There was a battle, combatants slashing and hacking at each other as far as the eye could see, and seemingly no end to the death. The dominating colours were red and grey, with a few nuances. No flags or banners in sight, there was only chaos, each man fending for himself. In the centre of this gigantic free-for-all, a single entity was wreaking havoc.

It had two sizable curved horns and giant bat-like wings on its back. Each had a hand formed shape, with a single long and sharp claw serving as thumb, which it used to tear apart the men unfortunate enough to come into range. A long tail which had a dangerously looking pike at its end sometimes reached out and impaled a warrior.

But the most terrifying thing was the flames that surrounded it. It was literally on fire and each time it touched or grazed a man, he immediately erupted in unnatural devouring flames, leaving him consumed in a matter of seconds. The creature’s crimson suddenly fell on him, and a grin spread on its mouth exposing its sharp fangs.

You’re back? It asked with a deep and reverberating voice. Then it narrowed its eyes, the fighters around it all disappearing without a trace, leaving it floating alone in a dark fog. No, not yet. You have a passenger. Or rather, you are the passenger. Intriguing.

Loïck abruptly opened his eyes and sat up, shaking the snow off that had accumulated on him. He quickly looked around, and then remembered. He had found a small cliff, and hid under it.

The cliff had protected him against the worst but he was still relieved that he had survived. Sir David had told him stories about men that went to sleep in a snowstorm and never woke up. The late knight liked to tell ghost stories over the camp fire.

Loïck had just been in the middle of one of those stories, he thought and shuddered.

His dream suddenly came back vividly. He remembered the creature’s unsettling and merciless eyes that had seemed to look directly at him. Putting his head in his hands, he then noticed something strange. The wound that Merrill had inflicted him in the shoulder didn’t cause him pain anymore.

He carefully slipped his hand under the fur he had used as bandage, and frowned confusedly when he didn’t feel anything painful. How much time had actually passed since his encounter with the... undead?

The last thing he could remember was that he was walking aimlessly around in the snowstorm, hoping to stumble upon another cave... Preferably one without living corpses. He had instead found the cliff, and been too exhausted to continue the search. Wait, maybe the living corpse was a dream too? That would make much more sense than an actual undead.

His wrist looked fine, and didn’t hurt when he passed his fingers over its skin. So it was a dream after all? But how to explain the healed shoulder wound?

This was beyond strange, but not unwelcomed. His head was slightly aching though, but he guessed that it was because of thirst. He was quite hungry too, like he hadn’t eaten anything in days. It made him reminisce the time where his father had deprived him of food for several days, all because he had left with an expensive horse by himself. At the time, his father had thought his beatings were inefficient and had tried resorting to other methods.

He stood up, and he subconsciously tightened the skins around him. He didn’t feel cold though. Why didn’t he feel cold? He then remembered the warmth that had spread through him from the skeleton’s grip. He became livid, as he realised that it was probably real then.

The corpse had somehow healed his wound and made him immune to the cold? Why would it do that? He began slightly worrying, as there had to be a cost. Nobody gave anything for free. There was no use racking his brain over it, he wouldn’t get any answers that way.

Until he found out why and maybe how, he simply welcomed it. Not feeling cold was probably the best thing that had happened to him since... Rose? How he missed her enlace... The nights they had spent together. He was still very split regarding his feelings for her. But he knew one thing for sure: he missed having her around.

He began walking. The army would probably assume him dead after a few days without news, which was the normal course of action after all. A faint smile appeared on his face. That would essentially make him a free man. He could return to Rose, and then the dukedoms, and to his brother and mother. And his detestable father too. But even he couldn’t possibly ruin the joy of seeing his mother and brother again. It had been too long.

The snow had long stopped falling, yet the wind was persistent. He was able to feel that it was cold, that the snow was freezing. He himself didn’t feel cold however; it was like there was a fire burning inside his body which kept him warm.

He continued walking, climbing cliffs and trying to circle around the peaks rather than climbing over them. As the hours passed, he began having pains in the back. Not as bad as his constant headache, but still very irritating. He ignored it, and moved on.

Loïck had been walking for long hours, trying to cover as much distance as possible. He had used the sun too establish a vague course, and was walking south. It wasn’t very precise, maybe he was walking a little too much to the East or West, but that was okay. At least he knew that he would eventually reach something civilized, unless he died of hunger before.

The worst part was that even though he might cross some paths leading somewhere, he wouldn’t know. The snow was still covering the landscape. He sometimes looked at the peaks and cliffs with suspicion, wary of potential ambushes. He felt very vulnerable out there, without a weapon.

He had walked for so long, yet he didn’t even feel tired, he noticed with amazement. Maybe that was another effect of his encounter with the skeleton? His headache however, was getting worse. It was throbbing in his forehead, even distracting him from thinking clearly at times.

But that wasn’t the only pain he had noticed growing lately. There was also something bothering him in his shoulder blades, and lower back. He had always taken pride in being the most pain-tolerant amongst his friends as he grew up, but this was beginning to pile up.

His thoughts were interrupted when he reached the top of the smaller hill and mounted a rock not far from the peak of the mountains. The view was magnificent, with huge white pine forests climbing up and down the mountains. Then there was a large lake, and even more mountains beyond that.

Hope swelled up in him when he saw the thin column of smoke that arose from a modest village situated at the shore of the frozen lake.

Loïck began running down the mountain, but quickly had to stop to not risk hurting himself. The mountain was quite abrupt some places, and the slippery snow didn’t make it any easier. He calmed himself and took his time, carefully climbing down.

He began walking around the lake, not daring to walk directly over it. That would be a foolish risk to take, when there was another safer though longer path along the shore.

The sun was high in the sky, shining through a few clouds. From far away, Loïck noticed two small figures playing in the snow, engaged in a hefty snowball fight. He smiled. He had fought quite a few of those too. The two children soon saw him, and hastily ran back to their village as fast as their small legs could carry them through the deep snow.

Loïck relaxed and strolled towards them in a steady but slow pace. He didn’t want to be perceived as a threat to these people. As he approached, he saw a tall and muscular man come out of one of the huts. He came marching towards him, but to Loïck’s surprise, he didn’t see any caution or fear on the man’s face. It was neutral, with a light pondering frown. It was like he didn’t perceive him as a threat at all.

The man had dark locks tied into a ponytail, and a beard. He didn’t look like a northerner.

“Hello!” Loïck shouted to him and raised his hands in plain sight. “I don’t wish you any harm.”

“I certainly hope that is true.” The man responded in a deep voice.

“It is, I swear! I would never attack honest hard-working people. I am part of the Talian army sent to take care of the northern savages, to protect citizens such as you!”

“Is that so?” The man mumbled to himself, while slightly narrowing his eyes.