“If you ever require Calysso’s help, just holler to the seas,” Betty calls from the ship as it departs from the ice floe. Its flag flaps in the wind, and the canvas of the sails are pulled taut. “I’ll be seeing you then!”

“Bye!” Penny waves to the captain, even as Betty returns to her steering duties. The ship begins its voyage back to Calysso, leaving the team of four to contend with the freezing climate of Frosgott.

“Well,” Ren says, “let’s see if we can’t find the nearest colony, or villa—”

He sneezes again as another wave of chill sweeps them, and he clutches the coat tighter to his body, hoping to preserve whatever heat he has left. Frosgott, he learns, is unforgiving on people who loathe the cold. Vane, on the other hand, looks the most miserable, out of all of them.

“Uh, you okay?” Ren asks, hoping that they don’t hear the chatter in his teeth.

Vane purses his lips. “Yes. The cold is rather taxing, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

Penny folds his arms—is that an attempt at keeping warm? “In any case, we need to keep moving, or we’re all going to freeze. I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to stay out here in this… this blizzard.”

“There appears to be a village on the top of that hill,” Gridel says, pointing to a cluster of houses in the distance. The hill in question is quite a trek away, and Ren steels himself for a pretty long walk in the cold.

Penny takes the lead, trudging through the snowy grassland, and the rest of the team follows behind her. What they will find there, Ren does not know, but he’s hoping that heating, warm food, and information are some of them.

*

When they approach the village, it’s obvious that the place has been abandoned for quite some time. It’s a complete ghost town, taken by the snow, and taken by the cold. Fields surrounded by fences are now barren, covered with a thick layer of snow. The windows of houses have frosted over, and the layer of ice is so thick that Ren cannot see through them.

“What… what’s happened here?” Penny wonders, glancing around, her breaths coming out in puffs of mist. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around…”

“Just like the Ashen Plains, then,” Gridel says. “The buildings still stood in the face of the Horseman, but they were no longer inhabited.”

Ren jumps at a sudden series of coughs from behind him. He glances back, if only to find Vane with a hand over his mouth, the other wrapped around his middle. Penny and Gridel turn to face him as well.

“Vane?” Ren asks. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” Vane wipes at his lips. “There’s no need to worry about me.”

“Now, that’s a sus move if I’ve ever seen one,” Penny mumbles. She takes one step towards the man, who, in turn, takes one step back. “You’re really hiding something, huh?”

Vane’s expression hardens. “I’m not hiding anything.”

Penny sighs. “Wow, could you be a worse liar?” If Vane is offended, he doesn’t say anything. “Well, if you’re sure you’re fine, I guess we’ll just… continue. Or we could make one of the houses in this village our base or something, and then we’ll try to find the Horseman’s palace.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ren says. “I mean, we won’t be imposing on anyone, and I really don’t want to be walking for hours in the snow looking for somewhere else.”

“I agree with Master Ren,” Gridel says. “This is as good a place as any, although heating and food won’t come by as easily.”

“It’ll just be temporary,” Penny says. “We can seek out other colonies when we’ve got the whole place set up.”

Sounds like a plan. Ren walks over to one of the houses and tries its door. Unfortunately, it remains shut tight. Oh well, perhaps he should try another one. Just as he is about to head to the next house, he hears a scream. Ren jumps out of his skin, spinning on his heels to see Penny stumbling back, tripping over a pile of snow and landing on the ground.

“Lady Penny!” Vane dashes over, spraying snow up with each step. He helps Penny up, and it is only then that Ren notices it: the body lying on the ground inside the house. What… why’s there a body there?

“Is he dead?” Ren can’t seem to tear his gaze from the man face-down on the ground, arms and legs spread out. The skin of his hands appears to have greyed and stretched over bone. The rest of his body is decked out in winter clothing—a coat brimming with brown fur and a navy hat woven from wool.

Gridel gingerly steps over and turns the man such that he’s lying on his back, and Ren sees a dark stain where his mouth was. The man’s face is ashen, his lips parted, bloodied and with a bluish tint, cheeks stained with trails of blood stemming from his eyes. Ren cups his mouth, in an effort to stop himself from throwing up.

“No obvious injuries,” Gridel says. “I doubt a monster got to him.”

“Then what did?” Penny asks over Vane’s violent coughing. Ren can’t help but worry—the man’s always been a little sensitive to the cold, but Ren didn’t think it was this bad.

“I’m not sure.” Gridel shakes her head. “I… He’s bleeding from the eyes, and the mouth. If anything, I would say that the damage is internal. Although, it would take a monster, or someone, well-versed in the psychic arts to—”

Vane coughs again, and falls to a knee, with one hand over his mouth. Alarm bells ring in Ren’s head and he rushes over to his friend, grabbing his shoulder. “Vane? Hey, are you all right?”

When Vane’s hand comes away, Ren sees red. Literally. Droplets of crimson drip from between his fingers and hit the ground, sizzling in the cold of the snow. It could be that Ren is only paying attention now, but Vane looks deathly pale, even paler than he usually is. And he’s shivering, arms shaky as he tries to prop himself up.

It’s not a monster, nor anyone with psychic powers or whatever. No, it’s something scarier than that, especially in a world such as this, without the advances in medicine that Ren and Penny are familiar with.

It’s none other than an illness. Pestilence.

“Hurry, we have to get him warmed up,” Penny says, taking Vane’s other arm. The prince tries to shove them away, insisting in the weakest voice Ren’s ever heard that he’s fine, but Penny ignores his protests completely. “Gridel, do you know what kind of illness this is?”

“I…” Gridel furrows her brows. “I don’t know. Given only one symptom, I am unable to diagnose it accurately, but I will try.”

Gridel’s the one with the herbs, the one with all the medical knowledge of this world that eludes both Ren and Penny. If she can’t figure it out, then no one can. Both Penny and Ren help bring Vane into the house, stepping over the man’s frozen corpse.

The bed is, as it appears, also occupied by another frozen body. Ren purses his lips, trying not to meet the eyes of the woman who apparently died in pain. She looks almost skeletal, like the man, and her complexion is blacker than his; it’s almost like she was a victim of gangrene. Her eyes are wide and her sclera red, her mouth open wide, skin pulled tight over sallow cheeks.

Gridel hauls the woman from the bed, lugging her body to the wall such that she’s leaning against it. Guilt tugs at Ren’s heart—they really shouldn’t desecrate corpses, but, well, desperate times calls for desperate measures. They should give the duo a proper burial later, but for now, they need to tend to their friend.

Ren helps to strip Vane of his armour—no one would get a good night’s sleep with so much steel on him—and Penny moves to cover him with the blanket. Hopefully, the fact that a dead woman was sleeping in this bed just seconds prior doesn’t bother Vane as much as it should. And if the man was bothered, he didn’t say anything.

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Gridel touches his sweaty forehead, withdrawing her hand immediately. “It’s bad. He’s got a terrible fever. I have some leaves that may help with the symptom, but coughing up blood tells me that his internal organs have sustained some sort of damage, so… it’s not as simple as just administering a topical formulation.”

“But he can be cured, right? We just need the right medicines?” Penny asks.

“I…” Gridel bites her lip. “The issue is that I don’t know what ailment he’s been afflicted with, so I cannot prescribe a particularly efficacious concoction that would promise results.”

Ren bites his lip. The fact that these two people died in their home, and presumably the rest of the village… they don’t inspire much confidence in Ren.

“I can still try,” Gridel says. She grabs one of the sachets from her belt and hands it to Penny. “Feed him these dry. Five leaves first, and wait for five minutes. If the fever persists, then feed another five leaves.” Turning to Ren, she orders, “Come with me.”

Ren wastes no time in joining Gridel at the table. She retrieves a mortar and pestle from her satchel, and she lays it on the table. She thumbs through the other sachets on her belt, before unclasping one and emptying its contents into the bowl. Leaves mix with powder, and the blend turns into a greenish paste.

“Water,” Gridel says, holding out a hand, and Ren gives his to her. She pours the water into the mortar, then places the canteen at the side, and she continues to stir. The paste is diluted, the solution now a murky swirl. “If there’s internal bleeding involved, this should help with the pain. The fever would go up for a bit, but it’ll come down eventually.”

Vane coughs again, and Ren glances over. There’s still blood mixed in his spittle, sending a spike of fear rushing through Ren. Gridel drops the pestle to the table once she’s done and rushes over to Vane’s bedside, almost knocking Penny aside.

“Here,” Gridel says. “Drink this. It should help for the time being.”

Penny helps him sit up, and Gridel holds the bowl to his lips. Vane sips from it, face scrunching up at the taste, but keeps going, glugging it all down. When the mixture has disappeared completely, Vane leans back against the headboard of the bed, the sharp intakes of his breath the only thing that Ren can hear as the room goes quiet. No one dares to speak nor move, gazes on Vane as they wait.

The coughs have ceased, and it doesn’t seem as though Vane is going to die… Not yet, at least.

“His condition should probably stabilise for a while,” Gridel says. “However, it’s not a permanent solution.”

“Do you think that there could be anything in this village that could help us figure out what it is?” Penny asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Ren frowns. “If they did, wouldn’t they have, you know, not died?”

Gridel shakes her head. “I agree with Penny here. There might be some information lying around as to what could have happened, and the possibility of a cure. Even a fabled one would do.”

“A fabled one? But doesn’t that mean that it doesn’t exist?” Penny asks.

“All rumours have a hint of truth to them,” Gridel says adamantly. “And besides, it’s probably the best shot we have at coming up with a suitable treatment.”

Desperate times calls for desperate measures. While the medicine is still taking effect, they have to search the vicinity for clues, perhaps, and hopefully, they’ll chance upon something.

“I’ll stay behind to look after him, and to search this house,” Penny says. “You guys should go.”

Ren nods. “All right, then. We’ll be back soon.”

Gridel is already halfway out the door, and Ren quickly follows her. She heads immediately to the first house, and Ren, to the next. He tries the knob, grunting when it won’t open, before moving on to the next nearest house. When he finally finds one with an unlocked door, he shoves it open. If only to find someone collapsed over a wooden table in the middle of the hut, dressed in the same kind of clothes as the duo from the other house.

Ren steps into the house, glancing around for any books, or anything that could provide them a hint at all. He digs through the drawers and even the closet, but he finds nothing. Just clothes disintegrating from age and piles of dust. Just as he is about to rush out of the room, he hears it.

A scream. From a voice that sounds very much like Penny’s.

“Penny!” Ren darts out of the house, eyes widening at the sight. There, surrounding the house that Penny and Vane are in, looks to be a group of children. They wear what looks to be Tiki masks, clad in thick layers of beast hides and wielding spears.

“W-What are you doing!” Penny yells, as she is manhandled by three children out of the house. “Let me go!”

Behind her, Vane is struggling as well, but not with as much gusto as he would usually display. He coughs again, blood dripping from his lips as his body convulses, and the children holding their spears visibly back away from the splatter of red upon the white of the snow.

Gridel pulls her crossbow back and nocks a bolt. “Let them go!”

“Wait, Gridel!” Penny shouts, but Gridel has already let the bolt fly. The arrow soars through the air, plunging straight into the back of one of the children. The child falls forth, crying out as he hits the ground, a dark stain blossoming on his clothes. With a cacophony of screeches and screams, the children retreat, dragging Penny and Vane with them.

“Stop!” Ren rushes forth, Ifrit held out. He doesn’t want to do this to children, of all people, but—

The child that lay on the floor has grabbed his ankle, and it all happened so suddenly that Ren falls face-first into the snow. He lifts his head, wincing at the pain and the cold as he spits out a mouthful of the stuff.

“L-Let go!” Ren cries, trying to kick at the child, but the boy’s grip is firm. Ren can almost see the determination behind that Tiki mask, as he clings onto Ren with all his might. Gridel curls her fingers around the shaft of the arrow in the boy’s back and pulls it out in one swift move.

The boy lets out an ear-piercing shriek, as blood begins to ooze more freely from the injury. Gridel stuffs her bolt back into the quiver on her back, before dropping to a squat. Ren wrenches his ankle from the boy’s clutches, and he scrambles away from him. The boy lies motionless on the ground, his breaths ragged and shallow.

“Quick. We need to get him in,” Gridel says, hoisting the boy up onto her back. The boy whimpers and writhes, but Gridel is having none of them. “Grab his spear, would you?”

Ren picks the weapon up from the ground and he follows Gridel into the house. Why are they tending to him? Shouldn’t they go after the children? They took Penny and Vane, and Vane’s probably on the verge of death as they speak.

They enter the house of the dead man and woman, and Gridel lays the boy flat on his stomach where Vane just was. Gridel peels his coat off, and the boy shivers as they expose his bare skin to the cold. He squirms, kicking and punching, but Gridel deftly dodges each and every one of his blows. Ren can’t say the same, though, wincing at the ache in his shin.

“Hold him down,” Gridel says, reaching for a sachet from her belt. Ren does as he is told, leaning Ifrit against the wall and grabbing the boy’s arms and ankles.

“Let go of me!” the boy screams. “Let go!”

Gridel hisses. “You’re going to lose all your blood and die if you don’t stop moving. Then you can’t go back and see your friends.”

“I don’t care! I’d rather die than go back!”

Those aren’t words a child should be saying. Ren tightens his grip on the boy’s arms, knees pinning down his legs, having almost crawled all over the boy to stop his vigorous rampage. Good Lord, even when he’s losing so much blood, he’s actually pretty strong.

Gridel dumps her sachet of leaves and petals on the exposed wound—which looks rather ugly and painful, if Ren is being entirely honest. The boy cries out, fingers curled so strongly into the fabric of the sheets that his knuckles are turning white. Gridel spreads the leaves out evenly, before shoving her hand into her pouch and fishing out a roll of bandages. Since when did she have those on her person?

The bandage is soon wrapped around the boy’s torso, and the boy’s fighting spirit has been completely drained. He remains limp on the bed, and he doesn’t move even when Ren lets go.

“There,” Gridel says. “That should do it.”

“I didn’t need your help,” the boy grumbles, words muffled against the pillow.

“You would have bled to death if we left you.”

“Then you should have let me die.”

“What’s this about dying?” Ren asks. “Don’t you have friends or family to return to? Weren’t those kids your friends?”

The boy harrumphs. “No. They hate me. They’ll never come back for me. Ever.”

The room falls silent, and after a few seconds, Gridel is the one to break it. “Who are you? From where do you hail?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because then… if I bring you to them, and they catch me, they’ll sacrifice me to the Horseman.”

Ren raises a brow. The Horseman! That means that if they follow the children back to their abode, they’d be able to find the Horseman’s palace, would they? That aside, there’s something else in that statement that sets off alarms in Ren’s head.

“They’ll… sacrifice you?” Ren asks, whipping his head around to face Gridel. “Does that mean that Penny and Vane are—”

“The guy’s already infected, so he’s a prime candidate for sacrifice,” the boy drawls. “And the girl’s fresh blood, so they’ll get bonus points for that.”

Gridel stands. “Then we’ve got to hurry. Vane’s in no condition to fight, and Penny can’t take them all on at once.”

Ren turns to the boy. “Tell us where your base is.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m not telling!”

“But—”

“Let us strike a deal, then,” Gridel says. “You lead us to where your people are headed, and we’ll keep you from being sacrificed. How does that sound?”

The boy seems to consider it, wrinkling his nose, before sighing. “Okay. You promised.”

Well, that was simple enough. The boy scrambles off the bed and snatches his spear from the floor. He shrugs his coat back on and strides over to the door, with Gridel and Ren in tow. “The name’s Tiv. Don’t you go forgetting it.”

“Okay, Tiv,” Ren says. “Lead the way.”

Tiv heads out of the hut, dashing through the snow as swiftly as an arctic fox. Ren and Gridel stumble along, sloshing through the heaps of white and leaping over the frozen roots of trees. The tundra ahead lacks any sort of features, and the children have long since disappeared to who knows where.

As much as Ren hates entrusting their friend’s lives to a potential enemy, but they have no choice in the matter. All they can do for now is to hope that Tiv is leading them the right way.

And that they’re not running headlong into a trap.