- Two Days Later -
Two days later, Erik trudged forward through deep snow.
In his hands, he held a strip of raw deer meat—taken from the animal he'd killed that morning.
He tore into it with his teeth, the metallic tang of fresh blood coating his tongue.
The wind howled around him, a cold, merciless force that sliced through the deer hide wrapped around his shoulders. Above, the sky was churned with thick clouds, heavy with snow.
The air had that electric stillness before the break, the kind that told him that a storm was coming.
By the time he reached the edge of a cliff, the air was a wall of biting frost.
He stood there, staring at the drop below. Beyond it lay the path upward, to continue his climb toward the Ten Rings' hidden stronghold.
Erik lowered himself to sit at the cliff's edge, boots braced against the iced stone, the pelt whipping around his body as the wind tore at him.
Behind him, the storm was a gray-white wall, swallowing the horizon and erasing the line between sky and earth.
His breath came slow, visible in the freezing air, as he thought through his options.
If he tried to push on now, the storm would tear him apart. But staying put in the open was just as deadly.
The cold didn't forgive hesitation.
He clenched his jaw, running a hand over his face, mind working in sharp, urgent bursts.
Need cover. Need warmth. Need to make it through the storm…
His gaze swept the mountainside, searching for any break in the stone, any hollow that could shield him from the worst of the storm.
The snow behind him was coming fast now—thick, blinding, relentless.
That's when he felt his spider-sense. Sharp and sudden, crawling up the back of his head.
A sound suddenly cut through the howl of the wind.
Faint at first, buried beneath the shriek of the coming snowstorm, a deep rhythmic pounding of hooves.
Erik turned sharply, scanning the white void behind him. At first, there was nothing, only the blinding swirl of snow, the storm rushing in to erase the world. But then, shapes began to form in the whiteness.
Out of the storm's veil, a Przewalski's horse burst into view. A black mane bristling in the wind.
Its nostrils flared wide, steam billowing from them as it thundered forward, hooves pounding against the snow crusted earth.
Erik's eyes widened. "The hell's it doin' up here?" He muttered surprised.
Przewalski's usually stayed lower. This was no place for them.
But The horse wasn't slowing.
It came straight at him, head down, legs churning, snow exploding beneath each step.
Erik's brow furrowed. In one fluid motion, he pushed himself, twisting his body through the air in a sharp, acrobatic dive to the side. His boots hit the snow, sliding slightly before he found his footing.
That's when he saw it.
Breaking through the storm's veil just behind the horse, a beautiful snow leopard.
He was lean and powerful, its thick white-and-gray fur blending with the blizzard.
The predator was in full pursuit, its long tail streaming behind it for balance, muscles coiled and unrelenting.
Neither animal had time to stop. Their vision blurred by the weather.
The horse's hooves skidded on the icy ground, the momentum carrying it straight over the cliff.
The snow leopard lunged after it, only realizing too late what lay ahead. Its claws scraped against snow as it tried to wrench itself back, but the ground beneath gave way, and it too disappeared over the edge.
The sound that followed was muffled yet heavy. The dull, final thuds of bodies hitting far below, swallowed quickly by the roar of the storm.
Erik stepped to the edge, peering down through the swirling snow.
Far below, two shapes lay still against the ground, motionless.
His gaze swept the cliff face, tracing the jagged edges and narrow ledges for a possible route downwards.
There were ways to go down, but none that would be quick. And the storm was almost on top of him.
By the time he would pick his way across that wall of rock, the snow would bury him alive. He didn't have hours. He barely had minutes.
He exhaled sharply, the sound half a sigh, half a growl, his breath tearing away into the wind.
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing with resolve.
"Damn you, Xu Wenwu…" He muttered, the words burning in his mind. "One way or another, I'm gettin' up there."
He turned his eyes downward.
Below the cliff edge, severals tall pine trees were visible. One in particular stretched toward him, its trunk thick, its branches heavy with snow.
It was a drop, but the tree was close enough that he could make it.. With the right push.
Erik stepped back a few paces, rolling his shoulders. Then he sprinted forward, boots crunching hard against the snow, and launched himself off the edge with a burst of spider-enhanced strength.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHH"
The wind roared past his ears, the tree rushing up to meet him.
THUD! CRASH!
The impact rattled through his body as his shoulder slammed into the trunk. Snow exploded from the branches, showering down around him.
"NGH! UGHH!"
The force of the hit sent him tumbling through the limbs, each one cracking and snapping under his weight as he dropped lower and lower.
Needles scraped his arms, clumps of snow burst against his face, and branches whipped at him like wooden lashes.
Finally, he hit the ground with a dull, heavy thump, rolling once before coming to a stop in the snow.
Erik groaned, one hand pressing into the cold ground, but the sound wasn't from pain—at least, not real pain. Just the jolt of the landing working its way through him.
"Ugh .. This body is really somethin'.." He pushed himself up slowly, brushing snow from his face, and glanced back up at the cliff.
He didn't have much time.
The wind had turned savage, whipping at his face with icy claws, each gust colder than the last.
He moved quickly toward the horse's still body, his breath coming in ragged clouds. Each step crunching through snow as the storm crept closer.
Kneeling beside the body, his fingers fumbled at his belt until they closed around the hilt of his small knife.
He drew in a deep breath, then pressed the blade into the horse's belly.
The hide gave way with a wet, tearing sound, heat spilling into the frigid air. The smell hit him instantly, raw, metallic, heavy.
Working quickly, he widened the cut, his hands disappearing into the cavity as he pulled out the slick, steaming entrails. Warm blood coated his fingers, ran up his arms, and dripped onto the snow, staining it dark.
His breath came faster.. Not from exertion, but from the knowledge that the storm was almost there.
The world behind him was vanishing under a wall of swirling white.
No more time. He thought.
Shoving the last of the organs out into the snow, Erik pushed himself forward and slid into the cavity.
The warmth closed around him instantly, a humid, oppressive heat against his frozen skin. The walls pressed in, slick with blood, the scent thick in his nose and mouth.
He pulled the torn hide together, closing the belly as best he could. Only a narrow slit remained near his face, just enough to breathe through. Snowflakes drifted in through the gap, melting instantly against the heat inside.
The storm hit then, hammering the carcass, howling so loud it drowned everything else. Erik lay still, curled in the darkness, his clothes and body coated in blood. The stench was overpowering, but the warmth was life.
And so he stayed, falling asleep, hidden from the cold in the shelter of the dead.
---
Several hours later, Erik stirred in the darkness. His breath was hot and stale inside the hollowed body. The air thick with the heavy scent of death.
His muscles ached from being curled so long, but the warmth that had once surrounded him was fading slowly.
He pressed his palms against the inside of the horse's belly. The flesh was stiff now, frozen solid during the storm's peak.
Gritting his teeth, he called on the spider-strength coiled in his arms, pushing until the hide split open with a brittle crack. A rush of cold air hit his face, stinging his skin.
Slowly, he crawled out, his movements sluggish after hours of stillness.
Blood, now dark and dry, covered him from head to toe, his clothes stiff with it.
The snow around the carcass was crusted over, glistening under the light of a clear sky.
Erik tilted his head upward, his eyes drawn to a raven perched high on one of the trees.
Its feathers were like polished obsidian, catching the pale light in subtle flashes of blue.
The bird's head tilted, one black eye fixed on him as if weighing his worth. The wind tugged at its wings, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall silent.
Then he heard it.. Not from the raven's beak, but from somewhere deeper. A voice, worn and steady, speaking from a corner of his memory.
"The raven speaks in the language of the wind, and those who listen will learn the ways of the world."
The words drifted through him, lingering like the last echo of another life.
Erik let out a slow sigh, the tension in his chest easing just enough for him to notice his surroundings.
He glanced around, and for the first time in days, the world wasn't white and raging. The storm had passed.
The sun hung low but bright, its golden light spilling across the mountainside.
The air carried a gentler bite now, warmer than it had been in what felt like an eternity. As if the blizzard had taken the worst of the cold with it when it left.
Without a word, he crouched beside the body of the horse, one hand resting on its frost-covered belly.
His fingers lingered there, the cold seeping into his skin as he stared at the still form.
"By your death, life has been preserved.." He whispered, the words with a weight that felt almost ceremonial.
Life is nothin' more than a spark.. Bright for an instant, then gone before you can even grasp it. Erik thought, his mind drifting to the ghosts of faces he'd probably never see again.
It's frail, delicate… A lone flame swaying in the wind, always one breath away from being extinguished.
And yet, for me, it bears the crushing weight of eternity...
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.
"Sometimes I wish, I was dead." Erik muttered contemplating..
Because there is worse things than death when guilt has planted his fangs on you.
Drawing his knife, he worked with steady, deliberate cuts, slicing away thick portions of meat. Once done, he wrapped the pieces carefully in cloth and slid them into his bag.
To wake up each morning searchin' for them, only to remember…
Then he got up, turned, tightening the deer hide around his shoulders and began to walk again.
But death seems to play with me.
It enjoys watching my suffering. It dosen't want me to rest, or be at peace.
But even tho' it rejects my soul, it won't let go.
It lingers. Clings. Shadowing my every steps, making sure I am surronded by it.
Wherever I go, death follows.. That's how it is. I can feel it, leaning over my shoulder. Watching. Waiting.
Not to take me, but to remind me… That I'll never really be free again..
Erik steps crunched against fresh snow as his thoughts drifted to Xu Wenwu.
"Any other kid would probably be dead by now… ? What's the goal here? Am I really that insignificant in his eyes ? Or.. Did he not expect the weather to hit this hard?" He muttered with irritation.
The questions gnawed at him, unanswered. But he kept moving.