost spreading beneath its paws.
Sylas didn't think.
He grabbed a heavy wooden beam leaning against a fence.
His legs moved before fear could speak.
Run—faster—
The wolf turned—
Sylas shouted,
"HEY!"
The beast shifted its head.
Sylas swung with everything he had.
BOOM—
The beam crashed into the wolf's jaw.
The creature staggered — frost breaking off in shards of white.
But the recoil hit Sylas like lightning. Pain shot up his thin arms; his knees trembled.
Arcanis stared, stunned.
"Sylas—! What are you doing!?"
"Keeping you alive!" Sylas shouted, voice cracking but fierce.
"Get up!"
The Frost Wolf's gaze shifted to Sylas.
Its breath deepened — mist curling thickly around its fangs.
It's going to pounce—
Sylas barely lifted the beam.
The wolf lunged.
Claws ripped across Sylas's side.
His breath skipped — blood blooming through his shirt.
His knees buckled.
But he didn't drop the beam.
He held his ground, barefoot against frozen earth, shaking but unbroken.
---
ARCANIS POV :-
Arcanis caught Sylas as he fell.
Hot blood soaked instantly into his palms.
"Sylas… you idiot," Arcanis whispered, voice trembling—a real, fragile tremor he had never allowed in the palace.
"You could've died."
Sylas gave a weak smile.
"You're… welcome."
Arcanis lifted his gaze.
The Frost Wolf prowled forward, frost billowing around its paws, preparing to strike again.
Arcanis's expression changed.
Something cold.
Sharp.
Unmistakably decisive.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Resolve.
The kind that shaped rulers.
The kind that changed destinies.
He lowered Sylas gently onto the grass.
"Stay with me. Don't close your eyes."
Sylas blinked slowly.
"You're going to fight it alone…?"
Arcanis rose, steady as dawn, his voice soft as a blade sliding from its sheath.
"I won't let anything hurt you again."
The Frost Wolf roared.
Arcanis stepped forward.