The smoke from the last fire drifted thin across the gray sky.
The storm had passed, but the frost stayed.
Dead men don't feel cold.
They lined up at first light a ragged mix of mercenaries, conscripts, and the few Raventhorn knights still breathing.
Faces gaunt. Hands blistered. Blood caked into their armor like old rust.
The Knight-Commander rode down the line, voice cracked from days without sleep.
"Payment for services rendered. If you're done bleeding for the North, take your coin and go. If you've still got strength in your bones... stay. Rebuild. House Raventhorn will double your pay."
Most took the coin and left.
But some stayed.
---
By morning, Elias was already working.
Far at the edge of camp, where the wall had crumbled and no one else wanted to be.
He hauled shattered timber and frozen stones without a word.
Broad-shouldered. Cloaked in a torn coat, stained with darkened blood and older things.
Swordless. Barehanded.
When others paused to breathe, he didn't.
A soldier watched from the scaffolding above, chewing frost off his glove.
"Working alone again, huh?" he muttered, nudging the man beside him. "Mean face. Quiet hands. But... he's got heart."
The other gave a cautious glance toward Elias.
"Wonder what's his story."
"Don't know," the first shrugged. "But he's a good fella. That's enough for me."
---
Kaelen Raventhorn the youngest son of House Raventhorn had come here to sharpen his mind. To learn war.
To prove he was more than just frostless blood and a fancy name.
So far, all he'd earned was dirt on his hands and questions in his head.
Still, he worked. Trained. Watched.
And when the heroes moved on, it was Kaelen who was left to walk the broken lines.
Counting the dead. Hauling wood. Giving orders.
Cleaning up what the legends left behind.
---
One night, with no monsters on the wind and no duties on his shoulders, Kaelen wandered past the barricades.
The forest dead quiet now was peaceful in a way that unsettled him.
He let himself drift between frostbitten trees, just breathing.
Then he saw it.
A flicker of light, low between the trunks. A swaying orange glow.
A lantern, maybe. Or someone out relieving themselves where they shouldn't.
He followed it. And found something else.
---
It was a hollow clearing behind the ruined wall.
Snow drifted soft and slow. Black earth peeked through trampled frost.
Broken spears jutted from the ground like grave markers.
An old watchpost leaned crooked nearby, a rusted oil-lamp hanging low.
Kaelen stepped over a fallen branch
and froze.
A man knelt over a corpse.
But not a man.
An ogre. Half-frozen. Chest split open. Ribs spread like broken doors.
Elias was hunched over it, blood smeared across his face, chest rising and falling with ragged breath.
His eyes glowed faint red beneath tangled hair.
Black veins spread down his neck and arms like roots burned into skin.
He looked up.
Didn't speak.
Just stared.
Kaelen's heart slammed in his chest. His legs locked in place. He tried to breathe quietly but failed.
A step back. Snow crunched underfoot.
Behind him
A branch snapped.
A low growl rumbled from the trees.
The direwolf stepped into view massive, jet-black, and still.
Its eyes burned like smoldering fire.
It said nothing. Needed to say nothing.
Kaelen's throat went dry.
His legs wanted to run. His body refused.
Elias stood, slow and silent. Blood dripped from his fingertips.
Kaelen raised both hands palms up, voice shaking.
"I... I didn't mean to see anything. I wasn't spying, I swear. I'll stay quiet. I won't say a word. Just... don't eat me."
The wolf growled again low, warning.
Kaelen flinched hard.
"Wait wait! I I can get you something. Gold! Or fine weapons, made by the best blacksmiths in the North "
Elias stepped forward.
His face bloodied. Eyes dim. Silent.
"Or... or men! If you need soldiers, I can get you that! Or... magic!"
That made Elias pause.
He cocked his head.
"Magic?"
His voice was rough. Dry. Like stone being scraped.
Kaelen nodded too fast, breath catching.
"Yes. I mean yes, I can get that. We have a sage. In the family. Old. Knows things blood magic, rituals, old curses... He's taught nobles. He might be able to help you fix this, whatever this is."
Elias said nothing. His breathing slowed. The glow in his eyes faded to coal.
The black veins twitched once… then sank beneath his skin.
Silence.
Then:
"Can your sage cure me?"
Kaelen hesitated.
"I… I don't know," he admitted. "But if anyone could, it's him. He's wise. Been alive longer than most families. He's seen things. Maybe he'd understand what you are."
Elias studied him long and quiet.
Kaelen braced for death.
But instead, Elias walked past him. Silent. Calm. The direwolf followed, brushing close enough that Kaelen felt the cold off its fur.
It didn't bite.