Only smoke remained from the fire she created. Arin relit the flame by aiming her palm at the pile of twigs. Kilin would be proud that she could summon her ember so easily. Scor slumbered behind her, his breathing relaxed. They discovered shelter in a distant mountain where a horrible snowstorm was raging. Arin looked around the small glittering ice cave they found and shivered. Scor wrapped an arm around Arin and pulled her closer to his body. It was a little chilly compared to what she was used to. The cold made her homesick.

            “How mad do you think everyone is?” Arin sighed.

            “No clue, but I don’t think they should be mad honestly. I mean from what I’ve seen you have done nothing wrong. I’m sure in a few hours they’ll be fine again. If we go back that is,” Scor answered; Arin shook her head.

            “They hate me because I’m from Earth—the Reality Dimension. I don’t even know if we should go back. Why waste the effort?”

            “Well, if I remember correctly, they did call you their savior. Something about being a Plaque-Reader?”

            “I read a prophecy, it wasn’t even in my native language but I read it. My personal theory is that I’m called a Plaque-Reader because I’m the only one to be able to read it.”

            “Interesting . . .” Scor watched the small fire flicker. To their absolute luck, not only did they find shelter but there was already wood inside of it. Someone was here long ago.

            Arin snuggled against Scor continuing to shiver. He did as well. Bitter air pricked at her skin, preventing sleep. Sleek black wings wrapped around her like a blanket, this was much better. Arin curled against her friend, drifting into a light sleep.

            A bizarre howl filled the night, waking the two. It sounded much more demonic than a wolf. They stood and together braced the dark blizzard outside. She lit her freezing hands with fire. Scor’s dark body was almost lost in the darkness.

            “Do you know what that was?” Arin whispered. A growl came from behind.

            Arin and Scor turned around facing seven pairs of red eyes staring at them. The monsters were barely noticeable in the raging storm. A few jumped from the top of the cave creeping closer.

            “Werewolves. It has to be werewolves.” Arin watched the monsters warily.

            “There is no such thing,” Scor commented, growling as one came too close.

            “How do you know? You were born only this morning!” More monsters surrounded the two, only their red eyes were visible in the thick storm.

            “I have your knowledge, remember? Your knowledge says that there are no such thing as werewolves.” Scor explained, lifting his head in pride.

            “I’ve been wrong before,” she countered. A monster snapped its jaws at Arin, demanding for silence.

            “You have two options, die or die,” one growled. His voice was scratchy, and his words came out with great trouble.

            “That hardly seems fair.”

            “I was only born this morning! We should be allowed to run!” Scor shouted, snow began to cover him.

            “You two are child’s play. Take care of them,” the leading beast ordered. The circle closed in.

            Arin kicked her leg up, a slice of fire following her movement. They drew back mesmerized by the inferno. The wind stopped, snow gently fell for now. She released more fire from her fists, scorching one of the beasts.

            All she could see were shadows darting through the thick cloak of gray. A monster flanked her, knocking her to the ground with a single blow. She almost drowned in the white blanket, running would be impossible. Scor roared, releasing violet lightning.

            She stood again, hands a little blue. Arin wrapped her arms around her stomach, a small heat generating from her palms. Scor defended her as she warmed herself. One darted straight to her, she could see what she was fighting clearly.

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            It was a few feet bigger than her. The beast was entirely ice, not transparent, but based on how smooth and compact it was, ice was the only explanation. It swung long hooked claws at her. She ducked, sidestepping away. The beast retreated into the ring, golden zig-zag stripes flashing. They made it obvious where he was, one mark per wrist and ankle. Another mark wrapped around its neck and the end of its very long tail. Another charged twirling around, swinging the axe blade at the end of his tail at Arin. She ducked again.

            “If you let us leave we promise to never return!” Arin offered hugging herself tighter.

            “Too bad. You should have thought about that before you came, Crimsons,” the leading monster sneered.

            “Please just let us leave, my partner is freezing to death!” Scor begged.

            “What kind of pathetic act is this? You should have never come here in the first place!”

            Arin focused on increasing her flame’s strength. Red waved in the wind, lighting up the ring. Arin thrust her fist forward, fire followed the movement. They began to panic as Arin released more fire from her fists. Most of them retreated into the shadows of the storm. Only the leader remained. He lunged at Arin, ramming into her small body. Scor gasped as the two began to wrestle down the mountain.

            The two punched each other. Arin’s blows were doing nothing to the sturdy beast, she was powerless. The monster raked its thick claws down her shoulder. She screamed, clutching the stinging injury. It laughed, preparing to hit Arin again. Scor leapt through the snow roaring. He bit the monster’s golden ring around its neck. She watched in horror as Scor shook him around like a toy, then tossed the dead beast aside. Her friend spat out black liquid from his mouth.

            Another came running through the snow, frightened by its leader’s corpse. Scor picked up Arin and flew into the sky, the brisk wind was harsh. The monster chased after Scor, crying in a sad rage. It pounced into the air, long arms extended. It seized Scor’s hind legs. Using its brute strength, it threw Scor to the ground. He dropped Arin as he crashed, both sliding down the mountain. Arin rolled to the edge of a steep cliff. The snow was hard, yet despite the gnashing cold she just wanted to lie there forever.

            “Arin!” Scor shouted running after her, picking her up again. He took off, his wingbeats revealed how panicked he was. “We need to go back to the Crimsons and warn them about those monsters!” It began to hail again.

            “Should we really?” Arin asked.

            “Those monsters might be a threat to your friends. They clearly hate them, shouldn’t we help?” Scor replied surprised to hear Arin’s uncertainty.

            “I guess. They wouldn’t even believe us if we told them,” Arin stated matter-of-factly. Scor knew that she was right.

            “Get those two Crimsons!” the new leader dictated. The monsters hunted after the two.

            Scor escalated into the air with Arin cradled in his arms. The hail pelted his wings. He glided to a small ledge underneath the cliff for safety. She slowly climbed onto Scor’s back, completely frigid. Arin forgot how unforgiving the cold was. Yellow stripes lined the cliff edge as they searched for the two. They held their breath until finally the eerie yellow lights disappeared back into the blizzard.

            Scor sluggishly took off again, hail continued to hammer his weak body. Arin could see the end of the black clouds, but it seemed leagues away. As they fled the mountain, the hail turned back into snow, falling lightly on the two.

            She held her hand out unable to feel it fall on her frostbitten hands. Arin tried to light a fire in her cupped hands but was too numb to call upon her inferno.

            Scor descended closer to the ground, gliding above the snowy trees. Arin forced herself to sit up at the sight of the beauty she was surrounded by. The sun had started its ascent into the morning sky, the star’s domain shifted into a bright pink. Above her wisps of gray clouds swirled in the dawning day. She kept her gaze upwards dreaming about her old home, the Reality Dimension. There were hardly any beautiful sunrises like this. She felt such a longing to go back to the Lightfoots, to apologize, even if it meant sacrificing the beauty of Fynne.

            “Isn’t the sunrise beautiful?” Scor was awed by the sight as well. “Today may not be in your favor in your eyes but things change. You think you are alone but you aren’t. Now you have me. You have Igneous and Coyasko, and I bet you have a few other friends that I have yet to meet.”

            “You’re . . . right.”

            The obsidian storm clouds faded behind them. Scor dove closer to the ground, beating his tired wings frequently to catch air. He was careful to not do any risky tricks; Arin was too cold to hold on to his horns.

            The clouds began to part as they left the mountain range. The sun provided warmth. Arin cupped her hands again, a small ember flickered. She smiled, it was a beautiful orange. With the heat of the sun she began to feel her muscles again. Scor looked up at the rising sun as well.

            “Hopefully you will warm up.” He paused before speaking again, “like it or not we are returning to the Crimsons. I don’t trust the other option as much as I do the Crimsons, plus you are their savior. I’m sure the Crimsons aren’t all bad. It is just that one man that we need to avoid.”

            “Well, he just happens to be their king so that will be quite difficult. However, Coyasko is next in line. Then there is Oshwa who also has a high position I believe. A lot of other students are beginning to like me as well.”

            “I think next time he yells at you, you should defend yourself. He may hurt you but I’m sure a lot of other Crimsons will stand with you. They seem fairly nice, well I think so anyways.”

            “You really think so?”

            “I know so. Now get some rest, warm up, and relax.”