I left the tribe's borders with the first dimming of sunlight. It wasn't out of hesitation or delay, but a precise calculation of time and distance. The journey to "Ronz" couldn't tolerate recklessness, and my prolonged stay in the previous tribe had already stirred enough questions. I left the camp buried among rocks, and the traces of my presence were no more than footsteps in the mud, soon to be erased by the wind.
The road to "Ronz" wasn't clearly marked on any map, at least not clearly enough to rely on. I depended on the shadows. I sent them ahead, scattered, to scout the mountains, the passes, and the ice-cracked paths. One of them returned with rapid pulses— a signal of a rarely used side passage. The kind caravans avoided for fear of avalanches or ice wolves. For me, it was perfect.
It took me about a day and a half to reach it. I didn't stop much. Ate little, slept less. It wasn't the cold that bothered me, but the growing feeling that Kaster knew I was coming. It wasn't a vague hunch—it was a certainty that grew stronger the closer I got.
I arrived at a high hill during the second sunset. From there, I saw "Ronz".
A tribe nestled at the bottom of a valley surrounded by white peaks, as if besieged from all sides. It wasn't large, but it looked fortified. High walls made of massive logs reinforced with iron and frozen ice. Gray fabric flags dangled from the towers. Everything about it spoke of harshness—no warmth, no decorations, no signs of celebration.
I sat there, watching.
Time passed slowly, and I sketched what I saw. Every guard post, every change in patrols, every hidden entrance or narrow alley between the houses.
I sent the shadows again, but this time with three specific tasks: scout side entrances, locate the grand tent, and detect any unusual activity inside.
The results were precise.
The southern entrance seemed almost neglected. No towers, no stationed guards—just a small wooden gate secured by an iron rod pulled manually. The only place without flags or magical markings. Perhaps it was forgotten on purpose... or reserved for a reason. The grand tent stood at the very heart of the tribe, in the central square, surrounded by a circular path that prevented direct access. Most soldiers were stationed around it, but strangely, they didn't behave like regular guards. They didn't move, didn't talk, didn't switch positions since my shadows saw them.
I observed and recorded.
When night fell, the moon rose high, and the ice reflected its silver glow onto the roads and houses. "Ronz" became a faded painting of shadows and light. That was the perfect time.
I prepared myself.
I gathered the shadows around me and absorbed their energy into my body, leaving my human form behind. I turned into a pure, fluid shadow, formless. I crossed the hills and slid down until I reached the southern passage. I heard nothing but the creak of cold wood and saw no one. I silently removed the iron rod and entered.
The inside wasn't much different from what I'd seen from above, but with more detail: the ground covered in bluish ice, faint sounds echoing through the spaces between homes. I didn't notice eyes watching me, but I wasn't reassured. I moved slowly, sneaking through alleys, sticking to the shadows as much as I could. At times, I even hid inside them.
I passed by small homes, enough for two or three at most. All seemed inhabited, yet cold. In one alley, I saw a child sitting alone on a wooden piece, staring at the ice. I heard no sound from him, felt no warmth. Just his silent presence amid the stillness left a strange impression.
I continued.
The stables were behind the main tent, next to the firewood storage. The horses were there, large, their hides cracked from the cold, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. Hybrid creatures—I couldn't be sure of their origin, but it was clear they were trained for battle.
I opened the cages.
Chaos erupted quickly.
Their cries pierced the silence, followed by shouts from the soldiers. Guards rushed toward the noise, abandoning their posts. That was my moment. I slipped through the alleys and crept toward the main tent.
Up close, it was more imposing than I imagined. Three full levels, made of dark wood panels covered with bear and wolf hides, weapons hanging on all sides. I climbed the side stairs, avoiding every light.
I entered through a rear slit.
Inside... it was lavish in its primitive way. The first floor was filled with tables stacked with papers, maps, magical tools, and open books. I saw a map of the realms... including "Nirvana," "Elaria," and "Anixi."
On the second floor, there was a weapons gallery—swords, spears, axes—lined up on sturdy shelves. Some looked ancient, etched with runes from long-forgotten languages. I approached one with a glassy head, but I stopped.
I felt him.
Kaster.
He was approaching from behind.
I turned slowly and found him standing at the edge of the stairs, silently watching me. His white hair looked colder under the faint torchlight. His eyes were blue—filled with cunning... or madness.
He spoke without changing his tone: "I didn't expect you to get in this fast. I thought you'd be more careful."
I replied: "Maybe I didn't want to ruin the surprise."
He took a step forward. Everything about him radiated confidence. "I've been watching you since you crossed the hills. Your shadows, skilled as they are, left a trace easy to feel."
I asked him directly: "Why wait for me?"
He said: "Because our confrontation is inevitable. And I hate long chases."
I raised my dagger and stepped back. In the next moment, a net fell from the third floor.
Soldiers. Five, six—maybe more. I didn't count. They jumped from above, aiming their arrows at me.
One fired.
The first arrow pierced my shoulder, the second sliced the air above my head. I fought. I didn't stop.
I stabbed one in the chest, kicked another and sent him crashing, but I was surrounded. A third came from behind and hit my side. My blood began to freeze.
Kaster didn't interfere. He watched, as if conducting an experiment—nothing more.
I drew out the last of my energy and burst the shadows around me. They exploded like black smoke, disorienting them, forcing them back.
But I was too weak to flee.
I turned myself into a shadow, but I found my incorporeal body freezing.
How?
My vision began to fade. The last thing I saw before everything went black was Kaster's face approaching, kneeling before me, whispering:
"Your journey ends here... or begins, if you understand."
Then... nothing.