“It will be a two month journey to cross the Great Ice Plain and an additional fortnight through Myz, the barren land. Though it could take considerably longer depending on what you encounter. Blizzards can last weeks at a time, and that will be the least of your worries.” Gereon instructed me as we crossed the silent forest.

“Surely there is something to feed me on the journey? I have heard many tales of the cannibals. They cannot feast upon only themselves.”

Gereon fell quiet at this. “You do not understand. The cannibals will always have plenty as long as they offer up a third of their own to their accursed obelisk. Thus, they hate one another, but they will never succumb to the cold. You, on the hand, must cut deep through the ice until you reach water. Fish will be your sustenance until Myz. Then, only the Potentate may help you.”

“I have heard tell of land birds and bears surviving out there. What’s to stop me from eating them?”

The soldier snorted. “The birds are a wrathful sort. You may slaughter one or two, but they will gather in great number to call for the white bear. And while you bested a wolf, you will not survive the bear.”

“Is there nothing out there that is friendly to men?” I asked, exasperated.

“There is one creature. If you find yourself beset by the cannibals, or worse, catch the passing interest of one of the ghost men, you would do well to pray for Ursodiae. Of those who dwell in the south, they are the only ones who swear fealty to men. A white bear will eat you as it would any other creature. An Ursodiae will keep you as its own young. They are a furred animal with six legs, and their heads are oblong with small ears. Their snouts hold two rows of teeth, which I am told can regrow quickly. On their backside, they have the tail of a fish which helps them swim,” Gereon said.

“How shall I win their favor?” I asked, keeping pace with the soldier.

Gereon kept his eyes ahead, searching for something as he began his tale. “It is said after a long, brutal winter, the mother of their kind fell dying of hunger on a rocky beach. Along came a fisherman who took pity on the poor animal, gaunt and breathing its last. Out he went into the sea, but he could ne’er catch a single fish. Growing in desperation, the fisherman cried out to the Potentate for aid. The Potentate answered and asked why the fisherman was so distressed, seeing as He ensured the man’s belly was full for the long season. The man pointed to the animal dying on the shore and begged for just five more fish to save the Ursodiae. The Potentate was moved and spoke to the fisherman, ‘For your sorrow, I will give you a silver threaded net. With this, you will not catch five fish nor five times five but fifty times five. Thus you may be assured that not only this animal, but all her kin will survive’. The fisherman’s small canoe nearly capsized thrice over as his boat was filled to the brim with the creatures of the sea. The Ursodiae ate heartily and swore her sons to men’s protection and her daughters to always lead the way home. From that day forward, men fashioned little fish of silver, to forever remember their friendship.”

I nodded along, noting to keep this in mind. I had to use every advantage I could gain out in the waste.

We finally came to the crest of a hill, and Gereon let out an exhausted sigh as we stood overlooking the city of Terminus. Or rather, what remained of the former Terminus. For a great many mile, I saw nothing but snowy ruin. There were houses and marketplaces and great ramparts, all abandoned and lost. But past that, from this height I could see a lone spear rising in the distant cityscape and a grey line stretching across the horizon. Regardless of what we would find, I knew that was my destination. I was immediately thankful that Gereon had decided to join me. Even if I crossed the forest unharmed, I doubted my ability to venture forth through this crumbling city.

“We shall travel to the west for some time.” Gereon scanned the surrounding area. “There we shall find one of the main thoroughfares to hopefully take us into the populated parts.”

“What happened here?” I asked.

“Just the passage of time,” my companion answered as he surveyed the wreckage of a dying civilization, “after the couriers ceased, this city had no reason for being. The wiser among us left when they could. The loyal fled soon after. Terminus is the last of all cities in this land, and the day is coming when it shall be no more—if it has not already fallen.” Gereon spoke with a heartbreak that I understood all too well.

I cast my thoughts back to Zodiak and the streets that never ended. I knew a day was coming for my beloved as well. I had seen it with my own eyes. It is a tragedy that a man should die unloved. Greater still, that your home should meet such an end. And yet, I knew this was the fate of all things. That which goes unloved shall surely die, and that which forsakes love, more surely still.

We set out on our trek and soon we entered the outskirts proper. I was surrounded by the voices of the dead, and I did not fail to pay attention. Terminus was never a city without the cold, but there were days when great stone chimneys blazed, when windows went unshuttered, when minarets flung themselves proudly into the sky.

All had fallen to silence. There were no men barking prices for their goods or women singing songs or children playing in the streets. All we had for company were the memories of the dead and the joys that had long fallen to sorrow.

And as we pressed on through what had once stood and what might’ve still been, we heard the echoes of shouting. Glancing at each other, we crept silently along the ruins. Finally reaching a collapsed building, we hid behind a tarnished windowsill while we observed the source of the noise. Two women were among a threatening crowd of scoundrels being led out from the city.

“Who do you think they are?” I whispered.

“There are many scavengers who prowl here.” Gereon scowled. “The women I do not know. But I cannot leave them unaided. You may conceal here for the time being.”

“And leave a friend to fight alone?” I raised my own sword. “I think not.”

Looking out, I saw one of the women standing confidently, arguing desperately with the bandits. She looked to be in the later years of her youth, though she was still beautiful nonetheless. Her face was regal with chestnut hair and brown eyes, but the way her mouth upturned gave away a familiar sneer that was only found in the haughty parts of aristocracy.

The other was on her knees. Her cloak and dress were ripped, barely concealing her modesty. It was clear the two were sisters, given the similar features. However, her blond hair was a mess that fell to her shoulders. It was clear she had been dragged and beaten. Strangely, she held a great sword close to her chest. Her heart-shaped face pressed against the blade, which had been wrapped in fine cloth. She was muttering a prayer, but I could not make out the words at this distance. This woman wept as a mother for her own child, and I wondered at the strength of her devotion, so much so that these men had obviously relented and allowed her keep the weapon in hand.

We stepped forth from our perch, and we strode forward to the men who numbered a half a dozen.

“What is your business?” Gereon brandished his sword, catching the crowd’s surprised attention.

I was close behind, keeping my eye on any who would try to attack first.

The men glanced at each other until the leader finally stepped forward. He looked to be of thirty years age, and his face was not dissimilar to that of a hawk, with a pointed nose and beady eyes. His lean body was covered with furs like the rest of the men, but I could tell he was someone who had survived great hardship and was accustomed to this harsh land. Around his right wrist he wore a steel shackle, though I paid more attention to the sword by his side.

“None of yours to interfere with,” the man said as his companions began to slowly encircle us.

“That’s quite far enough,” I said to one man wearing makeshift armor adorned with animal bones. He stopped just a few feet away.

“I’ll give you one warning,” the leader said, keeping his sword sheathed. “You may turn around and carry on your way unharmed. Upon my name, Crixus, I swear it.”

“You speak as an honorable man,” Gereon said, “and yet you hold two women in such manner?”

“I have a debt to settle with these women. They presumed to cheat me out of my fair wages. And when they hid behind the laws of Terminus, they did not think I would seize my recompense.”

“He lies!” The taller woman yelled. “I took these tribesmen to work in my house. Instead, they ate and drank everything we had! And when I refused their pay, they took us in the night!”

“You’re right about that last part!” Crixus struck her across the face, and she fell upon the snow.

The other woman was still on her knees. Though she had not stopped praying, her eyes fell pleading upon mine. Frozen tears streaked across her face, and I saw she was all too innocent. My heart could not help but be moved.

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“Slavery would be too good for you.” Crixus spat on her. “I have worse in mind.”

He turned to Gereon. “Her father’s house is in ruin. In the great tunnels underneath Terminus, we worked her fisheries for months to no avail. We ate and drank, yes, but only what was given. We labored tirelessly, and she delayed again and again until we could wait no longer.”

“If what you say is true, then let us go to Terminus, and there we will find the truth. Perhaps there is still a way to end this amicably.”

The man burst out laughing. “You think the city cares about the tribesmen? We, who dwell outside their walls? You are a fool. I know how my kind are treated within the gates. I know it all too well.”

“Please! Help us!” The taller woman cried out, her eyes growing wet. “We have done no wrong! They deceive you! We have never mistreated them!”

Crixus stomped on her head. “Shut up!”

“We cannot leave without assessing the truth of the matter,” I said, interjecting. “And if there is no recourse to the justice of the city, may I propose an alternative solution?”

“What say you?” Crixus turned to me.

“A trial by combat. You select two champions, and we shall fight them on the women’s behalf. If we are slain, then we can be assured you carry the Potentate’s favor. If not, then we are the right, and we shall take them back to Terminus.”

I was surprised how easily I spoke those words. Though honor commanded me thus far, I had no eager mind to risk my life. I had a duty to reach Calrathia, and this was a dangerous detour. However, I could not leave the matter be, not after seeing the blond woman’s tears.

Crixus frowned at this. “What offer is this? For you to approach with just two men means you are swordsmen of remarkable skill. And it is strength of arms that proves the victor, not the will of the Potentate. Better to face you six on two.”

I shrugged. “That is what you say, but I know not your skill nor you mine. All that is certain is that we have the honor to aid the helpless. And to your other point, would you rather have a blasphemous victory, seizing upon men concerned with justice? Or would you rather comport yourselves well in the traditions of your fathers and the eyes of the Potentate?”

Crixus was at a loss for words.

I lowered the tip of my sword into the snow. “Prove yourselves honorable men in acting with honor. Or, we may be well assured that your cause is evil.”

The man looked to his compatriots, and I held my breath. I waited to see what they would do next. I found myself surprisingly anxious, not at the prospect of facing six wicked men, but rather two valorous ones. And there is one detail Crixus overlooked in his assessment. No man fights harder than the one who has righteousness on his side.

There was a change in the air. Gereon and I knew what it was instantly, and as Crixus’ men leapt forward, so did we.

Gereon aimed for the leftmost man, the smallest and weakest of the three on his side. The man swung his sword adequately, but the soldier was well prepared. He fluidly ducked underneath the blade and dashed in close. With an upward thrust, the blade slipped through the torso. Gereon kicked off the man’s corpse before quickly retreating as his two attackers regained their footing. Then I lost sight of him with my own troubles.

I attacked the man to my right. As he thrusted his sword at me, I sidestepped. The blade cut along my chest, but did not draw blood. I quickly grabbed hold of his sword arm with my free hand, while my sword swung for his neck. Lopping off his head with ease, I pushed the decapitated corpse into the two men confronting me.

The two remaining men were understandably horrified how quickly I cut down one of their own, but they pressed forward cautiously. Their blades whipped at my defenses as they pushed me back. They would not be surprised like that again.

I knew my only chance was to rush one of them again, but they knew that, too. If I did, it would be all too easy for the other to come behind and stab me in the back. I had no choice but to opt for better ground. I retreated into a nearby building whose roof had caved in. Briefly I tried to hold the doorway, but in my error, I realized the space was too wide to defend. The two men pressed forward, and I was forced back into the building.

The die had been cast. Either I should prove victorious in this enclosed space, or they would slay me here. The ground was uneven and filled with rubble. In the far left corner was a stairwell that led to a second, now absent floor. All other discernible features of the room had either been looted or rotted away.

I continued to fall back, making sure I did not trip over some fallen debris. My main objective was to get to the stairwell where they would be forced to engage me one on one. We slowly crossed the room as they picked themselves through the rubble, and I kept falling back. I could see the rage in their eyes for their fallen companion. I had no doubt I could bait them, but I was concerned, for I saw the quality of the wood of the stairwell.

It was rotten through and through, and should it give out underneath me, I did not doubt the outcome. Still, I had no other choice. I climbed those ancient steps. The wood creaked hideously under me, and my heart pounded with trepidation. One wrong movement would see me dead.

Yet, I was not without some aid. My training taught me the grace of moving lightly, but I also had extra practice. I had spent much of my childhood playing on the ramparts which girded the long skyways of Zodiak. The School’s novitiates played a game where one would leap the twenty-foot gap between the narrow beams of steel. There was little danger. Should you fall off—as we regularly did—you would simply fall like a feather onto the safety nets below. Compared to such acrobatics, this was no different than child’s play.

So it was I danced up the stairs, parrying strikes from my pursuers. As I predicted, they were forced to follow one at a time, gripping loose handholds on the wall for support. Yet, their careful judgement was not enough. The lower man’s foot fell through the rotted wood and he landed forward on the stairwell, dropping his sword.

There! I quickly pressed forward, thrusting my blade to push the first man back until he was only inches away from his fallen friend. I feinted and kicked him back. The man tripped and rolled down the stairs, hitting the floor.

It was an easy matter, then, dispatching his struggling friend, and I raced down to finish this fight. However, this man was not without some skill. He had picked himself up with his sword and had backed up. Despite the loss of his two comrades, the flame had not worn down in him. I had to give some credit. The man was a worthy warrior.

We circled around the rubble, waiting for the other to misplace his footing. Yet neither one of us did, and it became clear that neither of us was going to make a mistake. I decided to press on the attack as I was worried for Gereon and the outcome of his battle.

I took a step forward to close in, and my opponent matched the same. It appeared we were both eager to finish this. He slashed wildly. A lesser eye might’ve perceived it as an opening, but I had seen his previous skill. He was baiting me.

And I accepted.

I lunged forward with my blade. His foot pivoted, and he reversed the feint into a sword thrust. But I was prepared. I threw up my own sword and steel met steel. Drawing close, I punched him in the jaw, staggering him. Now, he flailed for real, trying to back up. His foot caught on a piece of wood and he fell backwards. The fight was over.

I ran my blade through his heart to give the merciful death such a warrior deserved.

Rushing out into the open, I saw the two women were nowhere to be found. Gereon was panting heavily, with minor cuts across his face and arms. Only Crixus remained, but it seemed the man was more than a match for the soldier. He struck with the wild fury of a beast, beating his blade upon Gereon’s as a hammer to an anvil. The soldier’s arm was tired, and with a final triumphant howl, Crixus knocked the sword out of the man’s arm.

I charged in to defend my friend. My blade was aimed at his back, but the tribesman somehow saw me approaching. Just as I came behind him, he quickly turned and swept his blade across my chest. I was forced on the back foot and off balance. He rushed me and pushed me down to the snow. I could do nothing but fall. I raised my sword in defense, but he kicked it away.

Panting, he put his foot on my chest and pressed his blade at my neck. “It seems your Potentate favors me.” He glanced between me and Gereon who dared not move with the weapon at my neck.

“For now,” I said as I tempered my humiliation.

I confess I felt the same terror as I did the wood. The inexperienced often believe one grows accustomed to the thought of one’s demise after so many brushes with the end. However, I have found it to be quite the opposite. Each time is a harrowing confrontation. And each time, one either falls meekly silent or shouts back like a roaring beast.

However, I still had a little reason to put my fear aside. I saw the younger of the two women appear from behind the ruins of a long forgotten house. She brandished the great sword in both hands, despite it being far too large for her.

I had never seen such a weapon before me. The double-edged sword was the dark color of a fire burnt low, with streaks of embers crossing its glossy surface. The fuller of the sword looked as though molten metal had been poured in it, with the sword itself containing its fiery glow.

Clumsily, the woman approached Crixus, waving the sword wildly as she struggled under its weight.

Crixus distractedly looked over at the poor girl and laughed. “You think to best me? You can barely hold that weapon up. Set it down, girl, and spare us your folly.”

I had one chance. I grabbed Crixus’ sword with my hands and held on, the sharp edges cutting through the leather of my gloves. The man looked down at me, surprised, but he had little time to react. The small woman charged with the sword and swung down.

Crixus tried to wrench his sword from my hands, but I held firm even as the blade cut into my palms. He tried to jump away to escape the blow, but I rolled over and tripped his leg. The woman’s great sword met flesh. It sliced down his side, leaving a terrible gash. Crixus stumbled away while I threw myself forward and quickly snatched up my sword. Jumping to my feet, I saw Gereon suddenly at my side, blade in hand.

I gently nudged the trembling girl behind us as we confronted the wounded Crixus. The man sized up the situation. He was bleeding, and it was clear he would not last long in a fight.

“Mercy.” The man threw up his hand. “Mercy, please.” He dropped his weapon.

Seeing as he was wounded and no longer a threat, I had little taste to take another life. I expected my journey to be fraught with danger, but I had not foreseen I would kill so many before I had even stepped forth on the Great Ice Plain. Glancing at Gereon, I saw he had a similar sentiment. It is not always wise to bloody your hands with the defeated.

“Swear upon the Potentate that you will not harm these women nor us again.”

Crixus looked at us, mouth agape. I knew the question in his eyes, even if he feared to speak it.

“I know you are not a man bound to your word, so I instead bind you to the Potentate, and He will revenge himself with far greater fury than I if you break this oath.”

“I swear it. I swear upon your Potentate that I will not harm you.”

“Then go.”

The man picked up his sword and departed, clutching his wound. I watched him until he disappeared from sight, and I hoped it would be the last I saw of him.

Turning to the woman, I saw that she was again hugging the great sword as if it were a treasure. She looked at us with fear in her eyes, as if we meant her harm. No, it was as if she knew harm was coming anyway, despite our efforts.

I did not know what role she had to play then, nor when I departed Terminus some days later. Of the name-lost spirits that guard the souls of men, I owe a great debt. And when I slip from this body and pass through the stars themselves, I shall remember fondly the one who contrived this unlikely meeting.

“What is your name?” I asked, bowing to the girl to set her at ease.

“Berenice.”