The next day we woke up to a glut of snow outside our cave and clear weather. After some brushing and pushing, we managed to make our way out of the cave again and into the barren wastes beyond. We continued our crusade with enthusiasm, though very much inhibited by the new snowfall. Trudging through the knee-high precipitation was serious exercise.
Eventually, Hope started riding top of my pack since moving on her own was just too slow, but the extra weight made things more difficult for me. Fortunately, as the day went on the snow underfoot became harder packed and easier to move on. So much so that she could walk on her own again. But just as she got down, Al perked up with a worried look on his face. When we asked him what was wrong, he shushed us and continued to listen more intently.
He whipped around, staring backwards, then turned forward and started to run, yelling:
“We’re being tracked! We need to go!”
We started moving forward as quickly as we were able, converging on Al and asking a few quick questions:
“What is it?”
“Neidyr,” He responded, “They’re still further back. The snow gave them away. But they are gaining on us.”
“How many?”
“Not less than 5 or 6.”
Those revelations made us go even faster. The quickest amongst us grabbed the hands of the slowest, pulling them as rapidly as possible across the pitiless icy landscape. Lynn tried to manipulate the snow, moving it out of the way or hardening it to make for surer footholds. We ran like that for over an hour and a half before we started to slow significantly, the strain of keeping that pace too significant a burden. Lynn was struggling to smooth our path, the burden of manipulating so much for so long being significant. A glance at Al’s face, though, provided little comfort, his visage having gone as pale as the land:
“We haven’t lost them. At this rate, they are only 15 minutes out.”
Now we were starting to panic. My heart hammered in my ears and my breath was starting to come in raspy gasps, less from exhaustion and more from fear. I was still in good shape and so were the other Fighters. It was the others who were on their last legs. My heart ached as we started to run again, and I desperately tried to help a struggling Hope over the increasingly difficult path.
Lynn stopped again, panting desperately, and looking at the rest of us now:
“You should go on without us. We can’t help you survive.”
It was happening again.
We couldn’t save them. The ache in my heart grew stronger, almost paralyzing. Every fiber of my being rejected the idea, the thought of abandoning my family again more terrifying than death. But I didn’t know what to do. I looked at the others my age and saw the same anguish. I looked at Hope and saw only fear and sadness. I looked back at Lynn, ready to contradict her, but then Victor spoke:
“Not yet.”
My eyes shot to him and all I saw in his solemn green eyes was an icy determination, his expression a mask of fierce composure.
“Not yet. I have a plan. And I see what I need right ahead.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Victor had brought out several rocks to improve our visibility again and he pointed up ahead to the beginnings of a ravine in between what looked like two very steep cliff faces. We stumbled over to it and negotiated the narrow passageway. By the time we made it to the other side and looked back, we saw several vermillion dots in the distance, glowing slightly as they reflected the dim light of the sun that filtered into the misty realm. Victor urged us to stop, and it wasn’t long before our pursuers stepped into our bubble of visibility.
The lead hunter was even larger than its’ peers, towering over any of us. His yellow eyes flashing with hostility and arrogance. He also possessed distinct and strange marks, three red slashes right behind his eyes, almost like cuts, but a lighter red than human blood. He emerged from the Mist alongside 5 other warriors and came to a halt, staring at us from the other side of the ravine, hissing mockingly. As they did, Victor spoke to us under his breath:
“When I give the signal, scream as loud as you can.”
After the Neidyr were finished taunting us, their leader hissed out their time-honored battle cry, “Se’sheth!”, and charged arrogantly one-by-one into the narrow space and towards us. Victor immediately screamed “Now!” and we all roared back with our own challenge. I was surprised to find that my own voice rang particularly loud, my defiant yell echoing throughout our icy world. Just as the creatures were coming into range and preparing their breath attacks, we were deafened by a rumble from above and our vision was suddenly obscured by a sheer white deluge.
We ran as fast as we could to escape it, but we were quickly pushed away from the ravine by the milky tide pouring down from the steep cliffs of the hills behind us. Eventually, we came to a stop, and, with a lot of panting and some panicking, we managed to extract ourselves from the icy tomb that had buried those terrifying lizard people. We had been far away from the ravine and had been half buried, but they had been caught by the full tide of falling snow.
“An avalanche,” Victor said, grinning fiercely at the rest of us after we had escaped the snow, “I’ve studied this region extensively, just in case. Apparently, when there are loud noises near snow on a sheer cliff, the snow is knocked loose from its' perch and comes crashing down below.”
Al smiled wryly:
“Keep this up, and you might just take my job as the trap guy, Vick. Please don’t. It’s half of my identity.”
“What’s the other half?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Comic relief!” Julia chimed in.
“Chief irritant.” Ann commented.
“…I was going to say, ‘Handsomest team member’ but I can work with those two.”
Giddy at being alive and chuckling at the banter, we quickly began making our way away from the mound of snow we left behind us, covering our tracks as best as we could. If some of them survived that, we would have to hope that we could get far enough away from them and to prevent them from tracking us again by scent, assuming they wanted to resume the hunt. But several hours of travel later, and there was no sign of them. We kept moving, of course, but we all started to breathe a little easier again.
Blessedly, things remained rather cold even in the afternoon. Not cold enough to cause too much discomfort, thanks to the effects of the Chillpool water, but cold enough that the snow beneath us remained firm, allowing us to make good time. This gave Lynn a much-needed break from smoothing our path. We kept moving even after night had fallen, the dark and snowy world growing more and more difficult to navigate. But we were on the run, so we would have to forego sleep for now.
We travelled all night, with only the light of the Glasrock and the lanterns to guide us. We only took short rests to catch our breaths and rest our legs before we were on the move again. We kept moving all throughout the next day and the subsequent night/day cycle. It was only when night fell for the third time that it was decided that we could afford to sleep. And even then, we needed to keep a careful watch. Lynn opened an area of dry ground amidst the snow, so we didn’t have to sleep on top of it, but even so our rest was usually fitful. We didn’t even start fires, for fear that we would give ourselves away. Without our recent improvements, we would have probably frozen.
It had begun to snow lightly, covering our tracks for us as we continued to travel. No sign of our pursuers was forthcoming, for which we were all grateful. However, we kept up a severe pace to be certain that we had truly lost them. Perhaps they had been killed or had simply turned back. Or maybe they were breathing down our necks, simply more stealthily this time. The uncertainty ate at us. So did the lack of sleep. But even so, the fire that burned within us gave everyone the strength needed to push onward. We never wanted to suffer through despair again.
That thought loomed like a mountain as we carved through the hostile wilderness.
Rakshaaz
It took me many hours to dig my way out of that hellish trap. My flaming breath made short work of the snow in front of me, but I was regularly suffocated by the snow that began to fill the gap my breath created. I needed to wait to gather my strength between breaths and the more I melted, the more snow there seemed to be. It wasn’t easy to breathe, so my progress was slow and difficult, my powerful body thrashing against the confines of my accursed prison. As I dug, I cursed the soft ones, vowing revenge.
When I finally dug my way out and took my first true breath in hours, dark had begun to fall. I noticed to my fury that the scent had grown thin and difficult to follow. The prey had covered their tracks. Furthermore, none of my party had escaped before me. Perhaps such a thing was to be expected, but I was still forced to swallow my fury and wait to see if any would show their faces once again.
Dark had well and truly fallen when the first of these useless maggots had begun to show himself, gasping and crawling out of the mountain of cold. Before long, two more joined him, yet the remaining two never showed. I cursed my prey for the humiliation once again. I had lost the scent totally by now, but I was confident I could pick it back up soon enough.
I would have my vengeance in due time.