Maline’s senses awoke to a rush of brisk air, a jolt coursing through her as she was forcibly pulled along by a firm hand. The chilling touch of the frigid air gave way to her awakening perception, the sounds of crunching footsteps entering her ears.

Beneath her, a smooth surface hauled by, its temperature so extreme that her legs felt nearly completely numb.

As her consciousness sharpened, she struggled to push herself up from the snow-covered ground.

But instead of finding solid footing, she encountered sharp barbs that marred her skin, hidden under the freezing snow beneath her.

Her gaze was greeted by a pristine white expanse beneath her, the grains of snow crushed by her dragging form.

As she gained awareness of her body, she felt thin scratches continuously raking at her legs as they passed.

Casting her gaze upwards, she caught sight of a figure that appeared vaguely familiar–her captor. He walked steadily, tired of bearing her weight upon his shoulder.

Though his figure obstructed her view, the sight of distant snow-capped mountains brought a fleeting sense of security. The land here was not as… flat.

Stirred by this thought, fragments of memories fought for recognition, yearning to pierce through the fog that clouded her mind.

Though her blank eyes reflected some semblance of thought, they could not grasp at what was beyond her reach.

Desperate for answers, she looked up at her captor, her voice barely a whisper amidst the barren landscape.

"Where am I? What's happening?" she implored, her words apprehensive.

Uninterested, the man continued walking, his grip only tightening on her wrist.

Determined not to be dismissed, Maline mustered her courage and spoke once more, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

"Please, can you speak to me? Can you just let me walk?" Her outstretched hand sought to push herself up once more, but her legs remained unresponsive, refusing to move as she wished. They had been robbed of their strength by the biting cold.

Inevitably, she found herself sprawled upon the icy ground once more. She felt disoriented as she struggled to assess her surroundings.

Her voice trembled as she began to ask more questions, her words a stark contrast to her previous unresponsiveness.

“Can you talk to me? Please?” She began to shake, the reality of her situation dawning on her. She was not here of her own volition, and it seemed that she was not particularly welcome.

"Can you please tell me where you're taking me?" she pleaded, searching the man's figure for a flicker of understanding and compassion.

The man's response was swift and curt, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and menace. "Would you be quiet!" he demanded, a vice-like grip tightening further around her wrist as he yanked her through the snow.

His harsh words dampened her spirit and silenced her inquiries momentarily, but as her mind grappled with the gravity of the situation, a newfound resistance welled up within her. She refused to be silenced, to be led blindly into a fate uncertain.

Summoning a fierce determination, Maline decided to fight against the man's grip, pulling at his arm and digging her naked nail beds into his hands. Though her attacks were feeble, each strike carried an intent to break free from his control, a desire that dialed the intensity of her struggle.

“You’re testing my patience, girl.”

In response, the man unleashed a swift and brutal blow as he turned around, striking Maline across the face. Pain erupted, the searing heat tracing a path across her cheek where a scar from her past battle with grief and loss still lingered.

The pain seemed to remind her of something as it traced the fine lash mark. Instead of cowering in fear, Maline's resolve ignited.

"Tell me where you're taking me! What do you want from me?” Her voice was still faint, but her actions did not mirror this. She re-focused on making the journey even more difficult for her captor.

Flipping her body, she tangled her arms within his grasp and found the strength to trip him with her foot.

Met with legs akin to brick walls, a faint, dull pain spread throughout her leg, crumbling onto the ground once more.

As her eyes locked onto her fingernails, she spotted a hint of dirt within her wounds, almost cleared out by the snow.

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The man noticed her silence. “Do you want me to remind you?” His grip intensified, creaking noises emanating from her wrist.

Pained, Maline asked, “Remind me of what?” She noticed that he spoke with a smile.

The man offered no answers, his steely gaze opaque to her pleading. He pressed on, his footsteps never faltering.

“You’re on your own,” the man said, abruptly releasing his grip from her wrist.

A rush of pain forced her to contract into a fetal position on the ground, the expansion of the bone in her wrist from its compressed state causing her to let out a groan, clutching it in her free hand.

“Let’s see how you fare.” Leaving those words lingering in the frosty air, his footsteps ceased.

Opening her eyes, she saw that he was no longer there. Stretching out around her was an icy tundra. Low-reaching mountains showed through the fog farther in the distance, leaving her with a feeling of hopelessness. She was stranded.

Looking in front of her though, she noticed that there was a section filled with formations, akin to spires. Taking it all in, she thought about how she would make it there.

Lifting herself up with her arms, she had to rely on her left as her right wrist was still in immense pain. She positioned her legs in front of her, letting them heat up away from the snow.

She finally began to feel something in her legs, a monumental relief to her. She knew that, in her weakened state, she had to keep moving to find shelter before the cold overtook her completely. She pushed herself up, using her left hand to support her injured wrist.

She struggled to rise, the muscles in her legs protesting the effort.

Step by labored step, she forged a path through the treacherous terrain. Each footfall seemed to sink into an endless expanse of snow, twigs, and stones.

As she neared the formations, she saw that they resembled crystalline trees, inverted as their leaves froze the ground. Covered in stalactites, they almost looked completely solid.

Continuing her trek, she found that the formations only increased in number further inside, along with the stones that lay at the base of every “tree”.

As she went deeper, the stones began to resemble a brick road, reflecting an ivory tone into her eyes.

Only, she began to notice that these stones were of peculiar model. some were long, some resembled rakes, some of… cranial structure.

She thought further as she observed, finding holes in some of the rake-like stones which resembled ribcages.

She realized that these were not stones, but skeletons. A path littered with them.

Immediately, she urged herself to leave but noticed that this path of bones ended only a few strides later.

When looking forward, the frozen canopy above was sufficient enough to ward off the frigid air, and she could already noticeably feel the air around her warming as she walked.

She couldn’t stop; she wasn’t sure if her legs would hold out until then, so she kept walking.

Maline continued to scan her surroundings, searching for any sign of movement or danger. She knew she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

The eerie silence of the place was broken only by the soft crunch of her footsteps on the bone-strewn ground.

The temperature in the cave-like space gradually became more bearable, and she felt a faint sense of relief.

The icy canopy overhead filtered the dim light, casting eerie, blue-tinged shadows that danced across the numerous stalactites like wall-mounted chandeliers.

As she moved deeper into the cave, the path of bones came to an end, and the terrain shifted.

The ground was no longer covered in skeletons, but instead, she found herself walking on a mosaic of icy tiles, each carved with intricate patterns and symbols.

The air grew colder once more, although more bearable than outside, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

As she felt that she could handle this temperature, she sat down next to one of the dead trees to recuperate.

She knew that it would be best to find a way out of this place, but it seemed to be the only semblance of safety she had.

Maline's curiosity got the better of her, and she tilted her neck down to examine one of the carved tiles. Each carving depicted scenes of struggle and torment, figures trapped within swirling vortexes of wind, their bodies contorted in anguish.

Who would carve such a thing into every tile? Each was different; the statures of their bodies, their expressions–they were all unique.

Unseen to Maline, the air around her began to stir subtly, an imperceptible shift in its movement.

Just a few strides away, a patch of cold air seemed to defy the natural flow, swirling with an ethereal presence. It appeared formless, yet intently focused on the young woman.

Within it, surrounding wind flowed throughout, as if they were one and the same.

Maline, still unaware, continued to sit by the tiles, her nailless fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the frozen ground.

Without warning, she heard two cracking resounds emanating from the cave walls opposite her, a stark interruption in the prevailing silence.

She felt her consciousness “fold” in a way. It flickered momentarily, her vision sharpening in a prismatic onrush of colors reminiscent of a distant memory.

The colors in her vision began to vary as she was greeted with a scene, separate from reality.

In this scene, she failed to notice two stalactites falling, creating gaps in the walls, and circulating air into the cave.

One of the holes was offset, while the other was placed directly in front of Maline.

Through the offset gap, the formless entity was sucked out, only to be thrust back into the cave through the aperture directly before Maline. It slipped by undetected, invisible to the naked eye.

Maline couldn’t sense it as even the stalactites hadn’t enough time to completely fall.

The formless being entered her nose and deliberately blocked the circulation of air inward and outwards, suffocating her. It even managed to lacerate her skin at the entry point.

The vision was short but sufficient to warn Maline.

With a quick, instinctive roll to the side, she evaded the attack. The adrift wind tore through the icy wall behind her.

Momentarily thwarted, it “watched” as Maline's form shifted away from its intended target.

Maline scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. She realized that she had to get away, but wasn’t sure her legs could carry her far.

With no other choice, she began to run further into the depths of the cave.

Fractures in the ice echoed around her, accompanied by whistling gusts of wind both ahead and behind her.

Her legs strained against their limits, but determination spurred onward. In the distance, she spotted a small opening in the cavern wall and hurled herself towards it.

With her last remaining strength, Maline burst through the opening, leaving behind the relentless assault of the wind.

The passage led her to a place untouched by the ferocity of the storm, affording her a brief respite.

She still had no idea what had attacked her, but she knew now that it couldn’t affect her directly.

As she situated herself within the sheltered space, her eyes darted uneasily throughout the cave.

The taste of fear lingered in her mouth, yet there was no time to dwell on the recent attack.

She was safe, for the time being, but trapped under the watchful gaze of that… thing.