As the days slowly turned colder in Lóthaven, the snows buffeted by gale winds and creating huge drifts along the town’s streets, Faye asked the others how cold it was really going to get. They told her repeatedly that it would get a little worse, only for it to step up in intensity more and more.

Eventually, even Ailith’s unfailing enthusiasm wasn’t enough. She became as mopey as the rest of them.

They were practically stuck in the house. Together. All of the time.

Most of the work the adventurers were doing had dried up with the coming of the first true snows of the season.

Arran assured Faye that this was usually the worst they got. There wasn’t anything worse than this, he said.

Of course, Gavan would then remind Arran of that one time…

It was continuous. It seemed that they had made some kind of a game out of it, but Faye was clueless. She just wished it would stop getting worse. She was glad that the house itself didn’t have too many problems, as long as the fire stayed lit.

The adventurers told her that they were lucky. As an adventuring team, they were given priority on winter stores, so they’d had the fuel stored inside for almost the entire year. There were others in the town that weren’t as lucky.

“What do you mean? People are going cold in this temperature?” she said, gaping at them, open mouthed.

“No,” Arran said, “but they might have to leave to go to the communal halls.”

In a place like Lóthaven, it got cold enough that there were emergency stores at strategic places around town. She’d never seen one, but they told her that they basically looked the same as ordinary buildings.

“If it gets this cold regularly, then surely there are more permanent solutions?”

The three of them were shared glances, and she frowned at them.

“What? Am I missing something again?”

“Well, our stats are… quite a bit higher than yours. Most people’s stats will be.”

Ah, of course. How had she forgotten?

“I knew that. I’d just…”

“That’s to be expected, Faye. You lived an entire life thinking one way. But don’t worry. Whilst it’s cold for most people here, it’s not deathly. Of course, we can’t let you wander on your own…”

Faye’s gaze turned flinty. Arran flinched.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

“Arran, you’re an idiot,” Ailith said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, Faye. Let’s get you out of here for an hour or so.”

She considered saying no. But thinking about it, she wasn’t sure why. They were looking out for her. Sure, it rankled that she couldn’t do it on her own… or that she could, but that it was cold enough they were worried for her enough that she shouldn’t be on her own.

She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more. The weather or their protectiveness.

It made her feel so weak.

“Fine. Let me put my cloak on.”

“You’re going to need more than just a cloak. Layer up. At least three layers under the cloak. We have winter cloaks that are prepared for this weather. I’ll get you one.”

“The layers trap warmth,” Arran said. “So even a second layer of something thin is useful.”

“I know about layering clothes, thank you,” she replied, voice as cool as the air outside. “I’m surprised you know anything about it, of course, being as technologically backwards as you are.”

Arran paused, raising an eyebrow.

She relented, grimacing.

“Sorry, low blow.”

“No, it’s fine… go out, enjoy yourself. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“That’s the problem!” Ailith called from inside the cloak storage cupboard. “Don’t remind her. Here Faye, I think this one is a nice colour, should match your eyes a little.”

Outside, the snow wasn’t falling rapidly, but it swirled down in lazy curls. The streets felt smaller than usual, the snowdrifts rose up in curves against the sides of the houses. They muffled sound, too. The sky was a light grey, despite the time of day, because the cloud cover was absolute.

Despite the harsh weather, there were still workers about the town. True, the majority of work had slowed, but that was mostly for the temporary folks that would help in different places — like the adventurers when they were in town. The smithy and armoury, the bakeries, even the Guild, were all running still with their core workers.

“How long does winter last?” Faye asked, trying her hardest to keep a brisk pace up, despite the treacherous footing.

“It always feels longer than the other seasons, but summer can get truly hot,” Ailith replied. She was wrapped up, too, but she was striding through the streets as tall as usual. Faye had bowed her head and instinctively hunched her shoulders as she moved to ward off the cold. “But really, true winter is only three months long.”

“And this festival…” Faye asked, teeth starting to chatter, “it’s just the first festival, there are more?”

Ailith grinned, “No, not really. It is called the festival of the First Winter, not the first winter festival. It’s a time of remembrance, of looking back on what happened over the previous year. Bringing in the new year with family and friends in a way that reminds us to strive forward, onwards. Never to forget the past, so that we don’t repeat the mistakes we made.”

Faye hummed, thoughtfully. “Are there any practices that you normally do that I should know about?”

Ailith shook her head. “Nothing special. There will be a celebration, but all you need do is turn up and enjoy yourself.”

Faye grumbled at that. She wasn’t sure that she would be able to enjoy herself. That oppressive feeling had just been getting worse and worse. Clouds darker than those in the sky above the town followed Faye everywhere she went.

“Do you want to head past the smithy again?” Ailith asked.

“Not today,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think I could work up the energy to try anything.”

She had been spending some time at the smithy, getting the barest hint of training from the smiths. They didn’t have any young of their own, and therefore apparently no one they trusted to pass on their knowledge to. She had been slowly wearing them down on letting her try her hand at the skill and lately they had relented a little — allowing her to play with scrap pieces of metal.

She hadn’t picked up anything resembling even mediocre skill with smithing. No system announcement, either. It had been another thing the adventurers had suggested.

Another thing that had failed.

She kicked a small pillow of snow, watching as the pile exploded into a cloud of snowflakes. She walked through the cloud, smiling at the small display of beauty despite her mood.

“You know you’ll work through it, eventually.”

Faye shrugged. She didn’t want to look at the pitying expression she was sure to find on Ailith’s face. The woman was just trying to be kind, but Faye would have preferred to not be placated like this. It made her feel small, insignificant. To be in a world that showed you progress on your ability and skill only to not rate highly enough for the system to acknowledge you was a pain she had never known before coming here.

The cold wind screamed through the streets for a moment, the howl of the gust almost ripping her hood from her head. She caught it at the last moment, pulling it roughly down to cover her exposed skin.

Ailith grabbed her arm and pulled her along a little, into the lee of a building.

“It’s picking up, Faye. Time to head back.”

Faye shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to go back in yet. Come on, the gate’s nearby. Let’s at least get there before turning back.”

Ailith looked out into the swirling darkness, true darkness falling faster than it had any right to. The lights and flames of braziers lit across the town glowed dully in the distance, but even these were quickly swallowed up.

Faye didn’t wait, she kept walking. She knew the other woman well enough. She wanted to protect Faye but was also the kind of person that took more risks than she didn’t. It was easy to sway her into doing something that Arran wouldn’t be inclined to allow.

Frowning at the phrase “allow”, because no one should have to allow her to do anything — especially in her own mind! Faye trudged onward, one foot in front of the other, head bowed against the gusts of icy cold wind and snow.

It took a little longer than she thought to reach the gate, but the town wall suddenly loomed as if out of nowhere. It was so hard to judge distance properly.

Of course, they had been following the streets, so they ended up right at the gate. This was the northern gate, and the one that often saw the most traffic as it was the quickest route to the trade road that led further into civilisation.

The gate itself was open, each massive door cranked open by a chain and wheel system that allowed one or two people to do what a whole team would normally have to with solid hardwood gates like these.

It took Faye a few seconds of standing in the freezing cold to realise what was wrong with the picture.

“Where are the guards?” she shouted to Ailith, who had appeared at her side. The other woman wasn’t as bothered by the cold, so she was unbowed, but she squinted into the darkness just the same.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “They should not have abandoned their posts… especially in this weather.”

“What?” Faye asked, but her shouted word was stolen on a howling gust of wind. Ailith neither heard her nor replied.

But with that gust of wind, the snow that blinded them in front of the gate parted suddenly and briefly. In that small gap, Faye saw eyes reflecting out of the darkness beyond the boundary of the town.

She stepped forward. If there were monsters out there, the guards may have been checking it out. But if the guards had stepped inside from the weather, they needed to be told about something being out there.

“Faye!”

She heard Ailith’s calls, but just gestured for the guardian to follow. She didn’t catch what the woman said in return, but she followed Faye as she stomped towards the guard post just inside the gate, the howling wind dogging her every step.

The small hut was basically just a small space for guards to sit occasionally and question someone, get something to eat, or fill out a form. Faye had never seen them use a guard post for much more than that, but now she realised that it may also be shelter from adverse weather.

She looked up, as much as she could into the freezing, stinging air.

Can’t believe it’s this bad, she thought.

Walking further, she realised that the guard post was as silent as a grave. No lights inside, the door secured tight against the wind. She pounded on the wood with her gloved fist, but there was no one inside to answer it seemed.

“Something is wrong, Faye,” Ailith shouted into her ear. “We have to go back!”

“No, hold on, I saw something out there!”

She pushed past Ailith, ignoring the fact that the other woman could hold her back with a pinky if she wanted. Instead, she followed Faye.

Faye didn’t care if she was being humoured. Somehow it was alright. She had seen something outside the town wall and it had given her a bad feeling. She needed to see what it was.

The stone threshold that marked Lóthaven’s boundary was buried under snow, but Faye knew the instant she crossed it, because she stumbled into a blank space.

The air was still freezing, but there was zero wind, nor snow, and no sound.

The sudden silence was deafening. Her ears popped as if she’d suddenly changed altitude.

A moment later, Ailith stepped out of the gate too.

“Oh, fuck.”

Faye’s head whipped around to stare at Ailith.

“What?”

But Ailith wasn’t looking at her. She was staring out into the darkness. Except, outside the town it wasn’t quite dark at all. The moon was almost full, its gibbous bulk shone brightly down on the land. Clouds had somehow parted on this side of the wall and the moon’s light was strong enough to cast a shadow.

And it was one of the shadows that Ailith was staring at.

Faye saw, too, that the shadow was writhing and jerking, the strange motion not making sense to her until she saw another shape at the shadow’s feet.

It was dragging something toward the treeline, and it was almost there.

“Faye, run back,” Ailith said, a quiet but insistent voice. “There is nothing you can do for him. I need Arran and Gavan. Now.”

Faye made to ask a question — nothing she could do for him, who? — but Ailith grabbed her by the back of her cloak and threw her bodily through the boundary and into the town again.

The moment she crossed that town boundary, the true darkness and snow slammed back into place. Somehow the sound and fury of the snowstorm was comforting compared to the tingling silence she had just been in.

Looking over her shoulder, she scrambled back down the street toward the house.

By the time she made it back, she had realised what Ailith already knew. The guards. They were missing, and some kind of shadow creature was dragging something, someone, away from the town under the cover of the awful weather.

She felt bad for the guards. They were only doing their jobs.

Arran and Gavan had heard only a few words, “guards, north gate, missing, Ailith,” and they launched themselves into action, pulling on their gear in record time.

Ailith hadn’t been armoured, not like they would have, were they going on a job, but she had probably worn some layers of armour… Faye wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the woman without any kind of armour, even if nothing stood up to her full plate.

Either way, Arran had grabbed Ailith’s weapon — the huge hammer — before both adventurers launched themselves through the door and into the blinding snow.

They hadn’t said anything to her, but Faye made sure that the fire was banked and ready for them to return to. She also made sure that there was food on the stove, barely bubbling over a low heat, so they could fill their bellies when they returned.

But then, ten minutes after sorting the fire and the food, Faye was sitting on her hands, looking around the room for something else to do.

Her gaze kept landing on her own gear. The wooden sword resting in its customary place by the wall. The thick, padded armour gambeson she’d been using.

Something that she was certain was a very bad idea kept popping into the forefront of her mind.

Even twenty minutes later, no one had returned. The howling wind had died down. When Faye stuck her head out the front door for a moment to check, she realised that whatever strange effect she had seen at the northern gate had dissipated.

The gibbous moon shone over the whole of Lóthaven, the chilled but clear air inviting in a way that she hadn’t seen in a few days.

Less than three minutes later, Faye was outside again.

Her sword slapped against her left leg as she strode purposefully toward the southern gate. She pulled on gloves that sported thin plates of metal, they were better than nothing, but the thin materials were more used to protect the hands from nicks of enemy blades, or claws, than they were for warmth.

Her gambeson, thankfully, was thick enough to provide a decent layer of insulation against the night air.

Checking her straps and buckles once more, for luck, she started jogging. The snow in the air might have stopped but that didn’t mean the streets were suddenly clear. The snowdrifts still encompassed the whole street, banking up houses in mean curves of deep virgin snow that meant she had to take the very centre of the road.

Every time she turned a corner, Faye expected to hear Arran’s voice shouting out for her, or for one of the guards to stop her, or a random townsperson calling out to her.

But that expected call never came.

She reached the southern gate, it was further from the adventurer’s house than the northern gate was, to find it devoid of guards, too. But the gate here was closed. A massive, thick bar of wood barred the entire edifice in what she could only think of as the most effective lock she’d ever seen.

“Damn,” she whispered.

Her eyes found the steps leading to the top of the walls, and she took them as fast as she dared. The higher up the steps she went, the more treacherous the stone steps got, but she was determined. Reaching the top without falling off, Faye looked out across the southern landscape.

The snow was pristine, and it shone against the empty night sky, the moon’s light doubled by reflecting off the white ground.

She couldn’t see anything, but if there were monsters to the north, dragging guards away… there would be monsters to the south.

She cast one last look behind her, looking over the sleepy, snowy town. Not a soul moved, though she thought she heard something in the far distance.

Before she could really think more about it, she turned and threw herself over the wall.