Thin and piercing, the snow fell on his cheeks like needles pressing against his skin.
Though exhausted from a quest whose beginning he could no longer recall—and uncertain if it would ever end—he sighed and stood back up, determined to keep moving forward.
He had searched every corner of the kingdom in hopes of finding his sister and bringing her back alive to Mayfrost Castle.
His name was Ralme, the young captain of Mayfrost's elite unit, the Veil. He had heard rumors of his sister leaving the Weavers' Guild for reasons unknown to anyone.
It had been days since he left the castle to question the Weavers' archmagi about her disappearance, but all efforts had been in vain. No one in the guild had any clue about Arya's departure—except for one young apprentice sorceress named Tiev.
She told Ralme that Arya had spoken with her the day before she vanished, saying something about wanting to go somewhere dark, yet warm—a place so hidden that not even the majesty of the moon could shed its light upon it.
Ralme was tired, but vigilant. He knew he had become prey to the unforgiving snowy glades of Mayfrost. The sun had set—only the piercing snow and howling winds remained.
By some stroke of luck, a distant cave appeared just welcoming enough for him to light a fire and rest for the night.
The endless search for Arya across the kingdom had finally taken a toll on him—mentally, for certain.
In his sleep, he dreamed of two figures, a man and a woman, speaking to him in riddles:
— "I am her blooded blade. Her sanguine gaze. Her unwavering urge to protect. Her thirst," said the man.
— "I am his illuminated void. His caring touch. His unconditional trust to keep moving. His fire," the woman followed.
Gasping for air, Ralme jolted awake, trying to make sense of what he had seen and heard.
None of it made any sense.
"Why this? Why now? What am I seeing?" he shouted, clutching his head with both hands. "Who is sending me these signs? Does this have anything to do with my sister?"
A desperate look spread across his face as he spoke.
After a moment, he took a deep breath, telling himself everything was fine—he had to pull himself together if he wanted to reach the forest.
Ralme strongly believed the southeastern forest might hold the answers—if Tiev was telling the truth.
The forest was warm and steamy, thanks to the hot, muddy puddles spread across the ground.
Two days passed.
The thick smell of wet mud filled the air. Steam hung heavy, entering his lungs and making it almost impossible for any living being to survive here for long—let alone make it a home.
He crouched low, scanning the terrain for footprints or anything out of place.
As captain of the Veil Rangers, Ralme had never once missed a clue.
Even now, in the dim light of midday, with the tall trees' tangled branches blocking out the sun almost entirely, he pressed on, a torch in hand.
Not even the faintest trace of wildlife presented itself. Still, he clung to hope.
Then, he saw something—vines hanging from a tall tree, moving on their own.
The poor visibility made it impossible to drop the torch and grab his bow, so he readied his steel sword instead.
If there was a threat nearby, he had to be prepared.
He called out cautiously:
"Is anyone there?"
The vines froze as soon as he spoke. That confirmed it—someone was behind them.
Trying to defuse any tension, he said:
"If you are human, know that I come from Mayfrost. My name is Ralme Verdar, and I'm looking for my sister, Arya."
Suddenly, he heard two muffled screams and frantic movement behind the curtain of vines.
He moved closer, carefully parting the vines with his blade—and there, on the forest floor, lay two Mayfrost soldiers. Their hands were bound, their mouths gagged.
Ralme dropped his sword in the mud and rushed to free them.
But just as he uncovered the mouth of the first soldier, the man screamed:
"THE BASTARD IS BEHIND YOU!"