Years pass; the newborns grow up together, weaning off of goats milk and onto the food their father had hunted for them or grown from the garden. He had become skilled with using the large sword prototype.

During the period of digging the graveyard, he named them.

The boy was named Losian, meaning to be lost or die, perish, or be destroyed like his tribe was.

The furred dragon was named Forleosan, meaning to lose or to destroy. Because her mother lost her newborns and destroyed the tribe.

It has been thirteen years since he found them together. He had taught the boy that it was not Forleosan’s fault for her mother’s actions. Nor was it Losian’s fault for his tribe’s actions.

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He awakes slowly on the floor of the grand hall that they had made home, rubbing his eyes clean. His sister is holding him while laying on her side with one arm over him and another arm extended out infront of her. One of her wings lies over him; her other wing lazily sprawled behind her. This was comfortable and helped keep him warm since he wore just a loincloth due to his adoptive father not being the best clothier.

He had woken up before her, like normal, so he moves her arm up, crawling out from under her.

His father was likely out in the garden somewhere, hunting or doing some other work, so he goes out to walk in order to wake himself up. This was his routine.

During his walk, he hears running, tensing up as he gets shoved into the ground. This was his sister’s routine.

“I found you, Losian!” She teases, standing pridefully on top of him.

“Okay,” He responds dryly. “Let me up.”

“What if I don’t?”

He lies underneath her, silent, waiting for her to get off of him.

Eventually, she does. “You could try to fight, at least.”

“You weigh a lot.” He replies, standing up.

“Just play with me!” She beckons, pushing him onto his back before he can get back up.

“Stoop!” He whines in an annoyed tone, slamming his fists on her forelegs in a fit of rage.

She grunts, jumping back off of him. He gets up, charging her, slamming his weight into her, knocking her onto her back. Her fluffy tailtip flicking and twitching excitedly.

He grabs her shoulders, shaking her up and down repeatedly. Growling angerly at her. She thinks he’s just playing, taking her front talons and pushing him off of her, making him grip onto her shoulders harder as he tries to resist.

She overpowers him, his fingernails scratching her as his grip fails, he jumps off of her.

She stands up quickly, charging at him.

He jumps to the side before she can tackle him, grabbing onto one of her hindlegs in an attempt to trip her.

She hits him off with her tail, causing him to fall back and roll onto the ground, where she turns around and pins him.

Her tail flicks arrhythmically. “I win!”

He glares at her, almost on the verge of tears. He bites her forearm.

She lets out a small roar, jumping back. “Why would you do that?!” She whines.

He stands up, charging her, knocking her onto her back, grabbing her talons so she can’t push him off. His face is red, tears streaming down. “Sometimes I don’t want to play! I don’t like being pushed around by you all the time!”

He gets off of her, angerly shoving her talons back, running off into the forest, upset that he had been losing so many of their fighting games recently.

She chases after him, causing him to speed up.

They run for awhile. He keeps looking back at her, not looking where he’s going, he bumps into something metallic, clutching his head as he falls back. “Oww..”

She flinches, looking down, then relaxes, realizing it’s just a kid. “Aw, where are you from, kid?” She says sweetly, before noticing the furred dragon chasing him. “Kill it.”

A tall, lengthy, hairy, somewhat muscular guy charges it, unsheathing a large sword similar to his father’s - this one was a little thicker.

"No don’t!" He shrieks, causing the man to stop infront of the cowering furred dragon.

The lady looks down at the boy, tilting her head slightly in confusion. “Wasn’t it after you?” She asks.

“Th-that’s my sister.” He says timidly, his body trembling, hands clenching onto her armor.

“Come back, Malikav.” She orders. He sheathes his sword; his expression of disappointment causing Losian to shiver.

He runs over to Forleosan, hugging her tightly, she puts her wings around him.

Another guy is behind her; he wears a light grey robe made of silk. He is slightly short. “Faeger, do you think it’s possible for any intelligent animal to raise a human? Like they have done with this furred dragon?” His voice is soft.

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“Doubt an animal would care,” She says.

She stares with interest at the two children for a moment. “Tell us, where do you kids live?”

Losian is silent for a moment, still hugging his sister tightly. “We live in a destroyed tribe; ghosts came and killed everyone besides us and our father.” He lifts a hand up, pointing her in the direction of the village.

She walks over to them, crouching down to pat both of them on the head, trying to speak softly, “Can you lead us there?”

“Okay...” He says, taking a moment before releasing his hold on Forleosan, beginning to walk towards the direction of the destroyed village, pressing close to his sister.

After awhile, they arrive at the village.

The village is in a large clearing, a rocky mountain overlooking it. The sun had begun rising up above the mountain, illuminating the valley.

The one in the light grey robe speaks. “It’s so beautiful here, Faeger, just like you.”

Malikav sighs, “Would you shut up, Sabio?”

Faeger stands there, contemplating.

Their father is seen walking towards them in armor with the greatsword on his back. Faeger’s and Malikav’s armor covers their full body, their father's does not.

Their father stops infront of them, “What are you doing here in this remote place, travelers?”

She unsheathes her sword, placing it infront of his children. “That doesn’t matter. Hand over this village, or we’ll kill them.”

His expression remains still, taking a few steps forward. “You wouldn’t.”

Malikav speaks, “She would. She uses fire-type magic; it has influenced her personality enough to do so. I’m not for killing children either, so hand over the village.”

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, looking behind her as if he were signaling to someone, causing her to look.

He unsheathes his sword, swinging underhanded, hitting her blade and launching it up, letting them run. Malikav tries to chase after them, unsheathing his sword. Their father, Dyrstig, jumps infront of him, swinging his sword at his head, making Malikav block it at an awkward angle, causing him to struggle.

“You’re just bandit scum; you will be killed in the spot you stand.” He increases the force of his blade, making Malikav wince, his breathing growing harder.

"Kill him, Sabio!" She yells, pointing at Dyrstig. Sabio stands there, sulking, his head down.

“But he has children...” His tone shifting from soft to upset.

"He’s gonna kill Malikav! We saved you!"

Sabio pauses before looking up at him. “The snow is soft and gentle, but the blizzard is cold and harsh.” He raises his hands, the gloves on them rip, frost beginning to form around his hands. His features are clearer now; he has long hair white as snow down to his shoulders; his arms are skinny; his hands slightly small. He places his hands in a blowpipe formation, blowing through it, funneling extremely cold air towards him.

Dyrstig dodges, letting the man he had been overpowering free. Malikav jumps away, breathing heavily, dropping his sword, his arms hanging limp and tired. He had torn his muscle while defending himself.

He feels the air in a radius around him become colder, even though he had dodged far away. He realizes the boy is an immensely powerful cold sage.

He forfeits, “Leave my children alone. Take the village; just let us stay here.”

“Kill him, Sabio; the blizzard is unforgiving!” She beckons him.

“We’ll raise your children.” He takes his hood off, the air frosts around his head.

Forleosan tackles him from behind, knocking him down before he can freeze their father. Losian runs behind Faeger, kicking her in the back of the knee, causing her to fall over. He gets on her back, throwing off her helmet, punching her in the back of her head.

Forleosan begins shivering, unable to attack Sabio from being so cold. She tries to back off of him, her shivering intensifying.

Faeger pushes herself up, causing him to fall off her back. She lunges at the kid, pinning him down by one arm, drawing a knife. He tries to squirm out of her grasp, causing her to miss and stab his upper shoulder. Forleosan is still shivering heavily.

Dyrstig feels a wave of adrenaline rush through him, charging Faeger, letting out an enraged battle cry.

Cold radiates heavier from Sabio; the grass around them beginning to gain dew and frost; the air becoming slightly misty. He directs the cold at Dyrstig, only affecting him slightly as his blood runs hot with anger.

Sabio starts to take off his robe.

Dyrstig swings his blade before Faeger can stab Losian again; her body is cut in half, her blood and organs spilling everywhere and onto Losian. The force he put into the swing causes him to lose balance and drop his greatsword from the hand numbing cold; unable to rebalance with the swords motion, he falls over.

Losian gets up, running over to his sister, who had backed away due to the cold, wanting to go to her for warmth and to watch their father fight.

The cold grows in intensity.

Sabio had taken off his robe, only wearing an undergarment. Losian and Forleosan back away further, trying to get away from the source of cold, both of them shivering heavily, Losian tucking his hands under his shoulder.

Dyrstig stands up, fighting off the cold; his hands have gone numb, his arms hang limply. He throws himself at Sabio, slowly dying of hypothermia, he bites his shoulder. Sabio’s blood freezes over the wound immediately.

Dyrstig passes out, falling asleep from the intense cold; dying of hypothermia.

He looks around for the children; they had fled out of his sight. The fog had grown in thickness, hindering his vision.

Everything around him freezes suddenly, killing Malikav, whose blood turns to ice inside of him, his body standing still like a statue. Sabio is distraught; the radius of cold growing around him, clouds beginning to form, the fog spreading further and faster.

Losian and Forleosan look back at the expanding cloud of cold fog as they run, Losian clutching his shoulder. Both of them are crying; Forleosan looks terrified. Both of them had seen the one who had acted as their father die infront of them.

They run for hours.

They run until Forleosan becomes exhausted, falling down and lying there on the forest floor, panting heavily.

He joins her, letting himself fall down, sitting there while breathing heavily, still clutching his shoulder wound, his left side covered in dried blood.

They pant heavily for a while, until one of them is able to speak again.

“Losian...” Her voice is soft and upset. “Our father’s gone.” She buries her head into her talons.

He sits there, still panting heavily, before speaking, “I’m so thirsty.” His voice is barely audible.

He gets up, walking off, searching for a water source. She slowly gets up, following after him.

Eventually they find a small creek, where they lower their heads and drink. He mimics the way his sister drinks water, lapping at it with his tongue, forming a bowl with it each time to drink.

Normally she would flick water towards him playfully when they drank together, but now she wears a somber expression, her eyelids heavy.

He flicks water at her, disliking seeing her like this.

“Stop,” She growls.

He stands, speaking rapidly, “You didn’t stop when I asked you; that’s why dad’s dead!” He splashes a wave of water in her face, walking off quickly, trying to stifle his crying.

She tries to put her head under the water, wanting to drown herself, though the creek isn’t deep enough for that. She knows she doesn’t have the will to drown herself, regardless.

“What if you didn’t run off, Losian!? You could’ve ran in any other direction! You acted immature!" She roars back at him.

He ignores her, leaning against a tree, looking down to avoid her gaze, picking at his fingernails anxiously, tearing at his cuticles, causing blood to run from them. It’s obvious he’s crying; tears falling to the ground.

“Losian, please,” Her voice is shaking; she is quiet again. “I don’t want to fight right now.” She walks over to him, pressing her head against his cheek.

“This isn’t just a nightmare..?” He mutters, still looking down at his hands.

“No.” She nuzzles his neck, seeking comfort.

His voice is quiet, “I want to sleep.”

“I do too.”

He shifts off the tree, leaning his weight onto her, placing his arms on her side. She lays down, his body lowering with hers.

He hugs her while lying on his side, seeking warmth. He drifts asleep alongside her.