Nathan searched for either Kilgarda’s village or his house until the sun set. Yet, he hadn’t spotted anything, but trees thinly veiled in snow. At first, he cried, but when his tears froze, he couldn’t do anything but continue walking.

His fingers had begun to freeze, and without his father he didn’t know what would happen if they turned black. He opened his coat and tried to keep his hands warm under his armpits, it helped, but only marginally.

The night winds began to lift the sandy snow and form grey clouds, blinding him, and preventing him from continuing. He headed to the nearest tree, where he sat against it, balled up. The cold made him sleepy. Is this it? He wondered, falling asleep under a blanket of snow.

#

Nathan woke up. It was cold, incredibly cold, but that was a sign of life. He had been ready to wake up in another world, long gone from this one. To survive a night out in the open was more than anyone could ask for, and he rejoiced in his suffering.

But as he accepted that he had survived, his mind shifted to his hands. He couldn’t imagine the state they were in. He pulled his hands from under his armpits, ready for them to be completely dead, yet they looked fine. Simply a bit red and stiff.

Is this what it feels like being a mage? He wondered. He had a hard time believing his father’s words the other day, but now it at least felt true. He exhaled; his heart slowed. He had had nightmares of waking up purple, completely consumed by ice, but as it hadn’t come to pass, he needed to take some time and accept the change which had occurred to him.

He could see the towers, great and majestic, sprawl before him. He could hear the bustle of the great cities which surrounded it. He could imagine the power, influence, and respect which would come with the title.

He was oh so close. He couldn’t die now; it would all be a waste. But then again, he just wanted to see his mother one last time. To tell her he had done it. She couldn’t have died, she was just a bit sick, it wasn’t anything serious.

An hour later, Nathan found the courage to stand up, but as he began to walk his stomach rumbled. He just needed to find some food before he continued his search. He didn’t have any weapons, but he should be able to do something now that he was a mage. Nathan raised both his hands and aimed it to the sky. Imagining ice spikes, he tried to channel his mana to his hands, however, nothing came of it. I suppose magic isn’t so easy. He told himself.

Nathan looked to the trees. Perhaps if he made a quick run to the village, he could find some food and directions.

#

Following the trees, Nathan looked high in the sky. He’d been following the trail for a few hours now, and his steps had begun to lose strength. Yet he saw no indication that he was getting closer to the village.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING! He couldn’t help but scream internally.

He hadn’t seen a single wolf, a single bunny, or bird. There was nothing, not even the prints of a baby fox, and he began to think that the trees led nowhere. Perhaps he had died the day he left the shed and all that had happened since, was a dream. It wouldn’t be too odd. After all, Ralgdo always said that hell was cold.

Nathan found the nearest tree and inspected it again, confirming the presence of the two strike marks. His stomach rumbled ever louder. Perhaps he was dead, but he couldn’t be certain, and he certainly didn’t want to die twice.

For two more days he walked, only sleeping when either collapsed or when he lost track of the next tree in the night storms.

All his hopes drained from his mind, and he wondered if he shouldn’t just end his journey here. After all, he could join his father, mother, and the others if he just gave up.

The stories of the towers and cities were probably all lies anyway, after all, why would his father decide to spend fourteen years in such a barren wasteland just to raise a useless kid.

Nathan told himself other tales, but he never stopped walking, for the endless journey had left his legs in a trance.

And this refusal to give up, ended up being worth it, as Nathan came to spot a dozen doors alone in the white desert. As he approached, the humps of igloos appeared.

Nathan pressed on, he had a hard time believing it had paid off, but the proof was right before him. He just had to take a few more steps.

“Who goes there!” yelled a man who popped out of one of the doors dotting the landscape.

Seeing someone, Nathan gained hope but lost strength. Drowsy, he fell to his knees, but using his hands, he kept his head above the snow. “Food,” he said, unable to mutter anything else before collapsing on his side.

#

Around a dying flame, three talked and one slept. Round and round mutters spun threads around the dying boy. Their words lined with purple poison seeped into Nathan.

“How can you bring a random boy into our igloo?” a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her face was sunken, and her eyes red.

“He must have lost his family making the trip south,” said an older man, his hair white and grey.

“And what if we starve?” asked the girl.

“If we starve, we starve, but this boy has survived through the blizzard without even getting frostbitten. If he’s such a liability, we can leave him, but for now, he has the right to live.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The youngest sister, thinking the argument was over, let out a sigh. Yet, her older sister continued, “No! We should care for ourselves before a random stranger. We’re in this position because you can’t help but talk to everyone, help everyone, and pry into everyone’s business.” The girl got up, wrapped her arms around the boy’s waist and began to drag him away.

“Stop!” yelled her father, however, the girl continued to drag the boy towards the exit.

Her father got up, ran up to his daughter, and pried her hands off the boy. However, she didn’t stop trying to get a hold of him.

Tired of dealing with her attitude, he hit her across the face. The youngest of the family flinched, but didn’t dare to utter a word. Her sister was now lying against the igloo’s wall.

“If you want to kill someone, do so when I’m not around.”

The eldest trembled in anger. “Fuck you! Fuck you. Fuck you, you piece of shit, I’m leaving. We’re all going to die because of you!” She stormed towards the exit, but her father grabbed her wrist, holding her back. “Let me go! Let me leave!” She yelled.

As her father began to pull her towards the back of the igloo, a shriek resounded in the room. The youngest had enough and began to bawl in the corner of the igloo. “Please stop, please stop—” The screams woke Nathan up. “Please stop… I can’t… I want to die… I don’t want this anymore,” she continued.

The father let go of his eldest and decided to head outside and decompress, but just as he was about to step out, he noticed the boy’s eyes flutter open.

The two sisters, teary-eyed, looked away while their father walked to the boy and wrapped his arms around him and left.

Outside, he ran through the cold wind and entered the igloo opposite their own.

Setting the boy on a dusty rag, he asked, “Can you talk?”

Nathan struggled to open his eyes; they were drained of life.

“Wait here, I’ll be back,” said the man. But just as he was about to head out, he added, “Oh! And my name is Gilja. I also have to say sorry for my family, we’ve had a tough time recently.” The door closed behind him as he left.

Confused, and disoriented, Nathan closed his eyes. His consciousness began to slip once again, but it didn’t feel peaceful like when one was about to fall asleep, and so, he tried to keep them open, but an incredible drowsiness assaulted him a few instants later.

He opened his mouth, trying to comfort himself and stay awake, but his throat was too dry to talk.

Thankfully, Gilja returned not long after, stumbling in, shaking the snow off his boots. “Here.” he handed Nathan a cup of warm water.

Nathan reached up, but he didn’t have the strength to raise his arms.

Seeing this, Gilja raised his head, and pressed the cup on his lips.

Nathan drank with slow gulps. His eyes, only peeled enough to see what he drank.

Finished, Gilja set him back down and let the boy fall into a deep slumber.

#

Nathan awoke half a day later. His eyes were a bit swollen, and burned a bit, but the tiredness which engulfed him earlier had subsided.

“How are you feeling?” asked Gilja, noticing that the boy had awakened.

“Fine,” said Nathan. His words grated at his throat.

“Were you travelling alone?”

Nathan froze up, his hands turned moist, and his eyelids grew heavier. He pointed to his throat. “Wa…wat…,” he struggled to say.

Gilja left and soon returned with a bowl of warm water.

Nathan chugged it down. This time it tasted vaguely fishy. Dropping the bowl, Nathan answered. “I’m still tired but thank you.”

The man let the boy settle under his dusty blanket before continuing. “I’m sorry to inform you that even though you’ve made it this far, there are still no villagers, food, or anything else remaining here. I must also ask for your forgiveness regarding my family’s behaviour. Not only have they forgotten about compassion, but they have also never known Seers. It has been two decades since our village had been without guidance. It even took me, who should be able to recognize one immediately, an hour to piece it together.” The man’s voice said apologetically.

Nathan did his best to keep his eyes open, but did not meet the man’s eyes. He stared up at the ceiling. Seeing that Gilja greatly respected Seers, if anyone could provide him honest information it would be him. “How can someone become a Seer?” Nathan asked, seeking closure. He had all but given up on returning home.

Gilja didn’t answer and the two of them stayed there, in silence, listening to the whistle of wind as it snuck through the holes in between snow bricks.

“How?” repeated Nathan. Although he didn’t want to believe it, he needed to know if it was true that mana hearts could be awakened using that kind of method. It would explain my Quiva or Kilgarda wouldn’t talk about it. And if I knew about this before, I’d never had left the shack that day.

“It’s not good to relieve painful memories,” said Gilja, closing his eyes. “Seer, you are young, but you are still a Seer. Only you may say the phrase that binds us all up north. Is it not better for you to lead us to more bountiful snow?”

Nathan thought back to Kilgarda, to the igloo she never left and the sayings she used. “You do not need to know what you need not know. But it doesn’t matter,” I continued. “My wisdom as a Seer tells me that I need to hear the truth.” I needed to know, for my own sake, and that of my memories.

Gilja exhaled, cursing the task given to him by the young Seer.

“I, too, was shaken when it happened. I don’t remember that day clearly, but I do remember some of it. Back then, I couldn’t have been older than twenty. This was when the Hrenique Eagles still ruled the sky, when the silver wolves roamed the plain, groups of trolls lived atop the Northern mountains, and the south was green. Life was calm back then.

Anyhow, her name was Belfija. She was at least eighty and had lived through quite a lot, I’ve been told. Many skirmishes, famines, and boring eras. But, as the saying goes, even the brightest stars must sometimes sleep. Her time had come, it was as simple as that.

On the brightest day of the year, while the elders played finn near the central pyre and I raced my nephew through the village, the central pyre froze and Belifija exited her igloo for the first time in four decades. She proceeded to climb atop the ice which formed above the pyre, and her grandson came to lie in front of the cube. Then … she spoke…

I don’t quite remember her speech, but it went somewhat like Although I do not wish for you to see this, especially the children, I must for it is integral to the passing of the title. All must see and not hear, for words are deceptive and should be avoided if one can see. She then pulled out a blade which looked like a thick needle but was as long as a spear. It was white, perhaps made of bone. She plunged it in and out of her heart.

Like a gentle stream of flowing water, her blood poured into her grandchild’s mouth, who from that moment on became our Seer.” The man nodded. “That is the whole story. Perhaps it is embellished, for words and memories lie, but that’s what I remember. My children know not what you went through, that is why they act as they do.” Gilja exhaled and got up. “Now I must ask you, Seer, please, through you, may the Spirit of the North bless and guide us through these quiet lands.”

With an incredulous look, Nathan stared at Gilja. He couldn’t believe such a tale. He couldn’t even imagine the scene. It was too … he didn’t know the word. Was he supposed to find closure with such a tale? But if not this, what?

“Let me sleep,” he needed to rest, and so he waved Gilja out.

The man headed for the exit, leaving behind a few words, “Sleep well, we’ll be waiting for you, so don’t worry.” He opened the door with care, but the midnight winds insisted on slamming shut the door, leaving Nathan alone in a quiet buzz.