The truck rumbled into the village with a heavy groan, it's wheels crunching against the frost-bitten dirt road. Snow clung to the sides, breaking loose in clumps that tumbled behind the vehicle in the churned path it left behind. Gray sat in silence beside Korr. The Kaan leaned heavily against the seat, exhaustion plain on his features, his posture slouched in a way that betrayed the strain of battle. A few of his guards sat nearby, their breaths rising in frosted plumes, each step slow but steady.
Hearing the truck's approach, the rest of the group spilled out of the wooden lodge that had become their temporary shelter. Lira emerged first, her sharp eyes scanning the scene with practiced vigilance. Behind her came Renn, his breath already fogging the air as he rubbed his hands for warmth. Orrin followed, his arms folded tight across his chest, eyes narrowing against the light snowfall. Last was Adel, whose restless energy seemed out of place in the solemn air of the village.
Before anyone could speak, the translator woman hurried forward. Her face shifted into a mask of worry as soon as she caught sight of the Kaan, his movements stiff and pained. She fired words at the guards in Jskander, her voice sharp and cutting, her tone one of anger mixed with fear. Then she turned her scolding on the Kaan himself, her voice rising in clipped syllables that needed no translation for their meaning to be understood.
Varik lifted a hand, the gesture calm and steady despite the weariness in his eyes. His lips curved faintly. "I am fine. You shouldn't worry about me."
The translator's frown deepened, her arms folding across her chest. She did not believe him, though she said nothing further.
Adel smirked at the sight of Korr's expression. Which she saw as ugly.
"What's got you all red?"
Korr shot her a glare but didn't retaliate.
'Monster should've hit her harder...'
Orrin ignored their comments, his attention snapping toward Gray. His stare was piercing, searching for an answer. "Is it...done?"
Gray met his gaze for a long moment. His throat felt dry, as though the question carried more weight than the words themselves. Finally, he gave a single, firm nod.
Renn let out a breath he had been holding and crossed his arms. Steam rose around his face as he exhaled. "Then when are we moving? It has been… what, a month now? Maybe more since we were trapped in this frozen pit. If we linger here any longer, winter will finish what the Pale Maw couldn't."
Gray pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn't need Renn to convince him. The cold was already cutting deep, and if this was only the beginning, then true Glacierfang winter would be a nightmare beyond imagining.
Varik stepped forward then, his voice calm but strong, carrying easily over the sound of the wind. "Thank you," he said, his words steady. "For helping me settle my debt." His eyes softened, and gratitude lingered in their depth.
Lira raised one eyebrow, though she did not ask what he meant. Her curiosity was plain, but she kept her silence.
Having caught Renn's words, Varik inclined his head. "He is right. Winter comes much earlier here. A week, perhaps two, and the temperatures will sink so low your trucks will freeze where they stand. If you mean to leave, you must do it quickly."
Lira did not hesitate to speak. "Then it is decided. We leave at once."
Gray felt his chest tighten. Somewhere deep within, he had grown accustomed to the rhythms of this village: the glow of fires at night, the quiet watchfulness of its people, the fragile sense of safety they had built in the aftermath of chaos. A part of him did not want to abandon it. Yet he too wanted to leave. Needed to.
"You carry little," Varik continued. "If you wish, you can be gone within the hour."
Renn and Orrin immediately turned, disappearing back into the lodge. The sound of clattering wood and rattling gear spilled out as they began gathering their belongings.
Varik's smile returned, warmer this time. "It gives me hope to see others survive. To endure, even when the land itself seeks to break you."
Lira, watching him, hesitated for a moment. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "You can... still come with us if you'd like."
Just then her eyes flicked past him, catching the translator who stood just behind his shoulder. The woman lingered close, her gaze never straying far from him. Lira noticed the way Varik's glance softened when it drifted toward her, and something heated her cheeks. She looked quickly away. She understood without needing his answer. This was his home.
Before the silence could stretch too long, Adel piped up. "Even if we are leaving… do we even know where we are going?"
One of the Kaan's guards stepped forward then, clutching something tight against his chest. His fingers trembled slightly as he unwrapped it. An aged scroll of hide revealed itself, bound in weathered string. Slowly, reverently, he unrolled it.
Shock spread around the air.
It was a map.
Not a crude sketch, but a detailed and carefully drawn layout of Glacierfang itself. Peaks rose in jagged ink strokes, rivers and valleys etched in thin, winding lines. Narrow paths curved between frozen cliffs, curling like veins through the deadly land. Though faded, the markings were still legible.
Gray leaned over it, scanning eagerly. He spotted their current village, marked in faded runes: Veyrahl.
He traced the narrow path filled with monsters, where the rank seven had been kidnapped. It was labeled as The Hollow Gate.
Then his eyes caught on something else. A shaded expanse stretched wide across the parchment, its surface dark and ominous. One word was scrawled across it, sharp and haunting.
The Graveyard of Ysalther.
'Ysalther...sounds familiar...where have I heard it before?'
Varik noticed his gaze and his expression darkened. "It is a place you must never step foot in. The Graveyard belongs to the Ysalther, the ice giants of old. Their echoes linger strongest there, stronger than anywhere else. To trespass is death."
The silence that followed was heavy. All of them remembered the scene of Gray rushing back from the tower, reporting he had seen an ice giant.
Varik's gaze sharpened as he analysed their expressions."Tell me you...you didn't go inside."
Korr crossed his arms. "Gray did. Barely made it out alive."
Even the translator paled at that.
Varik moved toward Gray, his presence heavy and firm. He gripped both of Gray's shoulders, his hands steady and unyielding. His voice was low, carrying a weight that left no room for argument. "Then listen well. It is a miracle you stand here. If you encounter them again, no matter what happens, you must run. Do not fight. Do not listen. Even their voices can kill."
Gray swallowed hard, the chill sliding deeper into his chest than the cold air could reach. He nodded.
At that moment Orrin and Renn returned, their arms laden with furs and worn packs. Renn tossed his gear into the truck bed with a grunt, then slid into the driver's seat with a ghost of a smile. "Feels good to be back," he muttered.
Adel, Lira, and Orrin climbed in after him, checking their straps and belts. Gray followed last, his eyes lingering on the village one final time. The faint glow of fires, the bowed figures of villagers, the quiet weight of safety, it all pressed into him as he stepped inside the truck.
The engine growled to life, shuddering against the cold. Varik stepped forward, pointing toward a narrow road that cut around the village. "Take the back path. It is safer."
Renn nodded, turning the wheel as Varik walked alongside them toward the side gate.
People lined the road as they passed. Not with suspicion this time, nor with the wary pity they had shown before. Instead their eyes carried warmth. Some smiled faintly. Others bowed their heads in silence. Korr leaned out of the window with a smirk. "Looks like they finally accepted us."
Renn's gaze caught the blacksmith who had once glared daggers at them. Now, the man simply gave a single, silent nod. Renn returned it without words.
At the back gate, Varik spoke in Jskander, the harsh syllables carrying across the cold. The gates creaked as they opened, releasing a blast of fog and snow. The storm outside was thicker than before, the wind howling as though intent on swallowing all who entered.
Gray turned toward Varik. His lips curved into a faint smile, though it felt more like goodbye than farewell.
"Follow the path on the map given to you. It should lead you to a possible exit." Varik spoke loudly.
Renn nodded from inside the truck and it began to roll forward, tires crunching against snow as it carried them out of the village.
Just as they pulled away, Varik suddenly remembered something and cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted after them. His voice strained against the storm. "Hey! Have you ever heard the name… Aurelle Nocthallow? He came by a few weeks ago and..."
The wind rose in a violent gust, and the roar of the engine drowned his words. None of them heard.
Varik bent slightly, one hand braced against his knee, his breath spilling into the air in sharp clouds. The translator was at his side in an instant, her hands clutching his arm.
"Come," she murmured softly. "You have given enough. Rest now."
He straightened with effort, his gaze still on the storm that swallowed the path behind the truck. For a long moment he stood there, silent, watching until the last trace of its sound was gone. Only then did he allow her to guide him back inside the gates.
The storm closed over the road, erasing every mark of passage. Yet ahead, on that hidden path, there was something that felt close to hope.