As Nathan opened his eyes sunlight assaulted him through his two windows; the only ones in the house. This was done to keep his room cold and his mind in tune with the beasts outdoors. When his eyes got used to the blinding white light, he jumped out of bed and searched through his closet for his fox pelt, leather pants, and other insulators. These wouldn’t keep him warm, but alive, for wounds made a man tough, and a mage is a man tough in heart and mind.

Before heading outside, he first wanted to go see his mother. But as he entered the hallway, he spotted his father standing in front his mother’s door blocking his path.

A mage is one who wouldn’t be scared by the ugliest of wounds or the greatest of losses.

“Don’t you think you’ve slept too long?”

“I’m sorry,” said Nathan, his lungs still cold. He tried to walk around his father, but Herbert extended his hand and blocked Nathan’s escape. “Time is of the essence. We’re going back to hunt for blood.”

Nathan knew this grueling routing would make him a man, but sometimes he wondered why being a kid was bad.

#

Herbert led the way out of the house.

After two steps in the snowstorm, he was already out of Nathan’s sight. The wind slammed the door against the inside wall, threatening to rip it out of its hinges. Sometimes he wondered how the house and the shack were still in place, not flung away and ripped to shreds by nature.

Wind continued to blow; the door continued to slam the wall. The dining table screeched across the dining room, and the fire raged, melting the snow which got too close to it, soaking the floorboards wet.

Nathan took a step on the frozen snow, the nails under his soles barely able to get a grip. With his second step, he closed the door behind him and watched a sheet of snow cover the door.

Nathan felt his father’s gaze and anger at his hesitation. He couldn’t see him, but his presence was ever-present. Like mana, like life and death, like cold and heat; his father was omnipresent. Hidden in the fabric of everything. Influencing the strength of the snowstorm as if it’s master.

Nathan took his third step. Then his fourth and fifth. Thus, with slow and grueling strides, he began his second attempt at ascending to magehood.

Stolen story; please report.

#

Mixed in with snow, hail tore at Nathan’s skin. First, his face went numb, then his fingers and toes. He couldn’t think of it, of the pain. He would deal with that later when he returned home and entered the safety of his mother’s embrace. But for now, he had to embrace the cold and let the sea of white take him away.

…..

…

.

“What are you doing?”

Nathan turned towards the voice. The ground and sky were a consistent tone of white. The snow itself seemed to talk. It hypnotized him and he wasn’t sure whether to search with his ears or eyes. But then, a large grey blob appeared overhead. It grew each passing second. Nathan reached for his crossbow, quickly loaded a bolt, and aimed at the shadow. Once it covered a quarter of his sight, the outlines of wings became visible, and titanium white feathers appeared.

Even though he couldn’t feel his fingers, he pressed down on the trigger and a bolt ripped through the air. The Hrenique eagle, in all its glory crashed down in front of Nathan.

Blood pooled around its body. The bolt had pierced clean through the bird’s neck. Nathan stared at the corpse. He could have died were it not for the warning. He could have died in these snowy fields without ever having seen the greater world.

“Nathan!”

He jerked back to see his father loom above him, fury in his eyes. It had been many years since he’d seen this expression on his father’s face.

“I hope that this newfound … attitude, if that is what one may call it is a result of a connection to this land and not abandonment.” The wind flapped through Herbert’s cape and robes, which sent thunderous thuds through the air. “Take off your shirt. You will not freeze to death if you merge with the beast.”

Nathan reached above his head to pull off the fur that covered his body, however, he couldn’t feel nor know if he grasped at air or fur as his fingers had long since frozen. For a full minute he tried without success.

A hand grabbed his coat’s collar and ripped it off, letting it fly into the wind. Nathan wanted to reach out and grab it, but he didn’t have the strength to move his limbs.

Herbert stepped in front of Nathan and dipped two fingers in the pool of the eagle’s blood. He proceeded to draw glyphs on Nathan’s back. “Your heart is currently merged with that of a wolf, but we’re going to inject the blood of an eagle in your body as such—” The wind had stripped Nathan’s back of heat. He couldn’t feel his father’s fingers stroke his back. “We’re going to substitute the wolf’s heart without perturbing your mana heart’s seed.” Herbert exhaled and heat travelled through Nathan’s back as it snaked up and into his heart before being released out of his body.

Nathan’s stomach boiled and a liquid snaked up his throat. He vomited reddish-black blood and pieces of the wolf’s heart.

Herbert pressed the heart of the eagle into Nathan’s chest, who continued to puke until the wolf’s heart had been fully replaced with the eagle’s.

Nathan had no more strength to sit upright; hopefully, all had gone well. He collapsed and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to fall into a deeper darkness, a warm glass vial was pressed on his lips, and he swallowed the sour and bitter liquid.

This bitter taste brought him back to the previous failure, and he saw green below his knees. Not even this sleep would be a quiet one.