The icy wind whistled, breezing through the moonlit land which as far as the eyes could see was painted white. Everard and Ayla journeyed forth through the vast snow, both covered in thick black robes, providing them with just enough warmth to forbid the howls of winds from becoming the last thing they’d ever hear. In Everard’s hand there was a black iron lantern covered in transparent cloth, and in it, oil burning to keep the dimly lit flame which guided their path from going out.

The two younglings, both twelve of age, seemed to be searching for something. Obviously, something so fascinating it had piqued their interests and hoisted them into the Snowlands. A forbidden place only members of the Winterguards were allowed to venture.

“Everard, I fear we have made a mistake,” Ayla said. “We should have never left the fortress.”

“Walk, Ayla. We’ll be there soon,” Everard demanded, forcibly dragging his legs through the snow.

“You have been saying that for winter seasons now. When shall be soon?” Ayla argued, her voice echoing through the snowy plains.

“Oh, shut up, Ayla. No girl of Winterstone shall be a whiner under my watchful eyes.”

“I am not a whiner.”

“Then why has your mouth made more progress than your legs?” Everard said, just before halting his trek for the first time since their journey had begun. He turned to Ayla sharply. “Listen to me, Ayla. We’re not respected inside those walls. Those bearded brutes mock us and call us children whenever we try to do something they do.”

“That’s because we are children,” Ayla pointed out the obvious.

“I am no child!” The howls of the winds intensified, as if his scream had agitated them.

“Mother will not be happy with us.”

“I do not care. I am Ser Everard Whitehome of Winterstone, member of the Winterguards…”

“No, you are not.”

“I shall be, once I return with the scales of those beasts.” Everard rubbed his nose with his finger, a smile forming on his face as he indulged in the thought of being praised by the bearded brutes he hated so much, imagining himself the receiver of great acclaim.

“Those aren’t beasts, Everard! They are the gods of the sky,” Ayla thundered. “You know what the grown-ups say. Do not bring great calamity upon us.”

“I do not care what they say, I shall call them whatever I please.” Everard shrugged. “And even if they are gods, that does not change anything. I will tame the gods if need be.”

“Everard!”

“No more idle chatting. The only ride to Winterstone from Winterkeep leaves at sunrise. We do not have the time to waste. Move your feet.”

“I think we should not go any further,” Ayla told her brother.

“What do you want us to do? Head back home after making it so far? I never forced you to come, you were interested in seeing them yourself.”

“A mistake on my part. One I realised too late, but now that I have, it is my duty to stop you from going any further.”

“If so, then this is where I bid you farewell.”

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Ayla watched with heavy breaths as her brother turned his back to her, trudging his feet in between the snow as he walked further and further away. Left with no choice, she grit her teeth and hurried after him.

The journey continued with the two younglings mute as they dragged their feet through the snow, that was until a glitter in the distance, twinkling brightly in the dark, shattered the quiet and forced Everard’s tightly shut lips to curl at an angle as he said, “Ayla, do you see that?”

“Is that…?”

“On winter’s cold it is. Hurry, we have arrived.”

Ayla’s interest piqued once again, pushing her to cast off her fear as she hastened to keep pace with Everard.

As they got closer and closer to the twinkle, they noticed how much of a giant it was. Halting their steps in front of the rock-like monstrosity which was no less than a twinkle a few moments ago, a prickling sensation spread over their arms and necks.

As tall as a Scots pine and as wide as the average mountain, it towered over them. But despite the chilling sensation galloping through their spines, they were entranced by its beauty. It was whiter than the whitest of snows and more beautiful than the most prized of gemstones.

“How…how are we to take this back?” Ayla’s voice quivered as she asked.

“Heh. So this is a scale? I had heard it made the tallest man in Winterstone look a babe’s height. But this… this is madness.” Everard placed his hand on the scale, and caressed it. Every glance his dark brown eyes took at its beauty, touched the depth of his being, stirred his soul, and quickened his heart, until he was no longer satisfied. “We go further, Ayla. I am sure there is more beauty to be seen.”

“What nonsense you spew, Everard. The further we walk, the more dangerous it gets. Have you been smacked by winter’s hand?!”

“You know nothing. This is our chance to be a part of the Winterguards, and you dare falter. How much of a coward are you?!”

“I’m not going to let you hurt Mother just because of your senseless pride.” Ayla grabbed his hand, intending to drag him home if need be.

“Hands off!” Everard pulled his hand free from her grasp. “Where’s your shame? Mother has been working in that shitty alehouse ever since father died, letting savage dicks caress her breasts and buttocks for some measly change, so we can eat what? Rye bread and intestine soup barely enough to last all three of us a day. Yes, call out my pride, I do not care. This is the only way we can have enough for our family and I shall see to it no matter what!”

The earth roared, shaking intensely as if it was about to turn over. The words of Ayla stuck in her throat, unable to escape, and the lantern in Everard’s hand fell into the snow, forcing the flame within it to quench, making the dim light of the full moon their only source of light.

“Ah! What happened?” Everard hissed in a fretful manner as he picked up the lantern from the snow.

“I don’t…” Ayla’s words, once again, stuck in her throat as she shifted her gaze from her brother and watched a silhouette slowly rise behind him. “Everard… turn around,” she whispered.

Everard turned around, and at once he knew what exactly towered in front of him. He had never seen one, and right now, he could only make out its silhouette, but he knew what it was. The beast, as he had called it, had wings wider than the mountains, and itself hundreds of times taller, no, thousands of times taller than the scale which stood before them.

“Run, Ayla,” Everard muttered.

“What–What are you plotting?” Tears immediately gushed out of Ayla’s eyes, understanding that in this situation, there was little to no chance of their survival.

“Run, Ayla, and… do not look back. Today, I become Ser Everard Whitehome of Winterstone, and it is my duty as a member of the Winterguards to protect you.” Everard gave off a faint smile as he glanced at his sister.

The beast roared, so loud that it shook the heavens, and beyond doubt startling Ayla, sending her scurrying off in the snow.

Everard turned to face the beast, letting out a cry of declaration, “I, Ser Everard Whitehome of Winterstone, son of Brant Whitehome, first of his name, and member of the Winterguards… challenge you to a duel!”

The towering monstrosity gave out another heaven splitting roar, but this time, powerful enough to shake even the earth.

Ayla kept running, abandoning her brother to the mercy of the enormous beast without taking one look back. Her palms clenched tight together, her teeth biting into her lips, she ran farther and farther away, until the roar of the beast, and the courageous screams of her brother became no more than a whisper in the wind, leaving behind a stillness that was almost palpable. And for the first time since she had hurried away, she muttered, “Everard.”