The Hornik burst through the ice, water spraying everywhere. A cloud of yellow steam billowed from its gaping mouth, carrying the acrid smell of spoiled magic. Where the mist touched the water's surface, a brittle, poisonous frost crystallized.
Most hunters would have retreated. Nirvana Winterforn ran straight toward it, holding her breath.
"Get back!" Aubin yelled from the ship. "The fumes will rot your lungs."
"I can't!" Nirvana barked, the words costing her a precious gasp of clean air. "It's now or never."
The Hornik was huge, as long as four men and covered in blue-silver scales. Its head looked like a dragon's, with crystal fins that sparkled in the morning light.
Nirvana held out her hand. Ice formed around her fingers, shaping itself into a sharp spear. All Iskarra people could make objects from ice, it was in their blood. But Nirvana was faster at it than most.
The Hornik saw her coming and started to dive back underwater. If it escaped, it would take a whole week before it came up to the surface.
"Not happening," Nirvana muttered.
She sprinted toward the water, creating ice steps beneath her feet with each stride. The frozen patches appeared just long enough for her to push off, then melted back into dark water behind her. As she ran, she crafted ice throwing knives, hurled them at the creature, then let them melt away. She made an ice hook, used it to snag the hornik's fin, then dismissed it. The hornik roared and lunged at her with its massive jaws.
The Hornik was too high above the water. Nirvana created ice handholds on the creature's side and climbed up its thrashing body. As she moved, the handholds melted away behind her. At the top, she froze her feet to its slippery scales for grip, angled herself at an impossible position, and drove her spear down into its throat.
The Hornik started to fall back toward the water with her still on it. Nirvana launched herself off using a burst of ice magic, flipped in the air, and landed perfectly on the lake surface.
The beast crashed back into the water and went still.
"Reckless," Aubin said when Nirvana climbed onto the ship. He tried so hard to be stern but his smile betrayed him.
She felt a blanket drop over her shoulders and when she looked back Drester was running away with a shy grin. She'd never heard him speak more than two words, even to her, but he was always watching, always helping in his silent way. She pulled the blanket tighter, grateful for its warmth. Now that the fight was over, the adrenaline had faded, leaving her shivering to the bone.
The rest of the group started to gather but Fannar and Heylyn got to her first.
Fannar, the free spirited girl, would want to congratulate her. Though she came across as loony at times, no one ever doubted her place on the crew. She was a force; smart, daring, and far more strategic than she liked to let on.
If Talja hadn't blessed Fannar with a hunter's role, she would've made a fine tinkerer instead. Her strengths lay in calculation and stealth, the kind of precision that turned chaotic hunts into clean victories.
Heylyn, on the other hand, would be the first to taunt her. Pride was stitched into his skin. His eyes burned with rivalry, not just toward Nirvana, but anyone who outshone him. He was sharp, restless, and far too proud for his own good.
"Did you see how fast she made that ice slide?" Fannar asked, impressed. "I've never seen anyone do that while running." She yanked the girl away from the older man's arms.
Heylyn scoffed. "Anyone could've done that. She got lucky."
Luck?
Nirvana ignored him. Heylyn wasn't going to ruin the moment for her. Aubin was proud and that was all that mattered. If she could keep scoring more wins, maybe one day he'd see her as a worthy successor.
"I don't know…" Fannar said, adjusting her glasses. "She also conquered the beast without sustaining any injuries or allowing anyone to get harmed. That's pretty impressive in my books."
"Between the two of us, she's your favorite. So you'd say anything at this point to defend her."
"This doesn't have to do with anything."
Nirvana blinked, stunned. Wasn't that against the code? A vice-captain defending one of her subordinates — openly, in front of the team? That broke rule thirteen of the Hunter's Code: no favoritism, no personal attachment.
Helyln raised his hands in mock surrender. "All I'm saying is the Hornik she slayed was probably a child. Just take a look at it," He gestured at the still body on the ice. "Weeks from now, the bigger ones will start appearing. This was nothing. Nirvana isn't supposed to be here on this hunt and you all know it."
"You're just upset because she's about to beat your record. Don't be a sore loser, Heylyn." Aubin cut in.
"Captain but…" Heylyn muttered under his breath, but his voice was swallowed by the sounds that followed. The rest of the hunting team were finally catching up to them, voices echoing across the frozen shore.
"Now we can finally celebrate!" Fannar called out, her mood snapping back into lightness.
"Yeahhh!" came the chorus of voices, a wave of warmth cutting through the cold.
Nirvana forced a grin as Fannar pulled her into the crowd.
This was more than a victory; it was a salvation.
Each of them were happy for different reasons. For some, this meant they could finally enjoy an afternoon of rest after a long night scouring the sea and landing a catch that morning, while for others, it meant tasting meat again after months of surviving on bitter herbs, tough roots, and thin shellfish broth.
A few hoisted her arms into the air like a victor, others stomped their boots in a rough dance, while some raised their knives and spears in salute.
Laughter and chants of her name rang out, louder than the waves that had carried them through the night.
Aubin noticed how she stiffened at the laughter around them, her usual confidence replaced with a guarded tension. She's about to snap, he realized.
He threw his arms around her, guiding her away from the noise, his hand a steady pressure on her back until the voices faded and the only sound was the wind humming through the rigging and the dark water lapping against the hull. Alone at last near the ship's stern, Nirvana pulled away slightly and leaned heavily against the railing, staring down into the black water as though searching for something she'd lost.
"You should've waited for my signal," he said gently. "We were supposed to attack together."
She was grateful he didn't scold her in front of Heylyn. That would've made it unbearable.
"It's the first one we've seen in months." The Horniks' sudden appearance was the surest sign that winter was nearing. The icy beast only migrated to the northern sea in the deep winter to birth their young in the icy caves and gorge on the abundant Winterfin that schooled in the cold waters. "And if we moved together, it was only going to slow me down. Besides, nothing happened."
"Is this really about food?"
Nirvana smirked. "What do you think?" Her stomach churned at the memory of the endless, bland meals that had defined their summer. "I'd fight a dozen Horniks if it meant I never had to look at another dried kelp-root."
The truth was, it wasn't only that.
She had missed the thrill of chasing and capturing wild beasts. Piercing. Twisting. Stabbing. All of the things that made the whole experience exhilarating. It was the moment every of her senses came alive. The sharp, coppery tang of iron in the air was a rich perfume. The cries of the creature gave way to the gurgle of a final breath, a sound of reverence. Feeling the warm, sticky blood on her hands, and watching the crimson stain flow against the waters—this was her offering. This was her personal ritual, a way to connect with the divine. It was the only thing she could offer Talyja. He was her sustenance. The very reason for her being.
Nirvana had spent the whole summer herding mammoths, gathering fruits, nuts and crustaceans from forests and streams, assisting her mother at home, tending to nine children. She had been doing everything except the one thing she was good at, the one thing she actually enjoyed: hunting large beasts.
She wished she could explain but he wouldn't understand the feeling. Hunting was personal to her in ways that would creep others.
Aubin laughed, but it was a tired sound. He looked at the massive beast with a mix of pride and profound relief. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. This one will keep the town fed for a while."
His gaze then drifted to Nirvana, his tone softening. "You know, one of these days, you're going to need someone else out here. Someone to watch your back when I... when I can't. Things are changing. I'll have... other duties. A husband, then a family. I just need to know you'll have someone."
She stiffened, the sting sharper than she'd admit. "I had someone. I had you. Now you're leaving me. But whatever, change the subject. This is depressing."
"Leaving? First of all, I'm not technically leaving, you'd not just be seeing me often. And it's not my fault, changes happen, right now I'm being dragged, kicking and screaming, into responsibility. There's a difference."
"Could've fooled me," she muttered.
Aubin hesitated, then took the advice she offered. "About what Heylyn said…
"Why did you bring me here to today's hunt?" she asked. I'm breaking major rules here. If anyone found out about this—"
"They won't," Aubin said. "They haven't for two years. The crew have sworn secrecy to this. Heylyn wouldn't betray the trust I have in him. Without my approval, he wouldn't even get the captain role he's dying for. So he needs to be on my good side."
She looked away. She felt guilty. It wasn't only her family she was hiding this from. Even her close friends didn't know.
"You know how it works," he went on. "Until you pass the Rite, you don't get a role. No assignment, no name on the rolls, no way to make money. This—" he gestured at the hunt, "—this is because I want to honor what Wren had started."
"So this was Wren's plan," she said. "He brings me out sometimes, lets me hunt for real, and hopes no one notices."
Aubin shook his head. "Your brother didn't think the rules made sense."
Nirvana's lips curved faintly. "To be honest, everything about Iskarra didn't make sense to him. The traditions. The politics. Keeping Eirvaleans at bay."
"He noticed your talent early," Aubin said. "Didn't want to keep you stuck training in yards and halls. Said you learn more out here."
She nodded slowly. "So he trained me like I was already part of it."
"Yeah," Aubin said. "To him, the Rite was just something in the way."
"He'd hate seeing us this serious." Nirvana had forgotten what they were arguing about.
"Yeah," Aubin said, returning her smile. "He'd probably say something stupid like, 'Stop talking about feelings and start throwing spears."
That earned a small laugh from her, the real kind, unguarded. "Then I guess I'll honor his memory."
Before Aubin could ask what she meant, Nirvana flicked her fingers, a burst of ice knocking him off balance. He yelped as he tumbled into the freezing lake with a graceless splash.
For a heartbeat, there was silence, then the ship erupted. Laughter echoed across the deck. Fannar doubled over wheezing, Drester nearly dropped his knife from laughing too hard, and someone shouted, "You get him good!"
"You're a really weird girl," Aubin sputtered, surfacing with dripping hair and a glare that didn't fool anyone.
Shaking the icy water from his hair, Aubin hauled himself back onto the deck. His demeanor shifted instantly from playful to commanding. "Alright, fun's over! To your stations!" he barked, his voice sharp against the morning wind.
The crew scrambled. A hush fell over the ship as it drifted in the field of broken ice. Every member crowded the portside, their breath pluming in the frigid air, all eyes fixed on the dark shape of the hornik just beneath the surface.
"The Light-Tether. Now!" Fannar ordered, her voice cutting through the doubt.
Two hunters rushed to unfurl the rope, its pale, luminous fibers seeming to drink the light from the air. As they lashed it around the hornik's massive torso, the rope began to glow with a soft, hungry blue light.
The effect was instant. The hunters gripping the rope gritted their teeth as the color drained from their faces. A deep fatigue, more mental than physical, settled over them—the magic's price. It didn't just lessen the weight; it siphoned their own vitality to do so.
"Heave!" Aubin roared, his own knuckles white as he took the strain.
It was a brutal exchange: strength for weight, will for wonder. Where the creature would have been unmovable, they could now, agonizingly, drag it toward the deck.
But with every inch gained, the bearers grew more ashen, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They were racing against their own failing energy.
Nirvana watched as they struggled, her fingers itching. She wanted to help, but Fannar's words echoed in her mind: "Preserve your strength; you've done enough for today." After all, she was the one who'd done most of the work—slaughtering the beast.
Still, it felt wrong to sit and do nothing.
Thanks to her father, Adiel, one of Iskarra's brightest minds, the Light-Tether had been invented after years of struggling to haul heavy things, including large sea creatures. It was a brilliant tool, yet even with it, the team was having a difficult time.
She looked over at Drester, who was watching from a corner. He had the same look of frustration she did—the ache of being unable to help when your team needed you. It felt so wrong.
But unlike her, Drester's frustration was born from a different place. She knew he was a fragile crew member, a burden who didn't contribute much. She had always wondered why he had joined the hunting crew in the first place, but a recent rumor had provided a painful answer: his family had forced him to. Either it was this or he risked being an outcast.
She shuddered. Iskarra wasn't kind to the weak, to those who hadn't found their place. Talja had blessed everyone with a purpose, almost everyone. The rest were treated like mistakes.
Drester's father was an elder, one of the few whose voices could bend the rules. Elders were revered, but their power often blurred the lines between faith and privilege. When Drester stood before the mirror, nothing appeared, no sign, no calling. Yet he was granted a role regardless.
It was another law quietly rewritten in the name of influence.
Nirvana found it hypocritical. So many people went their whole lives without a place, punished for what Talja withheld from them. But the son of an elder? He could take whatever role he pleased. Roles were supposed to reflect a person's purpose, strength, skill, and potential. Hunters were chosen for their courage and precision, and their training was brutal, few ever made it through. That was what made Iskarra's hunters who they were.
She wasn't angry for herself, but for him. What if he died on the job?
Heylyn had never hidden his envy for the feeble boy. He taunted Drester whenever he could, pushing him toward danger like it was a game.
Nirvana, as instructed by Aubin, had to watch his back. If anything happened to Drester, the elder would have her head.
Finally, the creature tumbled onto the deck with a heavy thud that shook the entire ship. The sudden release of tension sent hunters stumbling back. They didn't just collapse; they spilled across the deck like scattered stones, some hitting the starboard rail with a grunt, others sliding down against storage crates on the port side. For a moment, the only sounds were ragged gasps and the creaking of the wood as the ship settled, the crew's faces slowly regaining color.
Drester hurried from one hunter to another, dropping blankets over trembling shoulders. He flashed her a nervous smile as he passed, and—as always—she smiled back.
It wasn't his fault he was here. She'd decided from the first day he joined that she would treat him with respect. Not pity, respect. Still, there was another reason, one she didn't like to admit. A more shameful one. But no one would ever have to know. It was a secret between her and Aubin. Nirvana looked at the scene of exhausted, scattered bodies, then toward the village on the horizon. "Let's go home," she said from the helm, stirring the ship away from the broken ice.
As dawn spread, Iskarra was waking up. Smoke rose from houses made entirely of wood. Children played in yards where ice sculptures changed shape with their thoughts. Adults went about their daily work, using ice for everything from tools to furniture.
Nirvana's nose twitched, pulling her from her thoughts. The familiar scents of ice and hearth-fire were disrupted by something unfamiliar. Something warm, like meat left too long near a fire.
She looked toward the frozen woods at the other side of the sea.
Something was moving out there.