How long had it been since I could move my own body?
The long-forgotten feeling of touch returned to me like a dream I'd once clung to in the dark. No longer bound to a bed, no longer staring endlessly at the same ceiling. I had imagined this day over and over, but I'd been wrong to believe it would be perfect.
After all, miracles aren't free. And what could one possibly give in exchange for the simple act of moving? Something as basic as raising an arm, taking a step. The goddess had given me an answer. A life. My life, pledged to protect others. That was her price.
But right now, I didn't even know where I was.
Snow swirled around me, thick and fast, blinding in its whiteness. Probably a blizzard, yet beautiful in the way the wind carried the flakes in dancing, spiraling shapes.
I couldn't stay in one place. The goddess had told me to move south, though I couldn't tell which way south was. Still, I could feel it—heat, faint but real, coming from my left. The heat of people. That was where I needed to go.
I trudged toward it, each step crunching in the snow. Frozen trees leaned under the weight of white, their black branches groaning. Rocks jutted from the ground, glazed with thick ice. Some animals approached through the haze, shapes at first, then clearly wolves, but the moment I made eye contact, they scattered. I didn't know wolves were that big, I thought, craning my head to follow their movement. Maybe people are right when they say you learn something new every day. Though maybe I'm learning too much today.
When the heat grew stronger, I looked up—and froze.
A colossal wall loomed over me, built from a dark stone that seemed to drink the light. At its base lay corpses. Some were human, but others… others had too many arms, or horns curling from their skulls, or were covered head to toe in thick fur.
I crouched to see them more clearly when something struck my head with a dull thunk. Snow clung to my hair as I reached down and picked it up. A stick—no, an arrow. Metal tip, feathers at the end.
I looked up again. I could barely make out the figures above, but their voices carried through the wind.
"Are you sure you saw something moving?" one asked, his voice skeptical but alert.
"I swear on my dad's name I saw something. I think I even hit it in the head," the other replied, a mixture of pride and unease in his tone.
"You know we have to go out there, right? So make sure you saw right."
"Well…" the man hesitated. "The blizzard picked back up, so I can't tell now. Let's wait and see."
For what felt like a minute, the wind screamed around us, the snow whipping against my face. Then, slowly, the storm's fury eased.
"Hey, Aldir," the first man called again.
"What?" Aldir's reply came gruff, like a man already tired of his partner's observations.
"There's a naked man moving his arms around."
Aldir leaned further over the wall's edge. Through the clearing snow, I could finally see his outline—tall, broad-shouldered, the shape of a heavy fur cloak wrapped tight around him. His companion, shorter and wiry, kept squinting as if afraid he'd blink and I'd vanish.
Aldir exhaled sharply. "Of all the cursed days…" he muttered. "Go fetch Captain Rhor. And bring a blanket before the fool freezes solid."
The wiry man hesitated. "What if he's one of them?"
"Then the Captain will decide whether we let him in or put an arrow between his eyes. Now move."
The shorter man grumbled under his breath but disappeared from the wall, leaving Aldir to keep his gaze fixed on me, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The storm was quieting, but the air between us felt sharper than the cold.
He stood like a statue, one gloved hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other gripping the wall's battlement.
I stayed still. Not because I was afraid, but because I could feel the weight of his suspicion pressing down like the cold itself.
Boots clanged against metal somewhere above, muffled by the snow. Moments later, the wiry man returned, followed by a third figure—thicker in build, wearing a long cloak lined with pale fur. His hood was drawn low, but even from here, I could see the dark glint of his eyes.
"That him?" the newcomer asked, his voice deep and steady.
"That's him," Aldir replied. "Still standing there, waving his arms like he owns the snow."
The newcomer stepped forward, resting both hands on the parapet. "You there! State your name and your business!"
I hesitated. My name… it felt distant, as though the blizzard had stolen it from my mind. "I… don't know where I am," I called back, my voice carrying strangely in the cold air. "The goddess told me to come here."
Aldir's brow furrowed at that. The wiry man snorted. "Oh, that's rich. Maybe the snow goddess sent him to die at our gate."
The newcomer didn't laugh. "Open the postern," he ordered. "We'll sort him inside before the wind does."
"But, Captain—" the wiry man began.
"Postern. Now."
Reluctantly, the smaller guard jogged along the wall until he vanished from sight.
Aldir still didn't take his eyes off me. "If you try anything when that door opens, stranger, I'll make sure your second life ends quicker than your first."
I didn't answer. My skin prickled from more than the cold as I watched the narrow, iron-bound gate in the base of the wall creak open. Snow spilled inward from the sudden shift, and two more guards stepped out, both with spears lowered.
"Inside," one barked.
The heat I'd been following all this time poured from the opening, thick with the smell of smoke and stone. I took one step forward… and realized every single man had shifted slightly, ready to strike.
The goddess hadn't said anything about this part.
The warmth inside hit me like a wave. It wasn't exactly comfortable, more like stepping too close to a bonfire after being buried in snow, but it wrapped around me fast enough to make my skin sting.
The postern gate clanged shut behind me, sealing the cold outside. My breath fogged in the air, mixing with the heavy scent of burning wood, wet leather, and steel.
We were in a narrow stone corridor lit by torches that hissed as the draft chased through. The two spear-men flanked me, their eyes sharp beneath the shadow of their helms. Aldir followed close behind, every footstep deliberate.
"Stop." The Captain's voice cut through the clatter of boots. He stepped ahead, pulling back his hood. His hair was black streaked with grey, cropped short. His jaw was square, his mouth a thin line that looked like it had been drawn by someone with little patience.
He studied me in silence for a long moment. Then: "You're unarmed. No pack. No cloak. No shoes. You come through a blizzard like that and you're still standing."
I didn't answer right away. The truth—that I'd only just regained the ability to move—felt too strange to give to these men. "The goddess told me to come south," I said instead.
The wiry guard, now leaning against the wall, laughed under his breath. "That's twice he's said it. Maybe she'll pop out of the snow next."
"Quiet, Harven," the Captain said, not even glancing his way. His gaze remained locked on me. "South, huh? You know what lies south from here?"
I shook my head.
"Nothing. Not for weeks of travel. Unless you count the things that come out of the Rift."
I thought of the corpses outside the wall, the ones with too many arms, the curling horns, the thick fur, and my stomach tightened.
The Captain's eyes narrowed. "Those things at the base of the wall, did you kill any of them?"
"No," I said.
He didn't seem surprised by the answer. He gave a small nod to Aldir, who stepped forward and draped a coarse wool blanket over my shoulders. It smelled faintly of smoke and salt.
"Trow him in the cell," the Captain said. "And keep him under watch. If he's lying, I want to know before nightfall."
Aldir's hand pressed against my back, firm but not rough, steering me down the corridor. Harven followed, still muttering to himself.
I didn't know if I'd just been rescued… or captured.