It wasn’t the cold that had killed them.

Aiden tightened his grip on the bow, fighting the numbness creeping into his fingers. Pressed against a tree, its bark biting through his wool coat, he steadied his aim. His breath misted in the night air, momentarily clouding his view of the clearing. What the hell had happened here?

Three ravaged carcasses punctuated the otherwise undisturbed snow. Towering pines cast stark shadows across the scene, red glistening against white in the moon's silver glow.

Ancient legends of creatures roaming the woods kept children close to the village, but he’d never put much faith in them until last fall, when old man Rolfus had returned to Hein’s Crossing wide-eyed and blood-soaked, claiming a “beast” had slain his horse. When a group of ale-fuelled men left the tavern to investigate, they found only a scorched patch of earth.

Aiden took a deep breath and lowered his bow, pushing back his fear. He’d been born to a hunter, raised amidst the trees, and he knew the forest’s every whisper. There was no point in listening to the stories of farmers and townsfolk.

A gust of wind cried through the branches. Aiden pulled his cloak tighter. Despite the familiar surroundings, he’d never seen a massacre like this. Hopefully, Ven would soon return from checking his section of the trapline.

Before long, crunching steps granted his wish and Ven appeared, his friend’s sturdy body carrying the musk of two days spent hunting in the wild. “Empty. Not even a hare,” he said, panting from trudging through the snow. “How about you?”

“Shh,” Aiden whispered, nodding towards the open ground. “Look.”

Ven’s heavy breathing stopped. “By Akal, what are those?”

Aiden squinted at the bloody pieces strewn across the field. The carcasses resembled bears, but what sort of creature could’ve slain three of them at once? Cougars would occasionally snatch the odd cub out here in the foothills of the Northern Spine, but that was rare, and the aftermath would look nothing like this. He shook his head.

A mischievous grin spread across Ven’s face. “We’ve gotta take a closer look.”

“Wait,” Aiden called, reaching for Ven, too late to stop him. He drew a deep breath of cold air, calming himself. This was so typical of Ven, and two occasions instantly came to mind—the time he’d wanted to raise a wolf cub as a pet and it paid Gramma Milna’s chickens a visit, and when he’d tampered with Beldor’s forge and nearly set the smithy on fire. Beyond that, Ven’s reckless behaviour had landed them in trouble more times than Aiden could count. Yet, staying behind, alone, would be far worse than whatever stupid idea Ven would come up with.

With a final, uneasy glance at the dark trees behind him, Aiden slung the bow over his shoulder and followed Ven into the clearing.

Spring had arrived in the lowlands and melted much of the snow. Here in the foothills, away from the shelter of the trees, the white stuff clung to Aiden’s calves, slowing him down.

Though out of breath moments ago, Ven was already at the carcasses. “Holy hell! Two babies and a mama bear.” He nudged a cub with his foot. “Mauled, but nothing really eaten. Like a cat with a mouse.”

Aiden joined Ven, shaking his head in disbelief. Even now, his friend couldn’t contain his boisterous spirit. “Let’s tell the whole damn forest we’re here, shall we? Hungry or not, I’m pretty sure whoever or whatever killed them wouldn’t mind a juicy chunk of this.” He patted Ven’s belly.

Ven chuckled, flipping a defiant finger at Aiden, then pointed at tracks leading to the other side of the clearing and into the woods. “Hey, look at that. Whaddya think?”

With a deep frown, Aiden stared at the large, rounded impressions with claw marks sunk deep into the snow. A bear, and a big one at that. It had dragged something along. “Grabbed another cub?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Ven grinned and began following the tracks.

“Just forget about it,” Aiden called after him.

“Come along, my lord,” Ven said with an Akroian accent. At least Aiden thought it was Akroian. “I assure you no harm shall come to thee.”

Aiden sighed. Ven was like a brother, but he could send the “my lord” to the nethers. He hated the title—a sentiment he shared with his dad—something Ven knew all too well. He pulled his cap lower and followed.

Darkness and the sharp smell of pines embraced them. The tracks faded, trees blocking the moonlight. The occasional broken twig told Aiden they were still going the right way, although “right way” was perhaps a poor choice of words. If their dads had been with them, it would’ve felt so much better. Instead, he was following Ven on this quest to find… what, exactly? He trembled as images of teeth and claws slashed through his mind. Even Ram would’ve been hesitant to track down this bear. Yet, here Aiden was, following Ram’s son, who apparently had no second thoughts about what they were doing.

“Ven, wait.”

Ven stopped, slapping his neck in poorly hidden frustration.

“This is stupid. We’re miles from town, breaking every rule our dads hammered into us.”

“You’re right,” Ven said, irritation seeping into his voice. Frowning, he backtracked to Aiden. “Our dads are probably on their way. Let’s find this bloody bear before they get here and drag us home.”

Aiden shrugged. That wouldn’t be much of a loss.

“Besides,” Ven continued. “If Ledarein and Gress are with them, they’ll kill the fun before it even begins. Do you really wanna go back home and listen to their endless jabber?”

Aiden ground his teeth. Ven was right about their guests. They would have their own take on the adventure. But going back home to roaring flames in the fireplace and a hearty meal didn’t seem like a terrible option. “What about Greta? You know she’ll be worried sick by now.” If nothing else could convince Ven to go back, surely the thought of his girlfriend would.

“Greta’s been a pain lately.” Ven kicked some snow off his boot. “Not sure if things will last. Forget about her.” He gripped Aiden by the shoulders. “I really need this. You and me out here, like it used to be.”

Aiden sighed. There didn’t seem to be any way to change Ven’s mind. But he had to admit, Ven had a good point—it was nice to be out here, just the two of them.

“All right.” Aiden locked eyes with his friend. “But you go first.”

“That’s me mate.” Ven grinned. “Beg your pardon. My lord.”

Aiden gestured at the tracks. “After you, my humble servant.”

They continued further into the forest, stopping several times to spot the next faint paw print or broken twig. The woods lay silent, as if the darkness had consumed all living things. Aiden hoped they would lose the track and have an excuse to head back to camp, pack up, and go home. Surely, Ven felt the same way.

Ven stopped, his shoulders slumping as he peered into the woods. “I think that’s it.”

“I can’t see anything either.” Aiden nodded, his chest lighter. “Let’s go back.” He turned, but did not get far before bumping into the bear cub. It wasn’t torn like the others, yet dead. He flinched at the touch of Ven’s hand on his back.

“You found the cub.” Ven crouched next to the animal. “How did we miss it?”

“It’s dead. Let’s go.”

“This one’s not too bad.” Ven ran his fingers through its fur. “Would be worth skinning.”

“Are you dumb? There’s a bloody killer bear out there,” Aiden hissed. “It just mauled a whole bear family. What do you reckon it’ll do with us? Invite us to its den for some honey?”

“Yeah, soften you up with honey before it mates with ya.” Ven hung his tongue out, thrusting at Aiden.

Aiden crossed his arms. “I’m going back to camp. Now.”

“All right, fine. You win.” Ven shoved his hands under the dead cub. “But I’m sure as hell not walking all the way back here tomorrow.” With a grunt, he heaved the carcass over his shoulders.

A branch gave way under the weight of Ven and the baby bear, its snap echoing through the forest.

From within the trees, a guttural roar rang out, weakening Aiden’s legs.

Ven dropped his haul with a thump.

Frozen in place, Aiden watched a purple glow sparkle to life not even a hundred paces away. It quickly grew brighter, the trees towering shadows against a blinding canvas.

For a moment, Aiden hoped it was Ledarein playing one of his magical tricks on them. But the sounds of branches snapping and heavy breathing told him something big was moving through the undergrowth. The noise grew louder, the glow approaching.

A monstrous figure prowled through the woods, turning Aiden's stomach with fear and disgust. Moving towards them was a bear, but it was twisted and malformed, its fur a bloodstained, tangled mess. A stench of scorched hair burned his nostrils.

The bear growled through spiky fangs, its muscles bulging like a barrel about to burst.

“Ven…” Aiden grabbed Ven’s sleeve, his voice trembling. Outrunning a bear was madness, but he couldn’t face that beast.

Another roar hammered against Aiden’s chest. Unleashing its strength, the bear charged.

“Go,” Ven shouted, his desperation cutting through the night.

Aiden’s legs sprang to life. He pushed off in the direction they had come from. Snow clung to his feet, each step a struggle. He ignored the burning in his lungs, each breath a rasp. He had to get away from that thing, no matter what.

Deeper snow slowed him down. He was back in the clearing, but he had to keep going. That monster was after them, and it would bite, chew, and tear them apart.

“Don’t stop!” Ven pulled Aiden with him. “Go!”

They sprinted past the carcasses and into the woods. Aiden did not think, he just ran, Ven by his side. They followed their old tracks until there was nothing but untouched snow to be found.

“Damn.” Ven came to a halt, panting. “Where the hell are we?”

Aiden surveyed their surroundings. Wind-warped trees loomed all around, their branches like gnarled hands reaching for them. “We have to go back, find our tracks again.”

Another roar rang out.

“Not with that thing still out there,” Ven said, his voice tense.

Aiden’s eyes darted from branch to branch. The trees thinned out ahead. “That way?”

Ven nodded.

They trudged through the snow, fighting a howling wind, the moon offering little light through a veil of clouds. They pressed on, hearts pounding, until rough terrain forced them off course.

Poor footing sent Aiden reaching for balance, but his hand found only soil and the bite of a sharp stone. Wincing, he pressed snow onto the wound, the cold numbing the pain. Moonlight returned, revealing a wall of rock and dirt, towering high, too long to circumvent. The night had lured them into a ravine.

The only way out was the way they had come.

“Shit.” Ven clawed at his head. “We’re trapped.”

Aiden’s gaze swept from rocks to trees and back again. “Got to climb it.”

“Shh,” Ven whispered, grabbing his axe.

Aiden flinched at a rustle in the bushes. He drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it in one smooth motion. Pulling the bowstring, he turned to face death.

The beast emerged from the woods, primed to attack. Shrubs yielded to its massive weight, singed by the dancing purple glow.

Hands shaking, Aiden released the bowstring, nocking and releasing another arrow before the first one even missed its target. The second arrow flew true but shattered upon impact. He reached for another, his throat burning from the bear’s acrid stench.

“Run!” Ven, showing no hesitation, stepped in front of Aiden. “Get out of here.” With a grunt, he hurled his axe at the beast, but it ricocheted as though it had hit a rock. “What the hell is this thing?”

The monster advanced, its unearthly glow bathing the ravine.

Grateful for Ven’s protection, Aiden struggled to get a clear shot. There was no way he was going to flee. “Move aside,” he shouted.

Ven flung himself into the snow.

Aiden released another arrow, which merely irritated the creature. It rose on its hind legs and let out another growl, close enough for Aiden to lock eyes with it. Every beat of his heart thundered against his ribs. Akal save them.

Suddenly, the glow encasing the beast dispersed, as if whisked by a gust, pulled towards a nearby figure. The man was little more than a shadow in the purple mist, but Aiden would have recognised him anywhere—Ledarein. The mage was tracing intricate patterns in the air, weakening the creature.

The bear let out a cry and dropped to all fours. Two arrows had dug deep into its back, blood soaking its fur. Aiden spotted Ram, Ven’s father, and Gress, Ledarein’s protector, with their bows drawn and fresh arrows nocked. Between them stood Aiden’s dad, Brennand, determination etched on his face. The blade he held shone uncannily in the purple light.

Aiden drew a shaky breath, relieved by the sight of his father. But why wasn’t it Gress at the front? He was the seasoned warrior, while his dad was a simple hunter.

Raising his sword, Brennand challenged the creature. Undeterred, the beast powered through the snow, closing the gap between them in a heartbeat. Growls filled the air as they clashed in a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and steel.

Ram and Gress were on full alert, bows raised, tracking every movement. Ven, back on his feet, rushed to Aiden’s side.

“Now, Bren,” Ledarein shouted. The glow flickered and faded. “I can’t maintain this much longer.”

Brennand struggled free. Raised his blade. Shining steel pointed at the bear. With a bellow, he rammed the sword into the beast’s chest.

Aiden shielded his eyes, peering through his fingers. It had to be over now.

The bear rolled onto its side, heaving, Brennand’s sword still lodged in its heart. With a final, lingering growl, it began to dissolve into the purple mist. Piece by piece, it faded away, until there was nothing left but the untainted, gleaming blade.

“Aiden.” Bren was lying in the snow, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers.