The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter

came the storm.

And we weren’t ready.

Our stronghold was more of a prison, with a wide open door to welcome the storm in. We had to get it fixed. But it had been two days since a few of the men left for supplies.

I climbed up the tower, if you could call it that, my bow and arrows resting on my back. Shivering, I peaked out to see the sun so far away. Part of me wanted to take off and chase it down. Foolish, yes, since we only have three horses left that were supposed to be back by now.

How did we end up like this? Some legends we would become.

To be fair, not many have ever survived a winter. That was why they volunteered to face it head on. They assured us that we would be ok.

I’m sure they mean well, but I’ve seen the stories.

Thousands have been poisoned by winter’s bite. Their remaining forms were a constant reminder of the absence of mercy.

My ears picked up a soft gallop, but my heart could not bear another-


Each hoof’s step was heavy, and the snow was so deep.


In a blink, winter came.

In a moment, the storm attacked.

All I could do was watch as my body contorted and broke into such a position. I could still hear the screams of everyone I swore to protect.

Then I opened my eyes, and melted away.

I could not afford to give up now…

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