Winter crept onto the plains like a stalking predator; there were very few signs of its approach, before it pounced on the landscape with full ferocity.

Many of the animals we had been hunting disappeared. The tribesmen said they didn’t migrate South, as I had assumed, but actually went somewhere further East. I made a note to investigate that in the future, although the Jora tribe said the open plains in that direction were full of so many terrifying monsters that no human could possibly cross them.

There were no more fruits on the trees and very few tubers and edible roots and grains in the surrounding areas. The Oko and Imm tribes had already started making treks up to the freezing tundra, where they buried many fresh kills in their marked locations. We were sure most of them would be dug up by hungry monsters, but enough should be available for us to use in a pinch. Besides, keeping the monsters away from our camp down here was worth sacrificing a little meat.

The land around the river didn’t get much colder than it had been in the fall, but the signs of the winter were everywhere. Many trees lay bare and naked, the days were shorter, and even the River Teg seemed lethargic. As if it was hugging the earth for warmth on the chilly evenings when your breath turns white and your extremities become numb until the fire lets you feel them again.

The tribesmen told me winter wasn’t as scary for them now that they had access to fire magic. The biggest issue they’d had to deal with during the winter hadn’t been the lack of stuff to forage and hunt, but the lack of time in which it was possible for them to leave the safety of their camps. Since the days were shorter, and their clothes weren’t very thick, many people would die to what I could only assume was pneumonia or frostbite, while they were heading out further and further searching for sparser and sparser sources of food.

But now, thanks to fire magic, they could whip up a fire as soon as they felt cold, and some hunting parties had even been out for a couple of days, which was something they could not do without fire magic.

Magic had, in general, made the lives of the tribesmen much better. By this point, a lot of adults had moved onto motion magic, and were using magic hands to help with daily chores and tasks. As I walked through the camp, I saw a woman nursing a baby in one hand while stopping a toddler from running away with a magic hand. A couple of teenagers were sitting behind a tent, trying to see who could slingshot a pebble the farthest with their magic hands. I even saw an old man drawing an embarrassing mural of an elf that looked just like me, using two magic hands in addition to his own in order to finish more quickly.

I walked up to elder Kezler, and tapped him on the head. I put my hands on my waists, and gave him an exasperated look. He said he was just trying to honor me for all I had done, at which point I told him the humans had worked had to achieve their own progress, and that he should make a mural of the entire encampment, if he had so much free time on his hands. He bowed his head and said that was a great idea. He grabbed elders Sommi, Anki, and even Priest Mal, and had them start work on this project. I shook my head. Had all of them been working on this thing? Man, these people needed a hobby. Maybe I should make them do more magic exercises if they had so much energy to spare?

The food stores were holding up, the magic lessons were going well, and the tribesmen looked set to survive the winter more easily than ever before. Even the farms and herded monsters were doing well, which was surprising given the cold. Thankfully, the plants were used to the temperature changes because they naturally grew around here, and the herded monsters didn’t seem to be of the migratory type. The grass around here didn’t completely disappear with the cold, although I was sure they’d overgraze the whole place if we kept them locked down to such a small area for a long period of time. We’d have to think of a better solution for next year; assuming, that is, that this arrangement would be repeated for the next year.

I had already begun talking to the elders to see if they wanted to turn this place into a permanent settlement. They were too reluctant to leave their own territories.

“The graves of our ancestors are too far away from here,” said elder Lipo.

“Our traditional food is not available here,” said elder Brol.

“And this land is not as plentiful during the summer,” said elder Konri. “That is why our tribe goes further North after the winter.”

I bit my lips. It was obvious the only thing keeping them here was me. I had already noticed some disagreements forming between the tribes when I wasn’t around. The stigma around the ‘dishonored’ tribes hadn’t vanished, and for their part, the ‘dishonored’ tribes weren’t too happy with the other tribes either. These tribes had lost many of their elders, which meant their best magicians and influential personalities had disappeared overnight. The Jora tribe in particular was struggling to make things work with just Priest Mal. For some reason, they were refusing to elevate anyone else to the position of priest, since that was something that could only happen at the summer solstice festival at Bek Tepe.

“But the farms will be ready by the spring,” I said. “A reliable source of food, which will only get better as time goes on, is here, on your fingertips. Is that not worth a little sacrifice?”

The elders frowned and discussed among themselves.

“If that is your advice,” said elder Konri, “then we will follow it, Teacher.”

“No, I don’t want you to follow it because of me. Follow it because it makes sense. And because it gives you a stable future, even after I’m gone.”

Silence.

“After you’re gone, Teacher?” asked elder Kezler.

“Of course,” I said. “Nothing lasts forever. There must be a time when I leave you. Who knows when that will be. In a year. Or ten. Or maybe after your grandchildren have crept into their graves. I don’t know. All I know is that the day will come when I will no longer be with you.

“There is a reason I have not been teaching everyone magic at every level, and it isn’t only to save me some time. It’s because I wanted all of you to be able to pass on your magic, to create new spells, make the whole system your own. I do not want to make the same mistake I made with the elfin Jora tribe, the tribe I called my family when I first came to this world. I do not want you to meet your end because I am gone. No, I will not let that happen. Not again! Not again.”

My sappy speech made them start praising me again, but this time, I couldn’t stop them. I had to let them get it out of their system, before we could start making some progress. We decided the tribes could go back to their homelands as long as they left some people behind to maintain this settlement. Once the farms were ready, and everybody had improved their magic to a reasonable level, this place could run with less hands on deck. It all depended on how well we dealt with this winter and judging by how well we were doing so far, I was quite hopeful.

“Teacher, I have to say, that medical magic spell that Kelser was using was the most amazing thing I have ever seen,” said elder Sommi. “I was skeptical when I first heard you describe it, but it really did make childbirth much easier on the mother. If we could get more women to learn the spell and understand its benefits, we could save many lives!”

“Teacher, can you show me that motion magic spell again after this meeting? I think I was on the verge of a breakthrough when you showed it to me this morning!” said elder Brol. “I never expected that I could run faster by using wind magic in front of my body, rather than behind it! Only you could think of something like that, Teacher.”

I scratched my chin and told the elders I’d follow up with them in the morning. It was getting really late, and the nights were unbearably cold by this time of the season. The worst part, however, was the scene I could see out of the corner of my eye.

A clear sky dotted with stars. The stars strung like pearls between two large circles. A full, silver moon, bright and mesmerizing. An iridescent red star, pulsing like a heart. I did not like being awake on nights like these. I was itching for the comfort of unconsciousness. Hoping to forget what felt like two massive eyes staring down at me like I was part of a culture of bacteria on a petri dish under a microscope.

Someone yelled. I broke out of my thoughts. Elder Cota was pointing behind me. Over my head. I turned.

A streak of golden light whizzed through the air, searing an arc across the sky as it descended from the heavens and disappeared into the horizon. A loud, low rumbling reverberated across the landscape. A baby began crying in the camp. I stood up and the elders started shouting orders to the hunters on standby.

I looked back up at the moon and red star. I stared at them as if they would answer my questions. They remained silent, even as my surroundings erupted into a cacophonous frenzy.