The shrill echo of the wind waving through the trees was a sore upon a man’s mind. One couldn’t help but feel dread as that ominous noise blared again and again, resting for nary a moment. Civilisation’s lone mark was what passed for a road, bumpy and drenched in muddy water.

Nature’s splendor, my ass..

Sanctullator peeked out of the carriage’s windows. Alas, gracing the edge of the frigid glass for no longer than an eyeblink was enough to make him wince. Western Lokahn had welcomed him like it had all the other fools who made the mistake of setting foot here. Nothing but cold in every corner, nothing but danger around every tree.

“Stefan, what is the matter?”

The general’s eyes shot towards the white mustache on the other end of the carriage. Oh, look who’s woken up… “What? Haven’t you noticed the cold as well? Even in here it’s a pain in the ass, let alone how it’ll be once we’re out this sodding cabin.”

A groggy breath left Gallie’s nose, rustling the hairs on his upper lip. “Perhaps you should have put on some extra clothes then, Stefan. I find the temperature agreeable. Not the best, but agreeable.”

Sanctullator folded his arms. “Not everyone grew up in the mountains, Gallie.”

“True, true. But still, even someone who lived by a warm coast all their lives should know about that little trick. Especially you of all people.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. No need to keep repeating yourself.” Sanctullator turned his head a few degrees. Bastard… “Anyway, how long until we arrive at our destination, exactly? We’ve been in this carriage for a while now.”

Gallie shrugged. “I’m not sure. Whitesteam shouldn’t be much further from here, but it’s difficult to tell how much more ground we have to cover before we’re there.”

Both men were then rudely thrown out of their conversation, almost bumping their heads against the ceiling of the carriage. “Justitia almighty...”

“Is it too much to ask for some decent roads? Ugh, unbelievable...” Sanctullator corrected his posture. “Hey, Gallie. What about that contact you said was waiting for us over there? Is there anything special we need to know?”

The mustachioed general rubbed his aching head. “Urgh… well, I suppose it warrants repeating. She is but an ordinary Lokahnian woman, utterly fed up with the dragon cult running amok. Her efforts have been instrumental in wiping out Whitestream’s cultists. Believe me when I say she is a cunning warrior.“

Sanctullator laid a hand on his bearded chin. “Is she related to a certain captain by any chance?”

“No, as I said she is but an ordinary woman turned warrior. Wait, that reminds me actually, Bellona said she would head out towards Whitestream as well.”

Stefan’s eyes flew wide open. “Say that again?!” he said, holding onto the bench with both arms.

“Calm down, will you? I told her about our plans, and she was impressed enough by them to get back into the thick of the conflict. She is one of the best we have. Surely you wouldn’t say no to her presence?”

Sanctullator slouched into his seat. “Fine, fine...”

Accompanied by the clacking of hooves and the rolling of the wheels across the weary old country road, the two generals kept their eye on the task at hand. Bumpy roads and noisy people weren’t even a footnote compared to what must be done. The wind’s echo returned. Whitestream drew near.

* * *

An hour later, dirt turned to stone. Whitestream’s walls blocked the cold slightly, albeit very slightly. Alas, the lack of wind and cold was more than compensated by the noxious atmosphere holding sway over the city. The stench of burning flesh, without a doubt; experience told Sanctullator that much.

“Ugh, what in the name of… What is this smell? Is this some local funeral ritual I’ve never heard of?” The general threw the carriage door open, even as they had yet to come to a stop. The coachman spoke up.

“General, could you close the door again? You are making it difficult for my horses to-”

“Tell me where that smell is coming from then! It’s absolutely vile!” yelled Sanctullator. Gallie tried to pull him back into the cabin, but no dice.

“That’s just the beast we’re burning, sir.”

One of the city guards standing beside the small road gave the general a blank stare, as if a statue had come to life. Despite protests from his brothers in arms, neither his feet nor his arms budged; whatever consequence for insolence he was aware of evidently meant little. Recognising that Sanctullator wasn’t going to give in anytime soon, the coachmen had his horses stop. The general took the opportunity to leap off the carriage, onto the slippery stones below.

“Beast? One of the dragons, I take it?”

The guard nodded. “Yes, sir. You can see it for yourself.” In a static manner, the guard pointed his spear towards the plumes rising from deeper within the city. “It was a recent catch, sir. About a day ago.”

Sanctullator shrugged. “Alright then, I’ll go and see it for myself,” he said, one foot forwards , when the white mustache ordered him to stop.

“Wait a minute, Stefan. Were you not complaining about the cold not too ago?”

“No cold is going to stop me from seeing a plan gone right, Gallie,” Sanctullator replied. “Never has, never will. Now if you excuse me...”

Without any regard for procedure, Sanctullator made his way down the street, Gallie and a few guards following far behind. Some of Whitestream’s citizens watched on from their windows all the while the generals were gracing their streets. Other civilians put their chores on hold, town guards standing between them and the rest of the street.

The ash burned upon Sanctullator’s tongue as he turned the corner. What met his eye was the sight of a monstrous shape disintegrating in a sea of red, with there around a large group watching on as two women and a dozen men were throwing wood into the conflagration. Sanctullator drew near, mouth slightly open.

“Oh, wow...”

The civilians cleared the way for him; one of the women chucking wood craned her head around, and put her hand up.

“Gruesome work, isn’t it?” she said.

Sanctullator scoffed. “Pfft. I’ve seen worse. Much, much worse.”

The woman shook her head. “Perhaps you’ve lost your innocence. That’s more than can be said for ordinary folks like me. Even after all this time, I can’t help but be a little uncomfortable by this.” She stepped away from the fire to shake Sanctullator’s hand. A red bandana ran across her forehead, damming in her brown hairs. Her hazel eyes were a mixture of unease and seriousness. The general had seen it under his own men many times. In response, the corners of his lips ticked up a little.

“And yet, you do it anyway.”

“I have no choice in the matter. Nobody would protect our homes and livelyhoods if we didn’t do these things. And as much as it pains me to keep at it, it is what life demands of us.“ The woman paused to bow her head slightly, before giving Sanctullator a hand. “Heidi Goodsprings is my name. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The general accepted her hand. “My name is Stefan Sanctullator. You are the one who has been running the counter-insurgency here, I take it?” he said, biting his cheeks. Justitia almighty, she’s not what I had imagined in the slightest…

Heidi smiled. “That is correct. Whitestream’s People’s Militia, at your service. We’ve been at it for several months now, arresting and taking out local cultist cells, preventing youngsters from falling into their grasp, that sort of thing. But this? I never imagined things going this far.”

She gestured towards the raging fire. The blackened shape was gradually disintegrating into a fine dust. Once upon a time, it was an ordinary human much like those gawking by the flames. One sharing the same language, the same culture, the same history, only to be cast out into the abyss, never to be seen again.

Sanctullator gazed into the raging inferno, a smug smile resting on his face. “Did you take down a dragon on your own?” Heidi let out a satisfied sigh.

“Even now that I look at it, it’s difficult to believe. But yes, we’ve managed to stop its rampage. It tried to attack one of the towns nearby. Thankfully, with quick thinking from citizens and soldiers alike, we took it down. It was hard work, and we’ve lost a few of our own, but we did it.”

The brown-bearded general folded his arms, eyes affixed into the inferno. “That does beg the question, did it fall dead here, or did you drag it all the way from the fields into the city?”

Heidi tugged on her bandana slightly. “Oh, yes. Some of the townsfolk wanted to see it burn, so we obliged. It was hard work, but if it makes my people happy, I don’t mind.” Sanctullator raised his shoulders.

“What a waste of time.”

“There you are,” Gallie cut in from behind. “My apologies, Heidi, but I got caught up on the road just now.” Oh, I’m sure you got ‘caught up’ alright, you bastard. Always an excuse, isn't there? “Have you introduced yourselves yet?”

“Why yes we have,” Heidi replied, “we were getting started on what lies right before you. This dragon tried to kill our people, and paid the price for it.”

Gallie laughed. “Did I not tell you she was amazing, Sanctullator? With upstanding citizens such as this, we have what it takes to put an end to this lunacy, as Justitia wishes.”

Sadly for the old man, Sanctullator was not so easily convinced. “I’m afraid one dragon alone isn’t going to cut it. Those monsters will eventually try to push out in full force. If one dragon was a challenge, try a hundred of them,” he said. Gallie wasn’t happy to hear it.

“Stefan, are you trying to minimize this great achievement? Think, we can make those bastards bleed, provided we work together-”

“The fur-face’s right, you know.”

Gallie was abruptly cut off by that voice. That voice akin to a harpy’s screech, one Sanctullator detested with every last drop of blood in his body. A few feet-taps later, that gruesome voice again animated the hairs in his neck, the general suppressing it as best he could, lest the eagle-eyed witch of Lokahn turned her eyes upon him.

“Look, I’m not bad-mouthing anyone here, but it is what it is, isn’t it? You’ll need more than motivation to take something as big as that down with good weaponry, let alone a ragtag militia. And that’s me speaking from experience, there.”

Heidi sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid it was a lot of luck that brought this one down. It hasn’t been the first attack either, just the first one we could stop,” she said, lowering her head. “We’ve lost far too many already...”

Bellona patted her on the shoulder. “No need to worry, sister. Provided that we all work hard, we can crush this mess for good. Besides, I know all the tricks to fighting these abominations.” She proceeded to stretch out the collar of her uniform. The golden stripes shone fierce, even with the dreary shroud covering the skies. Sanctullator’s eyes dawdled off towards a nearby wall.

Oh, brag about your rank, you stupid bitch. It’s not like there’s two generals standing right next to you, not at all.

The hazel eyes met the captain headon. “Please, don’t say that just to cheer me up. I want to believe it more than anyone. I still remember the days before the Justitians, when those robber barons were ruling over Whitestream. Ever since getting a taste of life without that, I never once dreamed of returning to those terrible days.”

Sanctullator smiled. ”Not on my watch.”

“Not on our watch,” Gallie said.

Bellona nodded. “As I said. Well then, shall we discuss how best to combat the enemy somewhere inside? It’s cold.”

All three agreed, and headed off to the small court in the north of the city. As dusk approached, the civilians too vacated the streets, leaving the remainder of the dragon to burn silently throughout the night. Whatever would happen these next few months, regardless of the choices the Justitian and Draconist leaders made, it wouldn’t be pretty.

And so, night fell upon Whitestream. An eerie calm held sway all across the region. From farmland to town, to the lakes and rivers nearby, all lay dormant as the darkened clouds above began to bleed. At the Summer Gate of Whitestream, a guardsman peered up in surprise as he noticed something approaching from the darkness, straight onto his outstretched hand. It was a snowflake.