(TLO) Chapter 58: Heart of Winter (Patreon)

There was a dreary nature in the cold of winter. Even in the afternoon, bright as it was supposed to be, the canopy of trees and the ever falling snow gave it an odd feeling. Perhaps if it was the woods, and the canopy had not been as dense, the afternoon would have felt more alive. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. And this afternoon in the forest felt more like the dying evening.

Seth gathered his swords around him, each one in their mundane sheaths of wood brown, unadorned and without beauty. With hurried hands, he fixed them in place, each going where it was intended. The last went behind him, strapped to his hip.

Well equipped, he stood tall in his cassock.

It had been a while since he’d been dropped off in the snow. He had been the first of his brothers to be ejected from the carriage. Igor had given him neither advice nor scorn, simply sending him off with the same scowl Seth had grown accustomed to. It was an odd comfort to know the man hated him. After all, what would it say about him if a man so cruel liked him.

In the noon time the forest’s chill was bone deep and it made him wonder how bad it would be in the dark of night. The thought of it sent a shiver through his already shivering form. Why the seminary hadn’t deemed it necessary to grant them their winter cloaks for this test continued to baffle him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they didn’t want some of them to come back alive.

Prepared as best he would ever be, he trudged on through the snow that gathered high enough to swallow his feet, knowing his first course of action. If he did not find a suitable spot for shelter, the night would trouble him greatly.

We might not even survive it long enough to test these out, one of his minds pointed out.

Seth ignored it. Since they’d picked the weapons he’d been feeling each mind’s anticipation to use them. It was almost as if they did not take the threat of a reia beast seriously.

We don’t think the seminary would send us after something of iron authority or higher, another mind thought.

Seth ignored this one as well.

He moved, wandering the forest, the falling snow casting it in a bridal white. It blanketed the grass so that there was no sign of green to be seen and stained the trees in patches of its white. It made even the trees look cold.

Seth cast the thought of the chill from his mind, hurrying forward, eyes searching along with three minds as he sought out a spot for which to make his shelter. He would need branches and a lot of snow, all of which he already had at his disposal all around him. The only real issue would be making the branches dry enough to serve as wood for fire.

Night was drawing near when he found a suitable spot. It was at the edge of a high rise where the forest grounds elevated. The snow made it seem more a white fluffy hill than the rough dirt he knew rested beneath it. Making a mental note of the location, he went to work.

He gathered wood almost fit for fire. Stacked snow until his fingers grew numb from exposure. He made it wide so that he would have enough space within to stretch his limbs and make a fire. He would make an igloo if he could, but his skills barely made his new shelter sufficient. The night was darkening and his stomach was grumbling when he finished his project.

It was a dome of sorts built against the rising hill. Its exterior was discordant and wobbly but was sure to hold. The mouth of his shelter was intentionally small, designed to keep as much of the cold air as possible out. Inside was clear, clean ground all around—as clean of snow as he could get it. At the center he’d cleared the grass, pulling them at the root till he had nothing but sand, wet as it was. He had sticks stripped of their wet barks piled at one side of the shelter, a few stacked at the middle with which he would use for fire when it got too cold.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he sat at one end and inhaled deeply. He had performed his daily quest in the morning, mere moments after midnight. He’d slaved at the task of the draw till his shoulders were sore and his legs numb before returning to bed. Glad that he didn’t have to worry about it till the next day, he pulled up more pressing matters.

A notification had come while he’d been busy creating his shelter and he’d discarded it without thought. Now that he had a moment to spare he brought it back up.

New Quest: [Test of Winter]

The seminary has deemed its training sufficient enough to pit its seminarians against the unknown of the winter’s wild.

They know of the horrors that lie hidden in the lands of snow and believe only the worthy will survive.

Prove yourself worthy. Survive the land of snow and death and return to them greater than when you left.

...

Objective: [Kill Reia Beasts 0/10].

...

Reward: Heart of Winter.

Consequence: Expulsion, Possible Death.

“Ten reia beasts?” he snapped. “Am I meant to hunt them down or something?”

That would be preferable, a mind replied.

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

We know. But it would be best if we hunt them instead of letting them come to us.

Agreed, another opined. We mean, this place isn’t exactly defendable territory.

We’re not even sure it’s going to survive the night.

“It will,” Seth mumbled.

Unlikely. Regardless, back to the reia beasts. If there are up to ten of them around, then we think it will be best if we hunt them. That way we get to take them out where and when we say so.

Seth’s hand touched the hilt of one of his swords absently. “That would be best.”

We say we head out now, another mind thought, excited.

Another shut it down very quickly. Not now. We’re not ready. We need food.

Sustenance! Another thought so loudly Seth winced.

“Yes.” He frowned. “Food. And not so loud. You’ll give me a headache.”

Been there, done that, another mind thought with disinterest.

“Doesn’t mean I’m willing to go through it again.”

He really doesn’t know how high our pain tolerance is, does he? A mind asked with a touch of disappointment.

That’s because he’s never asked.

Seth sighed, knowing they wanted him to ask. “And how high is my pain tolerance?” he indulged them.

Very.

Like, a lot.

Your brothers will be surprised at how high it is. We don’t even think Fin can take the kind of pain you take.

Seth frowned at this. “It can’t be tha—”

You’ve fought until you lost a freaking arm, Seth, a mind cut him off. Then you kept on fighting.

“But it was all in my head,” he replied, remembering when it had happened during one of his [Lucid Dreaming] when he’d fought against monsters called Broken Roaches. They had been cockroaches as tall as the average man with legs as sharp of razor. He shuddered at the memory. There had been so much blood.

Doesn’t make the pain any less, though.

“What of Timi?” Seth asked. “He was a mess after fighting that shrike.”

You. Lost. An. Arm…

.. And. Kept. Fighting.

Seth opened his mouth, unsure of his next objection but another thought beat him to the conversation.

Countless. Times. Timi just got a few bruises.

It seemed there was no beating them in this argument. So he didn’t even try.

……………………………………

Seth crawled out of his shelter and shivered at the night’s cold. He stood to his full height which wasn’t much by male standards and stretched.

You think we can pull it off? A mind asked.

Seth shrugged. Then he reached into one of the slits in his cassock and brought out a string he’d stolen from the hall where they practiced with the bow. He stretched it as wide as it could go between both hands and nodded.

It pleased him.

Now all we need is a satisfactory stick.

“Shouldn’t be hard.”

You sure?

“Emriss taught us how to fashion a makeshift bow at times like this.”

True, a mind replied, but I don’t remember us being any good at it.

Seth rolled the string back up, ignored his mind, and went in search of a suitable stick. As he walked a thought came to mind and he asked, “Anyone know what the Heart of Winter is?”

Nope.