By the time I reached the village, I was on the edge of collapse. My hands were stiff, nearly blue, and my teeth chattered so violently I thought they might shatter. It felt colder now, the kind of cold that gnawed at the soul. My makeshift scabbard of roots barely held the sword, but at least it kept it from freezing to my skin.

The first house I stumbled upon was small, with smoke curling lazily from its chimney. I didn’t knock. I didn’t even think. I shoved the door open and fell inside, the warmth hitting me in the gut. I collapsed onto the wooden flooring, curling into a ball, the cold still clinging to me like a second skin

I didn’t know how long I lay there, half-conscious, shivering and cursing the sword, the cold, and my own damn stupidity, I fell asleep. When I gained consciousness, I immediately wished to fall back unconscious. Intense pain covered me, it left me helplessly immobile, tears streamed down my cheeks. Every muscle, every pore, every fiber in my body felt like it was being sawed by a scalding blade. with no energy to move, I could only curse in my mind as hunger hit me like a wave, hollow and gnawing. I staggered to my feet, still trembling, it hurt to move: and scoured the small house for food. Cupboards, shelves, crates—nothing. Just scraps of wood and dust.

Desperation drove me to break a chunk of wood into smaller pieces and gnaw on it, the bitter taste of bark filling my mouth.

[Have you truly sunk this low?]

The sword’s voice echoed in my mind, dry and mocking. [A wielder of my caliber chewing on wood like a starving rat? Pathetic.]

“Shut up!” I snarled, throwing the blade across the room. It struck the far wall, slicing through stone as if it were paper, and disappeared into the snow outside. Momentarily, I felt satisfaction, but it went as fast as it had come.

The realization hit me like a slap: I’d just thrown away the only thing between me and death in this gods-forsaken world.

I muttered curses under my breath, pacing back and forth in the tiny room. The hunger clawed at me, the cold still lingering in my bones despite the warmth of the house. I needed to move. Staying here would get me nowhere.

Pulling my meagre clothes tight around me, I stepped out. My breath caught in my throat.

Gone was the icy landscape I had trudged through. The streets of the village were alive, bustling with noise and movement. Children laughed as they chased a ball down the cobbled road. Merchants shouted their wares, women with baskets of groceries balanced on their heads haggled over prices. The sun bathed the world in golden light, warming the stone paths beneath my feet.

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I blinked, unsure if I was dreaming.

“Where the hell did the cold go?” I muttered, rubbing my arms.

A ball rolled to a stop near my feet, and a group of children rushed toward me, their laughter echoing. I bent down to pick it up, but as I straightened, something shifted inside me - a hunger, but not for food. It was darker.

Blood.

The urge hit me so hard I almost fell. I wanted blood. Blood. My hand shot instinctively to my scabbard, but it was empty. The sword. I’d left it behind.

The children froze, their laughter replaced by wide-eyed terror. Their gazes weren’t on me, though. They were looking past me.

I turned slowly, dread forming in my gut.

A wall loomed where there hadn’t been one before, impossibly tall, blocking the sunlight. No, not a wall. It moved.

Two crimson eyes blinked open, glowing like embers in the shadows. A monstrous figure stepped forward, its massive frame blotting out the sky. Stone-like skin, jagged and cracked, glimmered as it moved, and its breath came in low growls that shook the ground beneath my feet.

I had to run. I didn’t think. I bolted toward the village center, the monster’s heavy steps shaking the earth behind me. People screamed, dropping their baskets and fleeing in all directions.

When I reached the heart of the village, my chest burned, and my vision blurred. I skidded to a stop, spinning around to face the beast. It was closer now, its hulking frame tearing through buildings as if they were made of paper.

I cursed under my breath, scanning the square frantically. In the distance, half-buried in some straw, I saw it. The sword. It glinted in the sunlight, impossibly far, like a lifeline just out of reach.

But I had no time.

The monster roared, and the sound hit me like a physical force, knocking me off balance. My eyes darted around for another option. That’s when I saw it: a fountain at the center of the square, the water rippling unnaturally, like waves, despite the calm air.

The pull was instant.

The beast lunged, its claws slicing through the air with a screech that rattled my bones. My legs moved before my mind caught up. I dove toward the fountain, throwing myself over its edge and into the water.

Cold. Freezing cold, but not like the snow. This was different. The water wasn’t just wet; it was alive, wrapping around me like a thousand invisible hands. It pulled me down, deeper and deeper, as the world above dissolved into silence.

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was the monster standing at the fountain’s edge, its red eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t place: rage, curiosity, or maybe... fear.

Then the water consumed me, and everything went black.

Dammit, this was the second time