The forest lay buried under an endless blanket of snow. Trees, tall and ancient, groaned as icy winds slipped through their branches, shaking loose flurries that danced in the pale daylight. Somewhere in that frozen silence, fresh hoof prints cut through the perfect white — the only sign that life dared to move here.
Hidden behind a snow-laden bush, a young boy waited. Kaoru, fifteen winters old, wore a simple fur-lined jacket patched together over the years. His breath rose in misty clouds as he steadied his eyes on the tracks ahead. Every exhale stung his throat like ice.
Even in the coldest places… life finds a way to run.
The thought flickered through his mind like a prayer, steadying the tremble in his gloved fingers.
Beyond the bush, the stag stood regal and unaware — a lone monarch of this silent white kingdom, grazing by a half-frozen stream. Kaoru drew an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back. The wood creaked softly as he nocked it, pulling the string until it hummed under the strain.
The forest itself seemed to hold its breath with him. No rustle. No birdcall. Just the faint beat of Kaoru's heart echoing in his ears.
He let the arrow fly.
A sharp whistle cut through the cold — but just as the arrow reached its mark, the stag jerked its massive head. The arrow grazed its flank, tearing through fur but not enough to bring it down.
With a startled snort, the stag bolted, crashing into the maze of trees.
Kaoru bit back a curse as he surged to his feet, snow swallowing his boots up to the shin.
I can't miss… not today!
He ran, boots crunching through drifts of white as the forest seemed to darken with each desperate step. The deeper he chased, the thicker the shadows grew — pine branches arching overhead like skeletal fingers.
Then, a sound he hadn't expected. Not the pounding hooves of the fleeing stag — but a low, rumbling growl. It rolled through the silence like distant thunder.
Kaoru skidded to a halt. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he turned.
From between the trees, a pair of yellow eyes stared back at him — unblinking, hungry. A massive grey wolf stepped into the open, steam rising from its muzzle as its breath met the frigid air.
Kaoru's grip tightened around the bow in his hand — pointless now, with no arrow left.
Perfect… just my luck.
The wolf snarled and lunged. Instinct took over — Kaoru threw himself aside, rolling through the snow as sharp teeth snapped where his arm had been moments before. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing a fallen branch, swinging it wide. The branch cracked across the wolf's snout but splintered in his hands. The beast barely flinched.
It circled him now, slow, eyes glinting like molten gold against the white gloom. Kaoru raised his fists, every breath burning in his lungs. The cold bit at his fingers, dulling his grip.
If I run… it'll tear me apart. If I stand… maybe…
The wolf lunged again — Kaoru ducked low, slamming his shoulder into its ribs. They crashed into the snow, a wild flurry of fur and limbs. Claws raked his forearm, sharp enough to sting through his jacket and skin. Blood blossomed against the white — a brutal, ugly contrast.
Pain threatened to blur his vision, but Kaoru clenched his teeth. His hand brushed against something hard in the snow — the broken shaft of his lost arrow. Without thinking, he snatched it up and plunged it deep into the wolf's flank.
The beast yelped — a sharp, furious cry — then staggered back, dragging itself into the shadows between the trees. The growl faded into the hush of falling snow.
Kaoru slumped into the drift, clutching his bleeding arm. Each breath shuddered out of him like steam.
Still too weak. I need to be stronger.
---
When the sun dipped low behind the white peaks, Kaoru limped home.
His house was a lonely figure in the valley — a weathered wooden cabin tucked at the edge of the frozen forest. Thin trails of smoke curled from its crooked chimney, carrying a warmth that seemed too small for the vast, cold land that surrounded it.
Inside, the flickering fire painted the walls in a soft orange glow. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the rafters, filling the air with a faint, bitter scent.
Ayame Mikage — his mother — knelt by the hearth, her slender hands tending the fire. Her hair, once black, was streaked with silver strands that glimmered in the lamplight. Her eyes, gentle yet burdened, snapped up when the door creaked open.
Kaoru stepped inside, boots soaked, blood dripping from his sleeve.
"Kaoru!" Ayame gasped. She rushed to him, her hands already peeling back his coat. The claw marks on his forearm glowed raw in the firelight.
"Just… a wolf," Kaoru muttered, trying to sound braver than he felt. "I scared it off."
Ayame sighed, her fingers working quickly, pressing a warm cloth to the wound. She touched his cheek, her thumb brushing away flecks of melting snow.
"You shouldn't go so far alone," she whispered. "These woods… they hold more than just wolves."
Kaoru didn't answer. His eyes drifted to the fire, watching the embers dance in silence.
If I'm weak… I can't protect you. Or anyone.
Ayame paused, reading the thought behind his clenched jaw. She let the cloth drop into the basin and stood, moving to an old chest hidden in the shadows. Its iron hinges groaned as she lifted the lid.
Inside — relics older than Kaoru had ever seen. Ancient scrolls bound in worn leather. A blade's broken fragment, wrapped in faded cloth. And in the center — a cracked crest of ice-blue stone, carved with strange, swirling patterns.
Ayame knelt beside him, the frost crest resting in her palms like a piece of the winter itself. She held it up to the fire — the flames flickered against its surface like trapped lightning.
"Long ago," she began, her voice so quiet that the crackle of the fire almost swallowed it, "our bloodline carried a secret. A dragon — so cold it could freeze time itself. The Frostbite Dragon."
Kaoru stared at her, the words too heavy for the small room.
"A… dragon? That's just an old story, mother."
Ayame's smile flickered — sorrow and pride tangled in her eyes.
"No. It's real. Our ancestor, Kazuki Mikage, sealed a power no one else could tame. And now, that blood runs through you."
Kaoru shook his head. His cut burned, his breath ached, but the truth hurt worse.
"I'm just a hunter. I can't even hit a deer clean."
Ayame reached for his hand. Her fingers, warm and steady, closed around his scraped knuckles.
"You will. You have to. Because out there — in the shadows — monsters stir. Our family once held them back. Now… it's your turn to learn who you truly are."
She pressed the frost crest into his palm. The cold bit into his skin, so sharp it made him flinch.
Kaoru's voice cracked. "Mother… what if I fail?"
Ayame's smile was sad but unyielding.
"Then stand up. Break your limits. Again. And again."
Outside, the wind howled louder. Sparks from the fire floated up into the dark rafters like tiny shooting stars.