A white-furred troll ran through thick snow, its fur was bloodied and its eyes red.

Henrick jumped back, the top layer of snow on which he landed turned into ice and reflected the golden lure of the sun embroidered on his thick, double layered blue robes. He raised his hand, palms facing the troll, in front of which water condensed, then hardened into ice pellets, and expanded into ice javelins.

The troll’s eyes widened, and it rushed the mage on all fours. Its hands, covered in black leather broke through Henrick’s layer of ice, however, it slowed the beast enough for the mage to release his ice javelins. They tore through the air and pierced the troll’s thick hide. Stunned, the troll staggered.

Yet, even with ice spears lodged in its hide, the beast had the strength to resume its charge, but now with shallow breaths, and reduced speeds.

Henrick crouched down and pressed his hands onto the ice beneath his feet. Ice spikes emerged from the ground and formed a deadly wall.

The troll’s eyes, blinded by blood, were unable to see the new barrier, and it ran chest first into the spikes, skewering itself. The beast let out a feeble roar and closed its eyes.

“You can come out,” called out Henrick. He closed his robe’s bronze buttons, and the wall of spikes broke down, leaving the troll to fall limp into a pool of its own blood.

Nathan, Herbert’s son, struggled through the knee-high snow which snuck into his untreated leather pants and fur boots, freezing his toes. He didn’t try to sweep away this snow or tighten his boots, but kept his eyes locked on Henrick through the thick wall of falling snow. He saw his father’s lips move: Faster. Snow dampened sound.

With his small pale hands, Nathan waded through the snow and made his way onto the ice sheet. He slid to the troll on his knees. His long silver hair swimming in the troll’s blood.

“What’s it called?” asked Henrick.

“A snow troll,” answered Nathan.

“What’s its most valuable part?”

Nathan reached into the bag slung across his shoulder and pulled out a long, thin, dagger with an elongated triangular blade. He plunged it into the troll’s gut. “Its liver,” muttered the boy, his lips too cold to open.

Nathan’s hands trembled, but with a firm tug he pulled the dagger out of the troll’s hide and fat, flinging the dagger flew out of his hands. Another expense. Nathan took out a crescent shaped blade from his bag, slid it in the puncture, and tugged open the troll’s stomach. Its guts fell out, letting him dig around the stomach and find its liver. He cut it free and presented it to his father.

Herbert looked it over. “Acceptable, worse comes to pass you’ll manage as a lab assistant.” He froze the liver in a block of ice and stashed it in his bag. “And the common man, what do they dig out of these remains?”

“Ev… Everything,” stuttered Nathan. It was especially cold today. It was always the coldest days when he went out with his father.

The mage turned around and left, leaving nothing but the ice on which he walked to guide Nathan home through the grey blizzard.

Snow fell in heaps. One couldn’t see further than a few metres.

Nathan checked the spikes under his soles. He hammered one back into place and fetched the rope in his bag. He laced it around the troll’s armpit and began his journey back home.

It was all worth it. He thought as he stared into the distance, trying not to let the falling snow hypnotize him. He’d once fallen asleep while tugging a silver wolf home. His father had to turn around and bring him back, for that Nathan paid dearly.

And so, with great determination and blinded by snow, Nathan pressed on until he spotted a small shed standing crooked next to their house. Nathan hauled the beast inside, lit a small fire, and began preparations for the market. He skinned the troll, scraped away its fat, emptied its intestines, and hung the meat in the smoker; his stomach rumbled.

This monthly tradition ate away at his nails now rotted black, at his muscles, at his skin, and mind.

#

Finished with the troll’s preparations, Nathan dragged himself into his abode.

Heat and the smell of hot stew wafted about the room. And there, still in his mage’s attire, Herbert ate his stew in his rocking chair made of pine wood.

“I’ve placed the potion in your room, remember, you have to wait an hour before you can eat.” He didn’t spare a glance for Nathan. There are mages, mage assistants, and the rest. That was his saying and Nathan didn’t dispute it for it was fact… An undeniable one.

In his room, Nathan found his mother, lying in bed. Her silver hair sprawling atop her furs. “You’re back,” she whispered in Daqua, she was never able to learn the Marian language.

“I am,” answered Nathan, but because of that he had also learned the language of the land.

Quiva opened her arms wide, and Nathan hobbled over and fell into her embrace. She was as warm as a kiln which defrosted his skin, spreading a terrible heat and buzz throughout his body.

He ground his teeth and remained in her embrace. She had no doubt spent all day nuzzled to the fire, accumulating heat. Nathan warmed his hands on her stomach. In this world, she was the only comfort, nothing else was soft in this world, not even the snow. Pulling out of her embrace, his mother took his hands in hers, his fingertips were black, dead. She uncorked the vial filled with troll liver and red squid blood. “Drink.” She tilted up Nathan’s chin and poured the potion.

Nathan gulped it down, not letting a single drop go to waste. It’s thick and irony taste didn’t bother him anymore. He had been going out with his father for six years now, ever since his eight birthdays.

As the potion took effect, his skin regained some colour, but it still erred towards snow rather than flesh.

“I did my best,” muttered Nathan, falling into his mother’s embrace once again. His stomach growled, embarrassed he shoved his face further into her chest. His body was thinking of food instead of his mother.

“Sleep for now, I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat.”

“Tomorrow… I’ll go to Grandma’s. I’ve prepared the troll really well so I should be able to get you pearls.”

She patted Nathan’s head. “You don’t need to work every day. Take a break, it won’t hurt … you don’t need to visit your grandma either. It’s far.”

Nathan shook his head. “I have… I have to … push myself forever forwards … that’s how one becomes a mage… I’ll become one greater than all others. That way I’ll buy you all the prettiest pearls and restore our family’s honour.”

Quiva’s eyes turned red, she did her best not to cry, but she couldn’t help but let go of a few tears. Regardless, she continued to pat her son’s hair until he fell asleep.

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#

Nathan strapped two L-shaped supports together on which the troll’s flesh, fur, and organs were loaded. Unfortunately, to make space for his own supplies, he couldn’t bring the troll’s blood.

Outside the hut, a few specs of white drifted through the azure sky. Nathan slipped into his snowshoes and made his way through the sparsely forested snow fields. Making sure to keep near the trees marked with tree dagger strikes.

When the sun began to set, he took his snow saw and cut white bricks out of the ground and with a shovel, he dug out the interior of the igloo. By the time the sun set he lay under a dome of blue flakes.

The next day, he continued his journey, nibbling on last month’s troll jerky.

The endless expanse of white and blue was only ever broken up by damp black bark and the dark blue shadows of fir hidden below snow. Other than the latter, a few birds crossed him, and he spotted a couple of bunnies.

After four sunrises and three sunsets, he finally spotted smoke. He had arrived at Kilgarda’s village.

#

“If it isn’t our lil Nathan, how are you?” Ralgdo, Nathan’s uncle, tapped Nathan’s shoulder with his thick leather gloves.

“I’ve brought this month’s troll.”

Ralgdo smiled. “OK, take your time, Mother Kilgarda’s been waiting for you.”

Nathan nodded, a small smile on his face. His uncle had been the only one he’d ever seen as a friend. But afraid that he may ruin this small friendship he tried his best to avoid staying with him for too long.

Nathan slipped out of his snow boots and entered the village. Inside, there were a couple dozen igloos arranged around a central pyre. Ash still smouldered from the morning gathering.

Children younger than Nathan ran around, fighting with small wooden sticks. Seeing him, some looked away, others ran back to their huts, but none insulted or openly scorned him.

“I’m here,” Nathan called out once he reached the largest igloo.

“Oh, if it isn’t my lil boy, come in.” Nathan opened the wooden door and spread apart the furs which acted as an insulator. Inside, Kilgarda sat on a gold and grey-silver wolf’s fur. “Come sit,” she invited him.

Nathan dropped his bag at the entrance and went over to his grandmother. “How has your month been? I’ve missed you.”

Nathan hugged her. “It’s been good, I was able to bring everything except the blood this time.”

“Your lips are blue. Did you drink enough water?” She poured him pine tea. “Here,” she pressed it on his lips, and he downed the drink.

“Thank you.” He wiped clean his lips. “So how much can I get for it this time?”

Kilgarda got up and looked through his goods. “Hmmm … not bad, I can get you two silver tooth hearts … maybe two, no three litres of red squid blood, and five…” She searched through his goods. “...Large bronze salmons.”

Nathan grinned in excitement, “And how many pearls for Mother?”

Kilgarda turned round and went to fetch some smoked fish. “I’m sorry, the merchants didn’t bring pearls this time round either.” They hadn’t done so in a few years.

Nathan’s eyes dulled. “Why? They had so many six years ago when I could barely haul an eagle, why now?”

Kilgarda smiled the best she could, “Things have happened along the coast. The fishermen can’t harvest as many clams anymore.”

“What’s happening?” roared Nathan. “No one ever tells me anything. I’m fourteen, I’m old enough to know.” Although he thought that his grandma cared for him, she always held back so much. He never knew what she thought or why she did what she did. Although his father was rough and made him go through a lot, he always explained everything. He explained to Nathan why he had to endure such grueling training, he explained from where he came, where Nathan had to go, and what he had to do … everything he had the time and knowledge to explain. “I have the right to know!”

The tone with which Nathan talked took Kilgarda aback, but she shook her head and answered, “You’ll know when the world tells you, I nor no one you know can be the one to do so.”

“That’s not fair. Aren’t I your grandson? And aren’t you a seer—”

“No!” Kilgarda coughed and lowered her voice. “Yes, I am a Seer, but there are things which must be seen instead of heard.” Kilgarda coughed. “Tell me,” she whispered. “Would a seal understand a human’s words? Would the kids who play hunter understand the danger of a troll?”

Nathan shook his head. Excited that for once she would talk.

“Then how would you understand this situation? Those who can understand what they have never seen are Se… Seers … seers,” she muttered, getting lost in Nathan’s eyes. Brown eyes, like those of his father. Not the grey of their people or the blue of those living further to the east. But seeing his silver hair she continued to speak. “Seers dedicate their lives to it. To the past, to the future, to the present. They are sworn to protect all of it,” her words softened at the end. “When Herbert came here… Ignorance is often better than false knowledge. Promise me that as long as you’re on this island you’ll only trust what you have experienced. And when you leave for the greater world, promise me to always take what you overhear with a grain of salt, and what you are told with a heap of it.”

“I promise.” Nathan placed his hand on his mouth, and Kilgarda did the same.

“Good, now wait here, I’ll get your things and you can be off.”

#

Nathan headed for home, but he was stopped at the gate by Ralgdo.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” He asked.

Nathan turned around, “I have to get back home to study. I should be able to unlock my mana heart soon enough so I should try my best to learn as much as I can before I must leave.”

Ralgdo smiled a sad smile. He knew of the hardships faced by the child and the false ideas fed to him by his father. But instead of trying to convince the boy of that, Ralgdo asked him a question. “I’ve always wanted to know how mages get their power. After all, to become a Seer it must be passed down by one’s parents or grandparents. But I hear that there are as many mages as there are beasts…” and that mages are beasts themselves… Is what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t.

“There are many mages…” said Nathan, but he couldn’t be certain. He had never seen any and the training he’d undergone had been more than grueling. The thought that so many had undergone the same experience and succeeded boggled his mind.

And thinking of this made him want to leave and head back to his studies, however, he craved casual conversation, especially centred around magic as he knew nothing else.

His mother would always avoid anything on the subject and Kilgarda said that she had nothing to do with it. She didn’t even want him to think of such things in her village. But now he was outside its wall, in the empty snowfields of the North with Ralgdo. An Uncle. A friend. He couldn’t hold back.

“Mages use the life force of animals to spark the formation of mana hearts. So, it isn’t guaranteed that one gets it, but one’s chance is much greater if done with an animal which reflects one’s spirit. That is why I must spend as much time as possible outside, killing beasts.” (The ones I can) “And gut them myself. To become closer to the region’s beasts. To understand their suffering, strength, and pride.”

Nathan and Ralgdo stared on into the empty fields of snow and Nathan repeated his father’s words,

“Back in the homeland, regular people sometimes buy hamsters, small birds, and cats to raise alongside their children. When they are of age to become mages, they attempt the ascension with these beasts. A lot succeed, but with such weak hearts, and spirits they amount to nothing. They are only half-baked mages that the Towers would lose their time and resources raising. That’s why I’m here. To hone my body, my mind, and my heart. To bring strength to the tower and prestige to my name.” A feverish delight spread in Nathan’s eyes. He could see the tall towers of the north which towered above castles and fields. Above those who hadn’t suffered a day in their lives, who hadn’t put in the work to become greater.

Ralgdo’s smile disappeared. He couldn’t imagine twisted ideas fed to the boy by that mage nor the twisted world which led to such ideas. Worried, he tapped Nathan’s shoulder. “Here, take it.” It was a spear. “Stand guard with me.” Perhaps, by admiring what was beautiful in this world, the boy may find a new path in life. Perhaps he would grow attached to this land and not a distant dream.

Nathan set his bag on the side and took the spear and stood guard.

…..

…

.

“I wonder how tall the Towers are?” Nathan couldn’t help but say. Talking with Ralgdo was fun.

“How tall do you think they are?”

“I don’t know, Herbert made ice models to show me things like the towers, the magical instruments, and everyday goods found over there. But I can’t imagine it well. I can’t imagine sleeping in anything but thick clothes. I can’t imagine the taste of apples, oranges, or mushrooms.

I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know if it’s right to be so excited for something I might never have. I trust my father’s teaching, but still … it’s not everyone who can become a mage.”

“Well, I can’t imagine the taste of such things either. But I know that there are things equally as good here, so don’t worry too much. Just look in front of you, at the snow fields, and know that we are here together, facing the bitter cold of the north. Only worry about the present. That’s all.”

Together. Nathan smiled and nodded.

Why was Ralgdo the only one to tell him such things? Nathan couldn’t help but think. But thinking it over, it wouldn’t bring him anything. And so, he spent the day talking to Ralgdo and ended up sleeping over that day.

#

The journey home was much the same. Blue skies, white earth, blue snow covering green fir leaves.

#

Nathan reached the house with heavy steps. Out the chimney white smoke streamed out. It was quiet, the snow dampened the sound of his father’s rocking chair and the crackle of fire. He looked up; he had made good time; the sun was still at its zenith. He decided to spend the time he had left in the shed, but when his hand reached for the door, a wave of tiredness consumed him. So crushing it was, that he saw grand walls of black ice emerge from the ground and consume him whole.