Valen straightened his mask, trying to center it on his face. The harsh winds of a harsher land tried to tear it from him completely. There were no holes to see through. The winds were enough to cause permanent damage in seconds; the cold was worse. It was almost able to crawl down any exposed skin.


    As a result of this, each and every hopeless individual was given an eyeless mask, along with a very important command. “Walk forward and do not remove your mask.” It did not seem sinister on the first day of walking, but now that he felt nearly two entire days had passed, it felt like a larger task than he had originally signed off on. The pay was great, but was it great enough? A more educated and wise man would have turned down such a conspicuous offer. Valen felt a contempt in his heart for whoever organized this expedition.


    Damn it all! This is bad, really bad! How much longer until we exit the Hyperborean Shield? Even with this artifact, it’s too cold, much too cold! I can’t even ask because of these winds… Valen would have sighed if he had not been afraid of the slight movement causing too much space to open within the mask. It was tight, but not enough to risk the frostbitten wind’s affliction.


    His mind began to race with all the possibilities of this endless darkness. Maybe I got separated from the group? What if Ray or Nat got lost! God, this darkness… Sholeht, please protect me in this environment! There was no feedback for any step he took. The snow was too deep; his feet sunk more than a meter into the ground before somewhat stopping. The only sound to be heard was the howling wind around him. Tasting was out of the question, and his arms were locked into a binding coat to preserve heat. Even with the protection of the Bundle Sun, he still could not smell; his nose was frozen solid. All of this, combined with his inability to see past the eyeless mask’s dark fabric, meant that he had no senses to remain connected to the world aside from the slight sensation of his legs sinking.


    After what felt like another eternity of walking, Valen was provided with exactly what he asked for; his body began to freeze. In a moment, it had gone from slightly uncomfortable to an unbearable pain. Screams began to erupt from around him. There was no way to make conversation in the hyperborean shield, but these loud wails? They could easily be heard. Valen took comfort in them as his body felt like it was about to turn to ice; he had not gotten separated from the group; he was safe. At least, this would be until his body finally froze. In the little time he had, Valen needed to decipher why this happened and how he could survive.


    Has the bundle sun failed? Valen wondered, as his body continued to cool, which brought along with it an odd sensation; his legs were the warmest part. They were partially exempt from the abrasive winds due to the time they spent submerged inside the snow. Valen found it odd, but this oddity worked to his advantage. So long as he remained conscious, he was hopeful that his legs would never be entirely frozen.


    Just as this determination spread through his body, a familiar voice shrieked. It was very feminine, and even though the usual cutesy tone that accompanied it was washed away in the harsh winds of Hyperborea, the cadence was still very much there. Nat! Valen fought the urge to scream out to her. The idea of these winds penetrating his eyeless mask outweighed his want to reach out to Nat; having her rely on him was a dream, but Valen had been a cowardly boy and was just as cowardly a man.


    I’m sorry, Nat! I really am! Valen remained steadfast in his trek forward. In tune with what he believed the rest of the expedition was doing, he began to speed up. If the bundle sun had really failed, then they had maybe ten minutes. They had been walking for dozens of hours; it had felt like days; the end needed to be close. Yet, with every step that Valen took, more snow built up as he gradually lost feeling around his body. He even began to feel the slight feedback in his legs dwindle. Valen did not know if this was due to tired muscles or the cold; both of them were dangerous; he did not bother assessing which it was.


    Valen continued forward, and amidst his intense concentration, the winds seemed to shatter in an instant. A symphony of tired, pained voices took its place. Did I—we really? We made it out? “Did we make it!?” Valen shouted to the speakers.


    There was a silence as Valen imagined each person turning to face him. Though, he considered all of them being entirely too absorbed in their own survival to answer him as a reasonable conclusion. Then, he felt his body being weighed down; it was like a brick had fallen on his shoulder.


    “We fucking made it!” Ray cheered from his side before pulling his friend’s eyeless mask off and continuing, “Take in that sight! This is why I signed up for this deathtrap.”


    Valen looked out at a beautifully pristine sky; it was bright and shimmered with colorful lights. In an odd twist of fate, there was no sun illuminating this sky. I’ll try to figure it out later. Then—still shaking cold, despite the slight reprieve—he looked up at Ray and asked, “W-where is Nat?”


    Ray looked back at him with reluctance. His demeanor was that of a statue: indomitable yet unable to say what he wanted to. His eyes were fixed just beyond Valen. Slowly, he raised his hand and set it back onto Valen’s shoulder. Just as his burly friend had done this, Valen felt another sensation; it was like a cloth was being draped over his other side; with a chilling pulse, it was pressed into the side of his left cheek—which had just regained feeling.


    “... I’m here, Valen,” Natalie said in an unenthusiastic, terrified voice.


    Valen turned to face Nat; her hair was a tangled mess of blonde strands, slowly turning white from the snow; her eyes were still a bright blue but looked to have lost their luster; the essence of her entire being shared these aspects. He took in all of her disheveled and hopeless essence and said, “Nat, I heard you scream.”


    “...” Natalie remained silent as she stared into the distance. She made a few sounds that sounded like she was beginning to weep.


    Ray walked in front of Valen. His face was entirely illuminated despite the large hood that fell just above his eyes and around the sides of his face; it was a hint to how this area stayed lit. Ordinarily, the sun would cast a shadow, leaving the lengthy man’s face shrouded; this implied the light was coming from below; it was reflecting the light of something else. Interesting! Valen thought but refused to flash a smile.


    “We’re all tired, Valen,” Ray said in a low voice; his joyful exterior deteriorated in only a couple of minutes. “Why don’t we set up our tents before anything else?”


    Valen looked around at the others who had embarked on this trip; each in their formed groups, they began to assemble their reinforced tents. “That sounds good,” he said, tearing his heavy rebreathing kit from his face and moving his half-mask back up.


    Only thirty minutes later, Valen had nearly finished forming his large dome tent. He was exhausted; carrying the tent, food supplies, canisters for his rebreather, and his heavy set of clothing for more than two days had worn out his back. He fought the urge to lie down in the spacious tent, despite how comfortable the bed looked; any bed would have looked comfortable to him at that moment.


    There were a few more important matters. What was with Nat’s reluctance? What really happened to her in the Hyperborean Shield? This matter was lower on the list, but Valen could not help himself from checking it out first. Natalie was too important to him to leave for last. Besides, most of him did not want to even acknowledge the possibility of the bundle sun having failed; there were also rumblings of Calise not taking any visitors right now. Valen himself was not keen on trying to force himself into her tent; he was mediocre, unable to rival someone like the expedition leader.


    Valen made sure all of his outside clothing was in order before leaving the tent. It was still much too cold. Just because the winds of the Hyperborean Shield were no more did not mean that they would start swimming in the Ninth Terse Basin. He slipped on his pair of heavy, steel-toed boots and clicked them together; they were tight enough, perhaps a little too restraining. Better safe than sorry!


    He assumed Ray had already set up his tent; he was a professional nomad. Valen wished he had lived such an exciting life before setting off for Hyperborea. Then again, he knew that he had neither the mental fortitude nor the bond for such an endeavor; in Hyperborea he was able to feel that grandeur without either of these things.


    As he tread the lightly packed snow of Hyperborea, Valen noted the progress of every tent; most of them were entirely set up already. Eventually, he reached Natalie and saw Ray helping her finish building. Natalie had a smaller form, making it difficult to bend the tent’s poles.


    “Ray, Nat!” Valen called out, his steps in the snow hurrying as he ran.


    “Hey, Valen. Have you finished building your tent already?” Ray asked, hammering a stake into the ground, anchoring another corner of the tent. He picked up a nearby rock and set it on top.


    “Actually, I came here to enlist your help…” Valen watched as the surprise on Ray’s face turned to irritation. “Fine, I already finished it; don’t worry! I only came to see if the both of you had finished on your own.”


    “We’re almost done. Come help me hammer in this last nail; this snow is taller here, making it difficult.”


    Valen nodded, shoveling the snow out with his gloves. He made an area wide enough for the nail and held it in place as Ray looked at it from above. Then, he brought his small hammer down with the strength of two men. Only a couple more swings and the nail was entirely set in place; only the head could be seen. The both of them placed a heavy rock on top before shoveling the snow over again.


    Only a couple of hours later, all three of them were huddled around a fire just in front of Natalie’s tent. There was no wood to be found in Hyperborea, a fact that the expedition organizers assumed; they thought that it would be pitch black, without sun, and by extension, meant that there was no chance for trees to grow. So, they gave Calise—the expedition leader—six fire starters. These "fire starters" were not typical; instead of sparking flint, these were excavated from a perpetual fable and thus had certain unusual qualities to them. These "fire starters" were able to set large flames with almost anything.


    They might have been wrong, though... Depending on the origin of this light, could trees grow? If I record the habits of this “sky,” would I be able to get a commission from them? To give hope for permanent habitation of Hyperborea; that would give a healthy amount! This prospect was tantalizing for Valen, but he distanced himself from it, at least for now.


    Valen looked up at the sky, shimmering with orange and blue lights; the effervescent bubbling of purple and green hues intertwined, tethering the four colors together. It made for a beautiful sight, one that Valen had not been able to appreciate in its entirety since stepping out of the Hyperborean Shield.


    He turned his attention to Ray and Natalie, both of whom were silent, gazing into the fire; they had been informed that two of their friends had passed away. It made sense, the longing look in both of their eyes. Valen had a few interactions with the duo; they were sweet but hardly gave him enough of a reason to do anything more than wish them better in their next life.


    The sound of boiling water pulled both of them away from their sad thoughts. Valen leaned forward, using a wooden utensil to lift the weightless lid up slightly; his other hand prodded a portion of the meat. Any goods that needed to be preserved were placed into heavy boxes and were pulled by a group of strong spirits; they were tethered by a long string, placing them far away from the group and, by extension, out of the radius of the bundle sun. As such, they were entirely frozen with zero chance of spoiling.


    “You two,” Valen said, looking at Ray and Nat. He clapped his hands and clicked the fire starter. “Dinner is ready! I’m an excellent cook, so don’t expect anything but the best from me.”


    Natalie smiled and rubbed her thigh as she rose. “Alright, I’ll go get the plates,” she said with a sullen voice before crouching down next to her massive backpack.


    Valen looked up at the top of his tent as he tried to fall asleep. Even if the bundle sun had failed in the Hyperborean Shield, it was too warm for it to be entirely nonfunctional. Yes, there’s a more likely chance for its effect to have lessened from prolonged use or something similar. I’ll confront Calise about it tomorrow. I really don’t want to dismantle this tent and build it again…


    <hr>


    Shwu! Shwu! Valen immediately sat up and began to quietly move. Something was moving along the side of his tent; any work that went into strengthening it was targeted at the weather. What sort of creature could survive in this place anyway?


    Valen had been told stories—particularly by Ray—of various creatures. There was a singular theme that united each of these absurd stories, though; in places where logic and science fail to make a case, the only way to judge something was by the environment it inhabited and how much of it the creature had taken for itself.


    His gaze swept the floor of his tent for anything, and it landed on a slight knife that he had been using to get the grime out from under his fingernails. He knelt over and picked it up, slowly making his way towards the front of the tent; he brandished the knife in front of him.


    “Valen—”


    “Damn it, Nat!” Valen yelled, throwing the knife down to his side and placing his hand against his chest. He took in a few deep breaths and sat down, rubbing his eyes with his palms.


    “...Are you alright, Valen?” Natalie asked, worry shining at the forefront of her voice. A brief silence after her words told her all she needed to know. “I’ll come back tomorrow, alright?”


    “No, come in, Nat.” Valen unzipped the tent.


    Valen welcomed her inside, making sure she did not step onto the knife he had cast aside. He watched her sit down, her eyes nervously jumping to different parts of the room. “Are you alright?” he asked.


    Natalie remained silent for a few seconds before responding, “I should be asking you that question. What is this Valen? All of this junk spread out across your floor. Are you depressed?”


    “I’m just a little homesick, Nat. You’re too worried about me. What about Ray?” Valen said, leaning to the side of Natalie, and picked up the knife he had thrown away. “...This was a gift from my grandmother. She was a sickly woman who never cared to give away much to anyone; this means a lot to me. She’s probably dead by now, though.”


    Natalie looked at the knife for a couple more seconds before meeting Valen’s eyes and saying, “I have something to tell you.” Instantly, tears began to well up in her bright blue eyes. She turned away, covering them with her hand.


    “Out with it, Nat. There are too many uncertainties in this place,” Valen urged her. Noticing her reluctance, he asked, “Does it have to do with your scream in the Hyperborean Shield?”


    Natalie turned back; her face was flush red, and the tears made their way along the sides of her nose before falling against the tent below her. She reached her hands up to hide her reddened eyes from Valen. “I—I don’t want them to leave me behind, Valen!” Natalie held her face with her hands, tangling her fingers in long, blonde hair.


    “Leave you behind?” Valen shook his head. The pieces were not fitting together in his mind. “What are you talking about? Why do you think they would leave you behind?”


    Natalie crawled across the length of the tent, approaching Valen. She turned to face the door. She pulled down the seal-scarf that melded her undershirt to her eyeless mask when they had been traversing the Hyperborean Shield. Underneath the seamless and airtight fabric, there was what appeared to be an infection spreading. It lashed out from the origin point in several directions. There were notes written on several of its tendrils.


    These notes read: “7 hours, 11 hours, 13 hours.” They were clearly made to denote the infection’s growth over this period of time.


    This was a bad case of Scouring Frostburn. Some environments were cold enough for frost to burn. Steam rose up from the wound, to which Natalie appeared to feel no pain; this was due to scouring frostburn’s ability to target nerves; those in her neck were already fried beyond repair. It was only a matter of time before it spread to other parts of her body, slowly leaving her entirely numb, one section at a time.


    Valen reached out to touch the infection, only to shrink back upon feeling Natalie’s reluctance. “I’m sorry, Natalie,” Valen apologized. “You’ve told Ray already. Is that why you two have been acting so weird today? What did he think?”


    Natalie shrank back further and turned to Valen as she looked at him with a pitiful expression. She began to dig her nails into her own arm, as if she was trying to carve into a hearty cut of meat.


    “He told you to tell Calise,” Valen said, answering his own question. “You would only have come here if you disagreed with what he had to say; what’s more disagreeable than declaring your condition to Calise? You understand what has to happen, right? If you don’t tell Calise yourself, then Ray will do it for you. A professional nomad would never act against the best interests of the group.”


    “I don’t—”


    “You have to!” Valen interrupted. He calmed his quickened breaths and let out a sigh. “Look, Calise might have something to deal with that infection, which will kill you eventually. It''s your best shot. Ray is going to tell him regardless. What do you think Calise will think if he informs him in your stead? Probably that you’re a liability.”


    What can she do? Either she keeps it a secret, somehow convinces Ray, and ends up dying eventually, or she reports it to Calise, and she has a solution, or she dies anyway.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    “Look, Natalie,” Valen grabbed her hand. “That''s all you can do.”


    “I don’t want to die, Valen.” Natalie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.


    Under normal circumstances, Valen would have been ecstatic to have this woman pull him into her embrace, but right now, he only felt pity. He grabbed her arms, pulling them off of him and gently pushing her away. “Natalie, you should get some sleep. Do you need me to walk you back to your tent?”


    <hr>


    Valen was already exhausted from walking again, but they had yet to reach the center of Hyperborea; this was the goal of their entire expedition. There was no way for them to leave without it. Regardless, Valen was content with the ability to see this as he walked this time; he never wanted to put an eyeless mask on ever again. He dreaded the fact that he would need to once it was time to leave.


    He turned to face Natalie and Ray, both of whom were walking just to his left. They were quiet, neglecting to speak amidst the silence that permeated the open air of Hyperborea. Valen was fine with this; Natalie''s visit last night had been awkward, so he was content to avoid any conversation about it for as long as time would allow.


    As they continued to walk, the sky eventually shifted its hues from the warmer colors of dawn to colder, more eerie tones—wispy greens and deep-sea blues. The environment slowly shifted; the uneven ground where they had exited from the Hyperborean Shield gradually smoothed out, and the trees—which should not have been able to grow—faded away, replaced by barren fields of snow and flowers that seemed to defy the destiny they were given in this place, to die and wither away.


    Eventually they had spotted a massive frozen lake with large, icy-blue spires that protruded out at least fifteen meters from the ground. There was a bright blue, rule-bound flame that flickered at the tips of these spires, their embers dissipated into the freezing air, and the purple-blue light that emanated from them danced across the other spires and the frozen lake below; it was a miraculous sight that could only be found in a place as bizarre and mysterious as Hyperborea.


    As they grew closer to the frozen lake, Valen could not help but feel a sense of unease and eeriness settle at the bottom of his stomach. He felt like everyone else around him—all of those who looked onward in awe, gasping and commenting on the beauty of these spires—had been pulled into a trance while only he remained lucid.


    Valen held his tongue as he took his first step onto the lake, frozen over; it was solid and without any sign of cracking—all of these people could not have possibly weighed a fraction of a single icy spire. Almost immediately, the air around him felt warmer, but this heat did not seem to come from the spires themselves or the flames above; instead, it was the large spires blocking gusts of wind, filtering it from all directions around him, save for the one he entered from.


    Despite the shelter from the chilly Hyperborean winds, Valen could not shake the feeling of unease that continued to well up inside him like a cup of effervescent wine. Now that he was standing under one of these frost spires, he looked upwards. It truly towered over him, making him once again feel his insignificance on this expedition. While he was fraught with worry, Calise—who was only ten meters ahead of him—seemed enthusiastic over the change in scenery; Valen wished he could be so optimistic. Perhaps if he had been on the threshold of becoming a Stray, then he would be acting the same way.


    After another couple of hours of walking, Calise stopped, turned around, and yelled out, “Alright, everybody, we''ve made a lot of progress today! Since the lake is ice, we can’t set up tents. These spires shield us from the wind, though, so I think it’s fine to go without them today. Feel free to wander; be sure to not end up too far away from anyone else, though.”


    Thank Sholeht! My legs have been aching for hours. Valen quickly sat down, catching his breath. He was not a frail man, but one of smaller stature; carrying so many supplies weighed heavier on him, much more so without the aid of the Bundle Sun.


    I wonder if Natalie will talk to Calise tonight. Valen wondered, eventually deciding to let Ray convince her to; it was easy to tell he was already trying, but Natalie was stubborn, a beautiful and stubborn woman. Valen thought back to the night prior when she had told him about her affliction; a part of him hoped the encounter had gone further, but he did not regret the choices he made that night.


    “Valen, do you want to go on a walk with us?” Natalie asked. Her steps were oddly quiet as she walked towards Valen; Ray was right behind her.


    Valen looked around, making sure nobody was too close before asking, “Do you two not feel anything off about this lake? For example, the apparent flames flickering at the top of the spires.”


    “Sarcasm isn’t a good look in Hyperborea, Valen,” Ray said. “Calise says it’s fine. The leader of our expedition would make such an assessment without putting in their due diligence. Remember how long we were delayed before being allowed to step onto the lake?”


    Valen inhaled, ready to speak his mind before letting out a sharp breath. Maybe I’m just being a little too paranoid. I should put my faith in Calise; he is on the border of becoming a Stray, after all. “Alright,” he said.


    They began to walk through the collection of frost spires. It was quiet without Natalie''s curious intrigue and playful conversation; the affliction and the tensions that were strewn between it and the entire expedition group were deeply affecting her. She was quiet, reserved, and seemed to have a lot going on within her. Ray, by comparison, did not seem burdened but instead freed. He took in the surroundings with the entirety of his soul, only neglecting to initiate conversation out of an apparent grudge against Natalie.


    Ray is definitely nearing his breaking point. It’s only a matter of time before he cracks and reports Natalie''s affliction to Calise. Valen sighed. This was a situation he desperately wanted to resolve. Yet, no matter how hard he wanted to, he couldn''t; Valen did not possess the means, neither the reputation nor the methods.


    Valen was about to speak up and peel his small group from the clutches of an awkward atmosphere when his head began to ring without respite. What? He immediately placed a hand atop his head and felt for wounds, the first step of care he had been taught in preparation for his expedition to Hyperborea: he was to carefully sift through his hair to check for lacerations on the head.


    “V-Valen? Are you—”


    Valen heard the voice of someone calling out before it dissipated, seemingly fading into the air. There was a purple light on the edges of his vision, and he turned to accommodate it. There… The purple light was radiating from one of the countless frosty spires that the lake wore like jewelry.


    “Valen, Valen, Valen!” An indistinguishable source echoed, growing louder with each shift in the purple spire’s hue.


    Valen did not know if this was Natalie’s voice, but he desperately hoped it was. Given how the pleasure to hear hers had been torn away from him, though, he figured it was something far more sinister. Is there another expedition group here? Have the Deckthoughs really expanded so quickly? No, why would they enter a place without the grace of the moonlight? There were a dozen other ideas that flooded Valen’s mind, some more plausible than others. He cast them aside and focused on the spire; there was a connection between it and the voice. It was almost like an extra link between Valen and whoever was speaking to him; an external ear that chose to convey only what it wanted to say.


    I’ll play your game… Valen thought as he blinked, his blurred vision grew worse. The only discernible object in sight was the purple light. Gradually, he pushed himself closer to it, despite the apparent grappling of entities around him that tried to deny him access. He wondered how Ray and Natalie were looking at him as he pushed himself forward.


    The light grew brighter and brighter as the limbs that tried to peel him back continued to strengthen their grip on him. Valen jerked his shoulder, pulled away, and threw himself forward.


    “Let go of me!” he yelled, to which he was met with a feminine shriek. Natalie’s voice was let through by the purple frost spire.


    Valen wanted to pull back and apologize, but he was too far away now, and his head had not stopped ringing, even for a second. The purple light began to glow more vibrantly and pulsed in shorter intervals; the ringing in Valen’s head also picked up its pace, beating like a living, breathing heart. He placed his hand upon the ice, hoping for the faint connection to clue him into the source of the bizarre phenomena; there had not been a moment that he had wished for a greater bond than this one. With nothing else working, he slammed his head into the frost spire, hoping to end the pain.


    Drip! Drip! Valen felt drops of liquid pattering against his head. He looked up to ascertain the source; it did not make sense; the pain had entirely ceased, despite him having heard his head click against the spire; it had to have caused great damage.


    His eyes widened at the sight that played itself out before him. He was covered in the blood of a woman high above him; with her blonde hair and pasty skin, it was clear this was Natalie, skewered through the chest by a long javelin formed of the same ice as the spires.


    What—what is this? Did I fall asleep? Valen looked around, trying to gather more information. There were dozens of people watching the blood pour from Natalie’s chest cavity. “D-do something! Anyone, any one of you! Do something!”


    Valen turned his attention to the assailant: they were a tall figure adorning a black robe with gold lining on it; their hair only fell to their shoulders and was a deep blue as dark as midnight; the underside of it was lighter and looked to be riddle with thousands of rippling stars; two seafoam gems peered into Valen’s eyes as the figure tilted their head. Instantly, he felt the urge to vomit as the world seemed to fall further away from him.


    <hr>


    Hah! Hah! Hah! Valen sat up, clutching at his chest. He turned, seeing Natalie look at him with an odd expression. “Nat… What… Where—where am I?” he asked, looking up at a large sheet of cloth strewn over them.


    “Camp,” Natalie said, simply. “I’m going to need you to lay back down, Valen; that laceration on your head has to be dealt with. Also, Ray promised not to tell Calise about your… outburst until you explain what happened to him.” She patted her lap.


    Valen’s nerves slowly calmed down as he assessed the situation in his mind. He let out a sigh and gently laid down onto Natalie’s lap. “That’s fine; I need to talk to Calise anyway.”


    “Valen…” Natalie’s cold hands wrapped around his cheeks.


    “It’s not about you, Nat,” Valen said, waiting for Natalie to move her hands away.


    As Natalie returned to fixing up Valen’s laceration, he tried to relax. His focus remained on Natalie as she worked, admiring her patience and care, her platinum blonde hair, her soft hands, her pleasant figure—


    “—You’re all set, Valen,” Natalie said. “Remember to tell me what happened later, all right? I can’t be the only one with problems in this wasteland.”


    Valen rose hastily, with his face having turned a rosy shade. He turned away from Natalie, hiding his embarrassment, and said, “S-sure, Natalie. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back.”


    As he left, Valen shook his head, looking up at the large cloth ''ceilings'' seemingly scattered from spire to spire. He admitted that it was a neat idea, one that he never thought of. More pressing than this, though, was whether or not Calise would believe him. Valen had not the faintest clue what he would do if turned away by the expedition leader.


    As he continued to look for Calise, Valen was shot more than a few curious looks from other members of the expedition; he was not overly popular or useful; neither was he a smooth-talker or exceptionally handsome, but that was precisely what made him memorable. Many people wondered why such an ordinary man was in Hyperborea and why, now, he was walking through their camp with his forehead wrapped in layers of bandages.


    Eventually, Valen caught a glimpse of Calise and his lengthy black hair, speckled with white strands. “Hey, Calise!” he called out, a slight pain in his voice.


    Calise turned away from a few other members of the expedition he was talking to and towards Valen. “What do you need, Valen?” he asked with a curious look on his face.


    Valen did not often talk to Calise, much less so with such anguish present in his tone. “There’s something I have to tell you about—”


    Wait, what will Calise think if that dream never occurs? Something so vivid in Hyperborea: an unexplored environment anything but normal, that would surely cause him to fear that I had suffered some sort of influence or caught a sickness of some kind. I think that I understand Natalie’s fear now…


    “—What is it, Valen?” Calise asked, now standing several meters closer. “Also, what happened to your head?”


    “Ah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The ice is almost entirely clear in some places, which can make seeing the difference in elevation difficult and, well… You can see what happened to me,” Valen answered, gesturing to his forehead. “You should warn everyone to watch their step.”


    Calise let out a short laugh and said, “Yes, well, we’ve already had another couple incidents like yours, none so severe though…”


    “Well, I wasn’t exactly too focused, so I couldn’t brace myself in time.”


    “I see. Is there anything else, Valen?” Calise asked as he looked at Valen’s wound a little closer.


    “...Maybe. I heard a rumor that there was an issue with the bundle sun; is it true?” Valen asked. He was intently focused on Calise’s face, hoping for his expression to give any information away.


    Upon hearing this, Calise’s expression did not change; he only tilted his head slightly. A sort of air emanated from him, though, as he spoke again, “Valen, you’re smart enough to know that I can’t tell you about the state of a classified artifact. I encourage you to keep any rumors to yourself and to refrain from spreading them.” He gently patted Valen on the shoulder.


    “Of course, Calise,” Valen said as he began to walk away.


    “Make sure that head heals well, alright!” Calise called out to him as he slowly faded from her view. He turned back towards the two people that Valen had pulled him away from and asked, “Where were we?”


    <hr>


    The next day, Valen was shocked at how quickly everything had been disassembled and packed again for their next day of walking; however long it would end up being, he only hoped it was shorter than the previous day. His focus was on something more important than himself this time; it was the dream he had experienced upon bashing his head against the frost spire; he believed that it was a prophecy. They say you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen. I surely would have remembered someone who looked so… unique.


    A part of him doubted whether it was real; Natalie and Ray had shut him down very quickly when he had tried to tell them about it. There was a feeling, though, one that was rooted deeply in his very soul that told him he was right. Valen frequently thought about ways that he could prevent the assailant’s attack throughout the prior night; the only method that did not grant him a swift death was somehow convincing this person to let them live.


    Then, Valen felt an acute pain shoot out from within his body. There was blood dripping down one of the frost spires in front of the expedition group. As his gaze followed the thick stream of blood upwards, he saw a large beast with its chest pierced by the spire. Just above its head, the blue flames flickered and danced like a crown.


    Is this some cosmic mockery? The beast was skewered in the same fashion that Natalie had been in Valen’s dream. Natalie was the highest priority in his mind at this moment. He turned towards her; she was looking at the beast in an apparent awe. It was uncharacteristic of her. Typically, Natalie was thrown off by the sight of blood—a quality that had made Valen exceptionally surprised when she bandaged his bloody forehead.


    A few minutes later, Calise—who had slipped away to examine the spire—returned and said, in a commanding voice, “We have determined that this creature’s death was a natural occurrence.”


    Then, only a couple of minutes after Calise’s concise statement, the expedition group continued to move. Valen bit down on his lip with enough force to make it bleed. He hoped that Natalie’s death had merely been a symbol for their encounter with the skewered beast, but the pit in his stomach did not dissipate. No, instead, the strands of fear and worry grew, were woven together, and formed a great ball of despair that Valen could not cast away despite his attempts to calm down.


    I—I made a mistake! I need to… tell Calise. Valen began to run forward towards Calise, only to be stopped by a few fellow members of the expedition, though they were of a higher rank than him; they even approached the threshold of becoming high-spirits.


    “Where are you going, Valen?”


    “I—I need to… Calise! Hey, stop moving forward, Calise!” Valen called out. He watched as his expedition leader turned around.


    “What is it, Valen!?” Calise yelled.


    Any further voices were caught underneath the roaring sounds of a dozen spires around them shattering into chunks of red ice. These chunks spread out across the entire floor before falling apart into nothing. The ground below them shook at the absence of the frost spires, as though they were the life force keeping the frozen lake alive.


    “Calise!” Valen called out again.


    However, his leader did not turn around this time. Calise rose his hands and chanted into the air, “Bound by nothing yet contained through it all. Relentless patience and unruly ruthlessness.” His black hair grew longer, and his body filled out slightly, causing his typically loose clothes to now sit tightly against his body. Any other kindred who were not thrown onto their backs by the titanic shaking below them decided to assume a cautious stance as well, following their leader’s movements.


    Valen, on the other hand, focused on making his way to Calise. There was no way for him to currently hear Valen over the loud rumbling. He crawled as he tried to approach Calise, scrambling across the shifting ice.


    “Calise! Calise!” he called out, to no avail. Not close enough... On the bright side, since everyone was preoccupied with themselves, there was no one preventing Valen from approaching his leader.


    As he began to near Calise, he could feel his skin getting colder as his spine began to shake. It felt like there was a pressure—greater than anything he had ever felt—pressing tightly against his body. Yet, the far left side of his body felt exempt from this pressure. Valen looked to his right; Calise was standing there, frozen with fear.


    Then, he was thrown backwards, and a figure—clad in a black robe, stitched with gold—grabbed a hold of his collar and pressed him deeply into the ground below. Several cracks spread out from the icy lake as a human-sized hole was made underneath Calise’s figure. The water below began to fill with a crimson red hue as a body—sprouting what appeared to be icy-blue roots—floated upwards and hit against the frozen lake.


    Calise! He died… for what? Because of my selfishness? Because of the chance that I believed I would have been cast away!? Valen shook his head and looked around him for Natalie; there was far too little time for him to dwell on past mistakes. Wh—no! Natalie began to chant, and the figure that loomed just to the right of Valen looked towards her with a deranged look in her two, seafoam gems. Without any other course of action, he latched onto the figure’s leg and looked up at them. The figure shook slightly before looking down at Valen.


    “We’re no harm! None of us are anything more than lowly Spirits!” Valen pleaded. A couple moments passed as he awaited the result of his actions. Could such few words have truly persuaded this figure?


    “Who are you?” the figure asked, their voice feminine and rough.


    “My name is Valen, miss,” he quickly responded.


    “Speak your invocation,” she demanded.


    “The desire to flee, to escape, and to die. Withheld glory to keep to oneself.” Valen looked up at the woman, hoping that it was satisfactory. A smile grew on the woman’s lips; Valen shrank away in fear.


    “Slight Spirit, do you like that girl?” the woman asked, gesturing towards Natalie, who had long quit chanting her invocation.


    “I—I do…” Valen said, maintaining contact with the woman’s two seafoam gems.


    “How valiant,” she said before asking, “Then, do you swear that each of these people is no more than a slight Spirit?”


    “Yes, none of these people are anything more!” Valen shook awkwardly and looked downwards. “He was a high-Spirit.”


    “Do you know the names Daulmin, Kharnan, Oriane, or Fhenn?”


    “No.”


    The woman heavily scrutinized Valen before speaking, “Stand up.”


    Valen quickly rose. Despite this, the woman still stood more than half a foot taller than him. He awaited her next words, understanding that whatever they were, they would decide the fates of him, Natalie, and everyone else in their expedition group.


    The woman leaned forward and pulled Valen to her side, guiding his head as she showed him the entirety of his expedition group as they watched him, stunned. “I thought that you people were a group sent by one of my less pleasant visitors.”


    The woman leaned towards Valen and whispered, “Each and every one of these people is indebted to you; you’re a savior. Congratulations, Valen.”


    Valen turned and looked at her in a new light. He felt a strange allure coming from her, one that he could not explain. “Could I ask… what your name is?”


    The woman laughed briefly before saying, “The few visitors I get have ended up calling me two different names. One of them is a little less than pleasant, so I’ll tell you the more endearing one. Some of them refer to me as the Hyperborean Spear.” She could not help but laugh a little more.


    “That’s the more endearing of the two?” Valen asked; the name was more than menacing.


    “I guess it''s a personal preference. Tell your companions to follow. The Hyperborean Fault is not far, but I won’t linger for long.”