Soulweaver 81: Whiteout (Patreon)

To say that I was woefully unprepared for the environment that greeted me was a comical understatement. The weird thing was, I didn’t even panic.

Instead, I contentedly ate the ice-cold snow, which mercifully dissipated the heat from my armored body. It was like stepping from a steam room into a nice, cold bath.

Wait, seriously. What the hell?

Or, I suppose more appropriately: Did hell freeze over?

Sputtering, I got to my knees to find pure white in every direction I could see. 

Which wasn’t far at all, owing to the wind and the snow. That refreshing breeze was actually a billowing, ice-cold snowstorm, and now that my sweat and heat had dried, I was beginning to cool down fast.

Not good. Not good!

I got to my feet, my boots sinking into the pure, driven snow. The Cataclysm Dungeon had apparently transported me to an ice world.

I was alone, starting to freeze, and there were no signs of shelter anywhere nearby.

Shit. Did Aerion get thrown into this, too?

For her sake, I sincerely hoped not. Metal armor might not have been the best insulation, but it at least blocked the wind. Aerion, in her robe, was distinctly not prepared for a winter environment.

Actually, I wasn’t sure it’d matter much. I was no stranger to brutally cold winters, having growing up in the north, but this was far worse than anything I’d ever experienced. Far far worse.

My best guess put it at negative sixty, or maybe lower. Antarctica weather—too harsh to sustain life, and absolutely lethal if I spent more than a few minutes out here.

I turned a full circle. This was… really bad. I had no idea where I was, and I couldn’t see a thing in this blizzard. I could be ten feet from shelter, and if I picked the wrong way to go, I was dead.

Just when I started to panic, the wind lulled, and my body went rigid. Not from the cold, but because I heard something.

My first instinct was wolves. Or some ice monster. My second instinct was to run, but I quickly overrode that. If there really was a predator out there, there was no way I’d out run it. 

So I stuck my poleax in the snow and pulled out Light of the Fearless. Its flames lit, and my heart pounded in my chest. Whatever was out there, it was big.

I heard it again. Louder this time. It sounded almost like a… A yell?

No. Plenty of animals sounded human, and with this wind, I could easily have mistaken it. I heightened my senses, and waited, trying to recall all the combat training I’d had lately.

Muscles relaxed, knees slightly bent, deep breaths. Easier said than done when every lungful of freezing air felt like breathing needles, but I did my best. Of course, they just had to come from upwind, and without an eye shield, my helmet was useless blocking the snow trying to fill my eyes.

Through the wind, I saw something. A dark form. I adjusted my position. At least now I knew where they were coming from.

“—eg?”

That… was definitely speech. Okay, not hearing things. They were humanoid, and could talk.

“—reg…at…y—?”

I frowned. They were trying to communicate. Which meant they might not be hostile? I lowered my sword just a bit, but kept it pointed in their direction.

Then the wind lifted for the briefest moment, and I saw the stranger for who they were.

For the love of—

“Greg! Is that you?”

“Aerion!” I cried, running towards her. Or, plodding, as best I could. I crashed into the elf, enveloping her in a great hug.

“You’re… cold,” she muttered, half sobbing. Her breath had frozen around her face, and the falling snow had formed little icicles that hung off of her frozen hair.

“So are you!” I shouted, trying to be heard over the wind.

“How? How are we together?”

“I don’t know!” I yelled back. “But now’s not the time! We need to find shelter!”

“What?”

“Shelter!” I shouted into her ear.

“Right. That way!” she said, pointing in the direction she came. “I saw something that way!”

“Okay then! Let’s go! Stay close! Easy to get lost!”

I led the way, acting as a windbreak for Aerion, who took my words to heart and clung to my armor, sometimes tripping over my legs. I was perfectly okay with that—I’d rather fall in the snow than risk getting separated in this whiteout.

Despite the deep snow, Aerion’s footsteps were already getting covered, and I soon lost the trail, having to backtrack. Thankfully, Aerion was better at tracking than I was, so we were able to find it again.

That happened twice more over the course of the next five, harrowing minutes, and each time, I grew more desperate. Our timer was counting down, and there weren’t many grains of sand left in our hourglass.

My fingers, toes, and ears were the first to go numb. I couldn’t believe how incredibly hard it was to plot through this snow, even with my enhanced stats. Shortly after, I felt something tug at my armor, only to turn around and find Aerion, curled up in a ball, cradling her hands.

“Fuck! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Without waiting for a reply, I scooped her up and carried her in my arms. Her light weight and my stats in Dominion made the task feel like nothing, especially when compared to the torture of walking, and so I continued plodding on. 

The pain in my extremities dulled and vanished, and I knew I was on the verge of frostbite. I didn’t even want to think of Aerion’s digits—we’d have to treat them the moment we were warm.

 “Where is it? Didn’t you say it was around here?” I asked. No response. “Aerion!” 

She’d fallen unconscious. Either from the pain, or maybe from hypothermia. Either way, our situation had just gone from bad to worse. If I didn’t find—

My eyes spotted something in the distance. Again, it was hard to say for sure. My eyes had played tricks on me several times already, making me think I’d spotted a structure, only to end up being nothing. Like a wintry mirage, born out of my own desperation.

I didn’t plod, I sprinted all-out, making a beeline for the structure. My excitement grew with each step that brought me closer. Each step where the building didn’t disappear.

Five steps later, I was sure it was real.

Two steps after that, I began to panic. What if it was occupied by hostile forces? What if there was no way in?

When I was ten feet away, I was finally able to make out what sort of structure it was. A stone and timber hut. A small, rudimentary structure with one door and only one small window. A chimney extended out the steeply gabled roof, but there was no smoke. That could either be good or bad, but at least it was unoccupied. Nobody could survive in these temps without a roaring fire.

“Hello!? Anybody in there?” I hoisted Aerion onto my shoulder and rapped on the door, hard. I tried the knob. Locked.

I waited ten seconds. No reply. While I really didn’t want to break down the door, I wasn’t about to pick the lock, so I took a step back and kicked with all of my might.

It turns out that was a bit overkill. With my stats, the door didn’t merely open, it whipped 180 degrees and slammed so hard against its frame that it bent.

I winced, but at least the door didn’t come off its hinges. That would’ve been far worse.

Hurrying inside, I found a single, large room, with two rudimentary log bunk beds in a corner, a long table against a wall, and a fireplace at the other end. There were some other odds and ends too, but I ignored those for now.

What I needed was firewood. Setting Aerion down by the mantle, I brought out Light of the Fearless and activated its namesake ability, placing the edges next to Aerion’s hands and feet.

The fire only lasted a few seconds, but even that was enough to warm the surrounding area. While it wouldn’t solve the problem, I at least hoped it’d give me enough time to search the area.

The log holder by the mantle was empty, so I hurried back outside and circled the building, making sure I kept one hand on the wall at all times to be absolutely sure I wouldn’t get lost in the whiteout.

I’d hoped to find some firewood, but came up empty, and I belatedly realized any wood left outside would be of much use, anyway. With this extreme cold and snow, it’d have been too wet to use, and frozen anyways.

Cursing myself, I came back in, freezing and desperate. My own digits hurt so much, I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry like Aerion had. But one look at my sickly pale friend, and all thoughts of pain vanished.

So what if I didn’t have firewood? I just had to make some. There was plenty of furniture, all wood. I brought out Light of the Fearless, and started hacking.

I wasn’t choosy. Anything large enough and made of wood was fair game. The main table, the chairs, and another table all fell quickly, easily cut by my strength and my sword’s sharpness. 

Within minutes, I had a pile of wood in front of me.

I’d started a few fires in my life on camping trips, but always with matches. Even those required a lot of prep work, whittling down the wood into tiny slivers to get the flame to light. Nursing a fire to life was a lot harder than it looked, but luckily, I had some tools that allowed me to bypass that rigmarole.

Namely, my blade.

Throwing the logs into the fireplace, I activated [Light of the Fearless], which immediately combusted the wooden pieces, forming a roaring fire in just seconds.

Rushing over to Aerion, I placed her closer to the fire. Then I got to work stripping off her gloves and boots, but recoiled when I touched her fingers. They were so unbelievably cold.

Unable to just sit around and hope that the fire brought her back to life, I rubbed her hands and feet, trying to impart as much warmth as I possibly could into her.

“Aerion? Aerion, can you hear me?”

No reply.

After what felt like an eternity, her body finally seemed to warm up to normal temperatures, but it was only when I saw the faint rising and falling of her chest that I breathed easily.

I’d just barely managed to keep my friend from dying.

Now all I had to do was prepare some hot water, figure out where the hell we were, and find some way of surviving this arctic wasteland.