Our warband was treated to a half moon that evening, its rays illuminating the steep mountain paths we were traversing. A part of me wished that I had Victor’s Sight as we navigated the treacherous trails, my eyes straining to stop me from falling to my death. Then again, I wouldn’t have been able to hold the unrelenting pace that had been set by our undaunted allies if that were the case. The Maegar were seemingly unbothered by both icy terrain and subpar lighting, a fact that I envied them for.
Still, though, us humans managed to keep up with the warband as we hastily traversed narrow pathways and thin crevices. Their legs were long, allowing them to hold a respectable clip, but they lacked the enhancements that all three of us had received from our Gifts. I could feel my own Gift pulsing along with my heart as we moved along. Al, lacking physical enhancements, struggled the most, so he spent some time being carried by me and one of the more accommodating Maegar warriors.
We held our pace for that evening and through all the following day, stopping only for short sustenance breaks. Once day finally broke, the mountain trails became less dangerous thanks to the improved visibility. I allowed my mind to wander, as one does when faced with a long and monotonous trudge. I daydreamed of warm fireplaces and hearty meals. Of a stable roof above my head and the simplicity of village life. Our necessary foray into the wilderness in the wake of the attack on Brynn had seen all of that dashed to pieces, replaced with a pitiless sky, and rushed meals around weak campfires. Hardship had strengthened all of us, but it had taken something as well. Perhaps it could be called innocence, or maybe vitality, but I saw the weight of our journey in the faces of my friends. I imagined something similar could be seen in my own eyes. And I had a sneaking suspicion that our wanderings had just begun.
I meditated on this as I crunched hurriedly over the ice of a narrow ridge. I thought of Eithan and Hope. Did I want them to grow up like this? I hoped to have children of myself one day, and even the thought of my imaginary kids being forced to navigate a narrow mountain ledge in an unfamiliar land churned my stomach. The life of a nomad was a hard one, and I prayed that we would be able to find a place to call home as soon as we could. For now, I forged onward.
The following evening, we were forced to call a halt. The girls, Al, and some of the weaker Maegar had been pushed near their limits, wiping cold sweat from their brows as they fought for air. Most of the rest of our party weren’t in much better shape, our bodies steaming in the chilly mountain air as we also huffed with exhaustion. Only Goran seemed mostly unbothered, though he was the one to call the halt, adding in both Maegar and human language:
“We are closing in on the enemy. Rest as well as you can for now. We are an hour away. I intend to be there by daylight.”
Nervousness soon overtook our gratitude, as we realized that our rest would be short lived, and that conflict would soon be upon us. Even with our natural resistances, steady exposure to the cold threatened to disrupt our physical recovery. Our Maegar friends provided a quick solution. Their natural talent for flame manipulation allowed them to increase their body heat at will. Each one of our newfound allies radiated heat like tiny campfires, so we stuck together in perfect comfort. I forced down one final meal and shut my eyes for a few hours.
Seemingly the next moment, I was being shaken awake and our warband was creeping its way towards the shelter where the Maegar were holed up. We were moving slowly now, deeming secrecy more important than speed now that we were close. As we slunk down the snowy pathway, Ann snuck up next to me, apparently wanting to say something:
“Hey, kid brother. Remind me what was the plan here, exactly? When things inevitably go south, how should we fight alongside our newfound allies? Formations, tactics, the good stuff.”
Eager to help our new friends, we had decided to join them on this dangerous expedition without much discussion at all. It had just felt like the right thing to in the moment. Furthermore, we wouldn’t get stronger just sitting at home eating lotuses. Common sense and proven experience showed that people grew stronger after successful combat and arduous training. Not to mention that we wouldn’t be able to gain more resources without contributing to the village. We needed to be tougher if we wanted to survive, and helping on missions like this was the best way to do just that. This was all tacitly understood by our entire group.
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Now, though, that seemed to be a hasty decision. We didn’t have a good idea of our allies’ capabilities, nor how we would best fit into their formations. Without a plan, we threatened to be more burden than help. In all the excitement, I had totally forgotten to come up with something. Ann seemed to have faith that I had already figured all of this out and solved the problem. When I looked into her eyes, I saw nothing but confidence in my ability to come up with a plan and her capacity to execute it. I couldn’t let that down, so I schooled my face in a thoughtful expression, saying:
“Hold that thought. I want to get a good understanding of what we’re up against and what Goran has in mind in terms of strategy. Once I know the lay of the land, I can formulate something concrete.”
Nodding in satisfaction, she fell back behind me. I heard her whispering what I had told her to Julia and repressed a slight shudder. They had high expectations for me, and I would do whatever I needed to in order to meet them. As we used the predawn rays to negotiate the final stretch of the mountain trail, my mind wrestled with the complicated task.
Before I could come up with anything worthwhile, Goran signaled a halt. Nonverbally, he indicated that he was going on ahead. I caught his attention, indicating that I wanted to join him, and he silently agreed. Goran, I, and a small contingent of elite Maegar warriors made the final leg of the journey alone and in total silence. We rounded a final bend and, at Goran’s nonverbal command, went prone to ensure we evaded detection. Crawling towards the edge of a snowcapped ledge, Goran gave all of us a bird’s eye view of the situation.
I held my hand in front of my mouth, attempting to mask even the mist of my breath, as I slunk towards the vision of what could well be my grave.
A few hundred feet below us was a large, flat plane surrounded by four other mountains, not including our own. Just across from us was a large, domelike construction of ice and snow. Its surface was marred by cracks and dents, but its walls were clearly thick and almost impossible to penetrate. It was built connected to a mountain at its back, giving an onlooker the impression that the fortress was growing out of the rocky face of that sturdy peak. A closer inspection showed that the entire edifice had been construction with bricks of ice, stacked on top of one another, and frozen together to create the shelters curved façade. Only one entrance could be seen. Two large stone doors in the center of the milky white wall provided the only obvious egress from the domicile. And they were totally swarming with monsters.
It was hard to know for sure, but there were probably close to 500 Harai mobbing around the entrance, and of different varieties. Most were weaponless, apparently preferring the long and wicked claws that tipped their hands. These claws mostly seemed to come in a variety of three colors, a bright silver, a dull bronze, and a light blue. This seemed to establish a hierarchy of strength among the creatures, with the silver clawed beasts demonstrating superior ferocity and physical abilities relative to the others, and the bronze clawed wraiths being faster than the blue clawed beasts.
The true elite, however, were the riders. Around 40 or so Snowwraiths were mounted on Eirblaidd, their lupine mounts only adding to their ferocity and status. These Harai almost exclusively sported silver claws, but they also possessed lances and sabers of a sky-blue coloration that sparkled slightly in the first vestiges of daylight. Among this indomitable pack, one Wraith stood out even further.
Instead of the snow white of the rest of his pack, the most imposing rider sprouted fur of coal black that stook out like a sore thumb in the sea of white. He wielded a spear of bone white in one hand and a curved obsidian longsword in the other as he exhorted his men onward. He, or rather It, chanted in a deep, throaty call that could be heard from all the way where we were, carried to us along with the basso calls of all the rest of the Harai warband. Most disturbing of all were its claws, which shone a bright gold that could be seen even at this distance.
The Harai laid siege to the ice hardened mountain fortress as they scratched and pawed at the solid stone doors. Doors which seemed to grow less solid by the moment as they weathered the relentless barrage of attacks. It was clear that they had been under assault for a while and were doubtless on the verge of giving way entirely under the weight of the besieging army.
We took all of this in for a few minutes, before steadily retreating from the ledge and walking back towards our party. My mind was racing at what we had just seen. There were perhaps 200 Maegar in our gang, meaning that we were outnumbered more than 2 to 1. Even if each of our soldiers was stronger individually than the low ranking Harai, we were at a severe disadvantage. A disadvantage that was only ameliorated by the fact that we had the element of surprise.
We would need to have one heck surprise. Assuming we wanted to survive.