“Glimmering archway of color,

A passage to the frozen north,

Only to those who follow the

Golden beast hiding in the woods.

It is not to be slain or skinned,

It is the temptation of it,

For you will be judged by the guide.

There is the land of no sunshine,

Where the cold seeps to even the bone,

With a sky of coursing rivers,

With the colors of a setting sun,

And the white plains covering all

Of which there is to be explored.

The land of high mountains and peaks,

Only rivaled by the giants,

That sweep high and low, broad and tall,

having memories of times past,

When they still roamed the northern lands.

A realm named by the oldest being,

The father of the giant brothers,

Which hold the great rims of the earth,

Echoed for time immemorial,

Heed as you pass to Väinölä.”

Passing through Väinölä, by Lorren Elinson.

A famous writer named Arthur Tobelius included the poem in the storybook that Ymir and Tuja read to Orel when he was little. It was a collection of many different stories of old sagas, epics, and classic children’s stories depicting wild adventures of destiny, prophecy, glory, and danger for the heroes to overcome in their travels. Among the plethora of stories, the book mentioned seven unique places that have puzzled, intrigued, and fascinated great men who have written their journies from visiting them. They were called the seven realms of the world. The most sought out, yet that have held out their status as myths, the seven realms of the world are scattered from the highest of skies to the deepest of jungles, containing the greatest of mysteries, intriguing lore, and exotic beasts. Many have written their descriptions from ancient times, yet there is no record of someone visiting them all. That is the goal of Orel Eislandr, and this was his first step towards his goal. He could hear her mother chanting the poem as the landscape opened to his eyes, which only made his eyes water more.

It was just as he had Imagined, nay, much more remarkable. No illustration from the book could compare to the whiteness of the snow and the tall mountain ranges in the distance. No painting or sketch could ever capture the true beauty that opened for him. It was an endless field of frost, where snow fell gently to the ground, giant spruce trees covering large patches of land as huge forests and occasional shrubs sprouting over the snow-covered bogs. The sky was dark but illuminated by the constant flow of fox fires and stars beneath them in more magnificent colors than he had ever seen. Small streams cutting the snowfields were crystal clear and stayed unfrozen even in harsh conditions. The wind blew softly, enough to make the countless snowflakes spin as they dropped from the sky. The air was so pure, only with its fresh taste that flowed through the lungs quickly and passed out in a stream of vapor. Orel could only stand in awe at the silent spectacle, not bothered by the cold one bit.

Sindri trotted next to Orel, trying as carefully as she could to bring him back to reality.

“Are you satisfied with the scenery?”

“It’s too beautiful to put into words.”

“You can stay as long as you want, but I must warn you, it is easy to forget the passing of time here,”

Orel paid no mind, as he was too mesmerized by the land. He could have watched it for hours which felt like minutes, walking on the hardened snow over the vast fields. A sudden rumbling only stopped him. First, it was an earthquake, but soon Orel could see something peeking behind the mountains far in the distance. A humongous figure rose and climbed over them, steadily moving towards Orel. The movement seemed sluggish until Orel realized how the giant leaped over the extensive forests with each step. The figure only became more prominent with each passing second, giving a terrifying lecture about perspective. The grey shirt worn on the waist with the sleeves out was made of leather, like the pants, but it was a frightening thought about what colossal animal they belonged to. The man’s body was full of tattoos of varying sizes, from bundles of runes to unknown symbols and pictures of animals in red, black, and blue shades. The feet were enormous, with each toe as large as a house and nothing covering them except the dark hairs as large as steel cables. Soon the ground would shake so that Orel was hardly staying up until the two large feet stopped at a reasonable distance. The man leaned to a squat position, where large blue eyes like giant marbles stared at Orel intently under the messy blonde hair. Each warm breath it blew was enough to raise the snow off the ground, and the braided beard that laid down was more akin to a large haystack.

“This is one of Kaleva’s sons, Skismith.” Sindri introduced the giant. “He is the maker of the dome that carries the sky.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Orel,”

The face of the giant almost completely blocked Orel’s vision. The giant blew a short burst of air from his long nose, stumbling Orel.

“It is a long time since a human visited here,” Skismith spoke with a voice that felt like a small earthquake.

“Who was it that visited here before me?” Orel was interested.

“I cannot remember clearly. Time has passed long since they came. It was two that came here, a man and a lady. Brother Väindålve was there too.”

Skismith stroke his enormous beard, making a rustling noise similar to a forest in a storm. “Sindri, do you remember?”

“It must have been that woman and her husband you are talking about. If I recall, it was two foreigners, each from different parts of the world.”

“I would need to ask, brother. He is much wiser than I, but he has no strength left in his fingers even to play a tune.”

“No need. It’s not that important.” Orel said.

Orel looked at the ground. The whiteness of the snow was far purer than he had ever seen.

“Could I take some snow with me?”

The giant laughed with thunderous magnitude. It was almost louder than his steps. He had to stop himself before Orel fell over.

“Ah- Take as much as you desire. There is no end to snow here.”

Orel scooped a small amount of snow into a jar he had with him in his backpack. It rested well inside the pot, though freezing it solid. Even through gloves, the cold was piercing like needles.

Skismith looked in wonder as Orel’s hat fell off and revealed his hair.

“That blonde hair, are you part god?”

“What? No, why would I be?“Orel put on his hat.

“Golden hair is a sign of divine heritage. See?” Skismith shook his thick blonde hair, making it crack the air like a whip.

“Well, my father’s side has blonde hair. Well, uncle Deras has gotten a bit bald.

“Hmm, I don’t sense too much divinity from you. Humankind has been separate from us for a long time. Perhaps it means less than I thought.”

“Giants are thought as wise in many aspects, being able to gather infinite wisdom through their immortality,” Sindri explained. “That is when they still roamed the lands.”

“You are lucky, Sindri. We do not get the chance to visit outside that often.”

“That is not my fault. Besides, it comes with dangers of its own,”

Orel reached into his pockets. He had an idea.

“Can I take a picture?”

“Of course,” Sindri said.

Orel turned his phone sideways and opened the camera, but something was wrong.

“It’s broken?”

“Sindri, did you want to fool the traveler?”

“I only amused myself.” Sindri smiled. “You see, Orel. This place is nowhere on any map or any place in the world. The barrier between our worlds collides in only a few locations.”

“That doesn’t really say why I can’t take a picture.”

“Let’s just say that the reason you are able to see us is that we allowed it.”

“Are there other ways to get here?”

“Very few have crossed the bridge, but there are other means. A passing ship may catch a glimpse of us, but a stormy sea protects us that few are able and willing to pass.”

“But why are you here?” Orel asked.

“Not long ago, people of the Messiah came to talk about their lord. Those priests said that their savior came and liberated the humans from us while we had fled to this island, never to return,” Sindri said. ”Their beliefs changed us. The giants became demons, while we fox changed from guides to treasure.”

“But people still believe in you.”

“Some of us, yes. But many of us have become history, dead. We are no longer living amongst the people, but old stories to be forgotten. Thus we grow weak. The giants are but a memory, dying out like ancient Väindålve.”

“Can’t you do anything about it? You don’t want to die here alone, do you?”

“We cannot make people believe in us; it is their own free will.”

“But they are bringing you back to consciousness. I saw a statue of you.”

“That is exactly my point. In their eyes, we are stories. Fiction, false. Children’s stories do not come alive, nor do dead gods.”

“Then is there any hope for you?”

Skishmith sighed deeply.

“The twelve sons of Väinö, myself included, have not been with the world since the age of gods. Perhaps it would be best that it stays that way. It does not matter where we are or who we become in the eyes of man. Time passes differently for immortals, both slow and fast. Mere humans seem to vanish in the blink of an eye, yet the world barely changes. If it is our fate to become history, so be it. Soon all of us will slumber along the mountains, ever to open our eyes.”

Orel couldn’t but feel sorry for the creatures doomed to a slow death of indifference. He hadn’t thought about what it is like to become forgotten, reduced to a mention on a book page. He had to say something to make them feel better, even though it wouldn’t mean much.

“I will remember you,”

A pinch of a smile raised on Skismith’s face.

“Those words warm this old heart of mine. May you travel on pleasant tailwinds, and if you are to meet harsh headwinds, may you find shelter from the people dear.”

“Be thankful, Orel. Rarely does a giant give their blessings for mortals,” Sindri said.

“It reminds me of a similar farewell from my country.” Orel noticed.

“Our father taught it to us. Perhaps he heard it from other gods.”

“If you two are going to talk for any longer, Skismith, you should change your form,” Sindri suggested.

“Oh, you are right. I haven’t used this form for a while.”

Orel watched as Skismith swiftly shrunk until he was the size of a regular human, yet still quite tall for one. He was not surprised anymore about such feats, but it felt different from talking to him when he was enormous.

Some time passed as their conversation dragged on, with each telling their stories. Though Skismith had longer stories from the age of gods, he listened and laughed eagerly to Orel’s adventures of recent times. Sindri paid not much mind, mostly taking a rest on the snow.

After enough sleep, Sindri turned to Orel.

“It may be high time for you to return. Your friends are waiting.”

“I need to return to my forge as well.” Skismith stood up and returned to his original size.

As the giant leaped across the plains, Orel yelled back to him.

“Goodbye, Skismith!”

“Farewell, Orel Eislandr!” Skismith’s voice echoed through the lands between his giant steps.

Orel followed Sindri back to where they had come from. The bridge appeared again from the sky, waiting for the two.

“How long have I been here?” Orel asked.

“The night is coming to an end,”

“Could you drop me near them?”

“I will do my best for a final request.” Sindri stepped on the bridge.

It was the break of dawn, and Orel could already see the sun rising while walking the bridge.

They passed back to the ground, where Orel was surprised by his surroundings. He recognized a sizeable white building as a hospital from the heart crest. He found himself next to the building in a nearby park. Fortunately, no one was around.

He turned to Sindri, as he did not understand.

“Why am I here-”

Sindri had already left along with the bridge.

As there was no one to answer, Orel decided to go inside. “

It must not have been a mistake,” he thought.

As he stepped through the doors, not many waited but the clerk at the counter—some older people waiting for their morning checkup, watching a single tv, or reading some flyers.

He walked to the counter, where the waiting nurse looked up from his computer.

“Excuse me. My friend is supposed to be here,” Orel said.

“Oh, could you tell their name? The nurse asked.

“Tobias Norman,”

“Let’s see. Yes, Mr. Norman came in rough shape, but he’s stable now. He said to let you in. Would you like me to guide you to his room?” The nurse smiled.

“Please do.”

Orel was escorted to the room. There were a couple of beds laid next to each other on each side of the room. He noticed Andras sitting next to one of the beds but was horrified as he saw Norman wrapped in bandages like a mummy. He ran to the bed, where Andras woke up, but Norman was still fast asleep. Andras was thrilled to see Orel and was ready to hug him on the spot.

“Oh, Orel! You’re back!” Andras was pleasantly surprised.

“Hush!” The nurse shushed before leaving the room.

“What happened?” Orel asked.

“We fought with the other mage. He was a real piece of work. Norman got the worst of it, but the doctor said he would heal alright.” Andras explained.

“How long would he need to stay here for?”

“They said a month until he would heal the worst burns, then he could go home,”

“This is my fault.” Orel blamed himself.

“He chose to stay behind and fight. It was his choice.” Andras reassured.

“My family can take care of him. It is the least I can do.”

“That is not necessary.” A voice answered from the door.

Orel turned over and saw a neatly dressed woman in a dark suit and a dark blue shirt, sporting a neatly parted set of chestnut hair on her head. Her face was stone, grave, and lean, not giving away any emotion.

“Mistress Annabella sent me here to retrieve mister Tobias after hearing from his accident. I shall return him home immediately. It has been three years already.”

“Stand back, Shauna.” Norman woke up.

It was not precisely miraculous, yet Andras and Orel could not hold their smiles to see him awake. Their happy reunion was still being disturbed by the woman.

“You need to say those words to mistress Anabella yourself, mister Tobias,” Shauna said.

“Then why did she not come here herself if she is so meticulously caring for me?” Norman crossed his eyes.

“She is thoroughly busy holding the estate and preserving connections to other families,”

“And I am deeply sorry that I am still thoroughly busy with my research, and my adventuring party has me working twice as hard.”

“What a low excuse. We will make sure you will resign from it, provided that it is even fully licensed.”

“Which is not in your ability to confirm, so go back to the manor so that someone higher up can check it,” Norman smirked.

“I shall. If that fact is found to be faulty, you shall be brought back. Best of luck with your recovery.” Shauna left the room.

“Best of luck with your interrupted holiday,” Norman shouted back.

“Who was that?” Orel asked.

“One of my wife's butlers.”

“You are married?!” Andras and Orel were surprised.

“It was a planned marriage between families. They probably want me back to make an heir with the slightest of excuse.”

“Have you ever met?” Orel asked.

“At the wedding, yes, but both of us are very busy with our work. Perhaps our parents have pressured her to get a baby. No offense to her, but I want my research done before settling down.”

“Would not have figured you for a married man.” Andras was baffled.

“What was that talk about an adventuring party?” Orel asked.

“Oh, that? Voyagers is not a formal party, but the Guild is an international adventuring organization. A group can form adventuring parties, where the leader holds legal responsibilities for the entire group, but they will also get access to places and jobs. It basically manages part-time workers and employs them to their associated businesses.”

“But aren’t they going to take you back once they check that we aren’t a real party?” Orel asked.

“yeah...About that. Would you like to do a favor?” Norman smiled nervously.

“You want me to start a party.”

“I want you to start a party.”

“I don’t know if I have money to pay for the registration fee, which I presume there is.” Orel shrugged.

“Don’t worry. I’ll pay. I’ll just use some of my family’s money.”

“Don’t they get mad?” Andras asked.

“I’ll say they are for the hospital fees.”

“Are you sure they will take us?” Orel asked.

“Hmmm. Could you give me a paper and a pen?”

Orel was unsure if Norman could even hold a pen, and it did seem challenging, but he wrote something on the paper before folding it and giving it back to Orel.

“They should have an office in the capital. Please show this to the accountant when signing, and they will surely accept.”

“But what about you?” Orel asked.

“I’ll need to stay here, but you need to get that done as soon as possible. Once you have done that, go back home. Wait for me there.”

Orel nodded but stayed silent. The room went silent except for the air conditioning.

“I was not expecting us to see you like this.” Orel looked at Norman’s wounds.

“Neither did I. Oh, that’s right. What happened to you? Did you find the fox?” Norman asked.

“I found it,”

“And?”

“It took me to Väinölä.”

“So it was the guide.” Norman had suspected.

“I did see some weird lights in the sky,” Andras said.

“Well, how was it?”

“I don’t know where to begin...Oh, that’s right.” Orel opened his backpack.

“I picked up some snow from there.” Orel handed the bottle to Norman.

The glass had frosted from the inside, but you could see a small snowball. Norman felt a little awkward holding it as it was pretty cold. The bandages all over his hands were like thick gloves.

“It’s not just snow, that’s for sure. I guess we don’t need to come back anymore?” Norman asked.

“Yeah, sorry that you guys didn’t get to see it.”

“It would have been nice, but I can’t complain anymore,” Andras said.

“I guess. Hey, I know you would have a lot to tell about it, so how about you tell me more when I return to your place? You’ll have plenty of time to tell it to your family.” Norman handed the glass back.

“Sure.” Orel accepted.

“So, do we get going?” Andras stretched from his seat.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Orel walked off. “See you soon!”

“Right back at ya!”

The door closed, and Norman was left in the room. A moment of silence passed until Norman looked over to the next bed with a sheet covering the view. A silhouette stood with its back to Norman, coming out of its hiding. Norman already knew what this meant.

“I am sorry for overhearing your conversation, master Tobias.” The silhouette said with a distorted voice.

“Sure you are. No use in telling my parents. It will be too late by then.”

“Only if they sign in time.”

“If you touch them in any way, I’ll call off the marriage.”

“Your family would not like that.”

“I don’t give a damn. Tell those old wrinkled raisins that they will get their grandkids once I am done with my research. Until then, they can shake in their boots all they want.”

The shadow receded to nothingness. Norman sighed with relief but held a grudgeful face.

“Who am I kidding? This is all my fault. If Lisa were still here, I would not be in this mess...”

Orel And Andras took the next train back and arrived at the train station. They roamed the streets, even passing their favorite restaurant, but not stopping for this time. Orel took out his phone and searched where the business was.

After some searching, Orel and Andras located the office at the port of Alanland, Helsburg. It was not especially striking in any way from the outside - A brown bricked two-story building with shutters shut in most windows and Guild’s name in a bronze slate on top of the doors. They entered, and even the insides were quite similar to a bank. There is an orange marble floor, grey granite walls, and many other people waiting for three registers with employees dressed in white and red uniforms. They went in line and, after fifteen minutes, were next up.

A slightly tired employee looked at the two through her narrow eyeglasses for a moment.

“Registration?” She asked.

“How did you know?”

“You aren’t tough enough, well, at least you.” The accountant smirked and glanced at Andras.

“Go to room four and fill out this form. Next!” She rang the bell next to her.

Opening the door revealed a pair of chairs across a square table and another employee waiting on his computer across it. The room was relatively small, but the soft beige pads on the walls added a nice touch, though it did not help much with the dead atmosphere.

“Please sit down.” The male accountant asked.

Orel and Andras did as ordered.

“Please fill out the form while you are at it.”

Orel took time to fill out the multiple paged application with the pen provided, having fillable fields from accepting danger, amount of, and names of members and occupations to social security number and sign to the end with today’s date. This was one of the things Orel would instead not do, as how much it caused him a headache, but he tried his best to endure it.

“Here.”

“Alright,” The accountant stretched his hand.

He read through the parts and wrote something to the computer.

“Let’s see—guild name: Voyagers. Leader: Orel Aislander-”

“It’s Eislandr.”

The accountant took a sinister look at Orel before correcting himself.

“Your application cannot be accepted.”

“What?” Orel raised his eyebrow.

“Your occupations do not suffice, and you are missing a member's signature.” The accountant pointed out.

“Oh, we have something for that,”

He took out the note Norman handed to him and stretched it over to the accountant. The accountant was not keen or interested in what these two would ever have to correct it but took the note just in case.

“There is not much a single piece of paper can do-” The accountant was dubious about the note. He folded it open and read it for a moment.

Suddenly his eyes were about to fall off. He looked at the paper again, frantically took out his phone, and called someone.

“Sir, there is a party that would interest you.”

A lean senior employee with a pair of round eyeglasses came inside the room soon. After he took a look at the note, he was almost as surprised as the last.

“We are more than welcome to sign your party to our rankings, but we should talk about this in a room that fits your standards.” The senior employee rubbed his hands.

The employee escorted them to a different room with luxurious couches, a mahogany office table, cabinets filled with trophies, and an eastern carpet to dampen their steps. The employee sat in his tall armchair at the end behind two large windows and welcomed Orel and Andras to sit on the couches. Orel was not sure what was in the note, but he had a suspicion that there was a misunderstanding. Andras enjoyed the treatment and the soft couches, not minding the situation at all.

“As the humble manager of this establishment, I, Hannes Parameum, am most grateful that a member of such a noble family wants to join our organization. Oh, please let me share a bottle of champagne with you.” The balding manager stood up from his chair to search his cabinet for glasses.

“Please forgive my subordinate for such rude behavior. We have so many lower-grade adventurers applications that sometimes we almost miss your type of people.”

He offered Orel and Andras a glass, which Andras took and drank straight away with a sigh of relief following it while Orel kept it uncomfortably in his hand.

The man walked back to his chair. “What brings us such a reason for celebration? Is there a specific reason for your party to be established?”

“Personal reasons,”

“Very well. Hmmm, an Eislandr, huh. We had another party with two Eislandrs before.” Hannes looked at the form.

“It must be my father and uncle.”

“Must run in the family.” Hannes smiled with as much authenticity as a fine art piece in a thrift shop.

“Where is Sir Tobias, if I may ask?” He continued looking at the application.

“He is recovering from an accident,”

“What a shame! Send him my best regards. It is so regrettable for such a thing to happen.”

“I will be sure that he receives them.” Orel took a small sip of his glass.

“Your application is as good as accepted, but we would be joyful if you would use our services and accept jobs from us when needed. Usually, we would assign a starting party of our skill level to E rank, but in your case, you will start at C rank.”

“What does that mean?” Orel asked.

“You mean the ranking? Each rank gets job offers to a certain magnitude of your chosen field of work, and by completing them or raising your status, you can advance to higher ranks. We evaluate your status by measuring the skills and abilities of each member. Besides better jobs, higher ranks are given special permissions and access to information.”

“What are the ranks?”

“They are alphabetical from E to A, and beyond that, there are some special ranks,” Hannes explained. “Oh, don’t be discouraged. I can assure you that your party can easily climb to higher ranks.”

“I see.” Orel took another sip.”But shouldn’t we be tested or something?”

“We do not test our applicants. We merely require you to portray your skills one way or another. For example, we will evaluate your possible diplomas and previous and future job experience. All you need to do is to wait for me to find my stamp.”

He took a stamping tool out of his drawer, dampened it with ink, and pressed it straight to the form. After waiting for it to dry, Hannes jumped out of his chair and came towards Orel, smiling his customer service smile all the way.

He presented the paper. It had the members’ signatures: a slightly informal sign of Orel, the crude marks of Andras, and the very finely written signature of Norman, with the official agreement of the Hannes on the corner. Guild’s seal was pressed on with red ink. The symbol was a sharp and lean red star. Around it was a dozen smaller stars inside a circle surrounded by firey marks.

“We are expecting great things from the Voyagers, Orel Eislandr.” Hannes stretched his hand.

“You will not be disappointed.” Orel shook his hand, or instead, Hannes shook it violently, and Orel tried to hang on.

“You too, sir.” Hannes wanted to shake with Andras.

“Alright,” Hannes said.

Andras pressed his hand a little too hard, but Hannes could keep his composure.

“Good day to you!” Hannes sent them off while mending his hand.

The two left the office and went out to the streets, searching the port.

Andras walked next to Orel with a sheepish expression.

“Could we buy some of that champagne thing?”

“It’s painfully costly. Besides, it’s not a thing to be drunk casually.”

“Could we buy some for celebration for when Norman gets back?”

“That’s not such a bad idea.”

“Let’s get some now!”

“If we find a store...” Orel was not that interested in it.

After visiting the local liquor store, they returned to the island, where Orel’s home waited for them to barge in.

“I’m back.” Orel opened the door.

It was noon, meaning only Ymir was there, sitting on her rocking chair with a newspaper.

“Oh, Orel.” Ymir put down the paper. “Others are still at work.”

Suffling to the kitchen to brew some tea, Ymir hummed excitedly. Orel put down his clothes and backpack before going to the kitchen.

“Well, how did it go?” Ymir put down the cups.

Orel and Andras sat at the dinner table.

“We participated in a competition where we had to catch a magical fox, and once I found it, it took me to Väinölä.”

“Sounds that it was not smooth sailing.”

“I got there, but Norman and Andras had to stay back.”

“That’s a shame, but at least you could visit it. Just remember to be together next time.” Ymir smiled.

“Where is your other friend, that Norman?” Ymir poured the tea.

“He had to go to a hospital but said that he would be dismissed soon enough,”

“Then we better get ready for when he gets back.” Ymir sipped her tea.

“We already bought champagne.” Andras smiled.

“That’s a good start.” Ymir chucked to herself.

Time passed to afternoon, and Tuja came in from the door, sweating from the beginnings of summer heat.

“Such a hot day already this time of the year.” Tuja swept her forehead.

“Orel has returned,” Ymir told Tuja, having returned to reading the newspaper.

“Really?”

“I sent them to chop some firewood,”

“Alright, I’ll just ask once they get back.”

“Turn on the tv. The news is starting.”

“Aren’t you reading the news?”

“I’m doing the crosswords,”

“Fine.” Tuja searched for the remote.

The tv turned on and was already on the right channel.

“Turn it up.” Ymir stayed in her chair.

“-And foreign news: The revival of Sawmid’s famous firefox festival in Alanland was abruptly stopped yesterday by the local police and fire department after several participants had been injured in the hunt. Witnesses report that some participants had caused fires and fought other participants, fortunately injuring only a few. One body has been found dead from slicing and is being investigated as a homicide. Several hunters report that the head supporter of the event, the Duke of Clarent, Daniel Medrawd, had attacked them by blinding them, and others report both mysterious figures among a so-called burning man. Some hunters are still missing and presumed dead.”

“Are you hearing this?” Tuja leaned over.

“-The local police suspect fraud and Daniel Medrawd is being searched nationally after going missing that night, suspected to have run away to his homeland along with the missing prize money. The investigation of the incident is still underway, but many organizers have already faced criminal charges. More information on our websites. Now, Meri, could you tell us the weather?”

“Didn’t Orel visit that town?” Tuja remembered the name.

“Yep, he already told me. He was in that competition.”

“What?!”

Orel stopped his ax before hitting the tree on a stump. It was near the house where they further cut trees for firewood. They had made good progress, but Andras was way more productive in the activity, though he needed to be gentle not to break the stump the logs were also standing on.

Andras looked over in confusion. Orel stopped in motion, almost as if awoken from a nightmare.

“Is something wrong?” He asked while chopping.

“I just had a bad feeling.” Orel shivered.

“Is there an enemy?”

“No, something far worse. I have witnessed this feeling many times. “.

“Do we need to hide?”

“There is nowhere to hide.”

Soon, a thundering yet scaringly familiar sound echoed from the cabin. A different beast was approaching, angrier than a bear, fiercer than a mother cat. While Andras could not help but ponder what it was, Orel could already tell. He may survive an encounter with a mage, but he was unsure if he was about to endure his mother. Their fate had been sealed.