Chapter 1
Kaeldric
Thwip. The arrow I released from my bow cut through the frigid air. A moment later, a dull thunk echoed as it pierced the rabbit and lodged in the tree just beyond it. By the time I reached it, the animal was almost dead, the arrow buried clean through its torso.
For a brief moment, I stood over it, watching the last little bit of warmth leave its tiny body. Steam from its breath curled up into the air before disappearing into the cold.
Clean shot.
I’ve gotten better at this over time. Not that it says much, I’ve only been doing it for just under fifteen years. Ever since the incident, I’ve kept low. I only go into the kingdom when I absolutely need to. It wouldn’t be difficult to make the trip; with my horse, Dravok, it’s about a ninety-minute ride northwest to the nearest town. Still, distance doesn’t bring comfort. I feel like we could always be safer.
But maybe that’s my paranoia speaking; I just can't risk being found out.
These woods don’t even have a name. No one comes out this far. No soldiers, kingsmen, or even any hunters desperate enough to risk getting lost in the snow. After all, “Why look elsewhere? Your world is right here… with me.”
Yeah. With him.
I crouched and pulled the arrow free from the rabbit before tying the animal to my belt by its feet. It was small, one of the smallest I’d seen. Barely enough for a proper meal.
The best I’ve ever managed out here was a bear. By the time I found it, it was injured, and all I had to do was put it down. Not fully grown, but still. That was seven years ago. Maeve had only been three then, too young to understand what that kind of meal meant. My wife, Anya… she had been overjoyed. I brought the bear home in pieces. I told her I’d taken it down myself. She didn’t question it. Whether she believed me or not didn’t matter; she saw the food, and that was enough.
I can still hear the sounds of Maeve's adorable little laugh that night. The way she gripped onto Anya's arm, chewing more than she could swallow, as if the food would disappear if she didn't eat it quickly enough.
That was the last time we ate without worrying about the next meal.
She knows me. Better than anyone. She knows I’ll do what I must.
And I would. Every time.
They’re all I have.
The rabbit wouldn’t be enough. Not for all of us. If I were lucky, it might fill Anya for the night, but I hadn’t eaten in days. Yesterday, they had the two squirrels I managed to catch. I went without.
Maeve tried to give me some, but I rejected it.
So I stayed out longer, pushing through the cold, ignoring the ache in my limbs, for them.
But eventually, I had to turn back.
I slung my bow over my shoulder and started toward home, following the path I knew by memory. The woods were a maze to anyone else, endless snow, identical trees, but not to me. I had marked my way over the years. A carved cross on nearly every tree, cut with my dagger. The blade was crude, a stone fitted into a wooden handle, but it held.
My footprints would’ve helped too, but the snowfall was heavy. They disappeared almost as quickly as I made them.
Like I was never there.
That’s when I noticed something.
Tracks.
Not mine.
I crouched, studying them. Small, split down the middle, heart-shaped. The front came to a point, the back rounded slightly. Two narrow ovals pressed together.
A deer. Maybe a buck.
I straightened slowly.
Then, crack.
A branch snapped somewhere ahead.
I froze, then reached back and pulled an arrow from my quiver. The rabbit wasn’t enough. If I could bring down a buck… that would make this trip worth it.
Step by step, I moved forward, careful, quiet.
Through the snowfall, I saw it, a faint brown shape against the white. Its head was hidden behind a tree, but its body was exposed. Clear shot.
I dropped to one knee and drew the bowstring back, steadying my breath. Waiting.
Stillness.
Then I released my hand.
The arrow struck true.
The deer cried out, stumbling forward as blood began to spill. It tried to run, but its movements were uneven, desperate. I rose and followed, my pace quickening as its cries faded into the distance.
Whether it was getting farther… or weaker… I couldn’t tell.
Probably both.
I caught up to it not long after.
It was still alive, barely. Struggling to move, legs trembling beneath it.
I reached for my dagger and stepped closer.
Something in me hesitated.
A quiet warning.
Don’t move.
I stopped for a moment, listening to the woods, to myself. But I couldn’t afford doubt. Not now.
I pushed forward.
A sudden snarl split the silence.
A gray wolf lunged from the brush, its body streaked with snow as it crashed into the buck. Its jaws clamped around the deer’s neck.
The deer went still.
Just like that, it was gone.
My grip tightened around the dagger. Heat rushed through me, sharp and sudden.
That was mine.
But the wolf… it didn’t look at me. It didn’t care that I was there. Its focus was locked on the deer, teeth buried deep, body tense with hunger.
I’d seen wolves before.
This one was different.
There was something in its eyes, desperation. The same hunger that gnawed at me.
For a moment, I hesitated.
What did that make me?
If I killed it… was I any different?
Or was I just taking back what was mine?
There wasn’t time to decide.
I moved.
I rushed forward and drove the dagger into the back of the wolf’s neck. The impact forced it off the deer. It twisted, letting out a pained whine, its legs kicking weakly as it tried and failed to regain its footing.
I staggered back, expecting it to turn on me.
It didn’t.
It barely moved.
It had gotten what it came for. Or at least, it tried to.
Slowly, I stepped toward the buck and planted my boot against its side. I pulled my arrow free, watching as blood dripped down into the snow, staining it red.
Then I looked back at the wolf.
It lay there, struggling, its body trembling against the cold ground.
Something in my chest tightened.
Why did it have to end like this?
The deer. The rabbit. The wolf.
All of us are the same in the end. Just trying to survive.
I exhaled slowly and raised my bow.
The wolf didn’t deserve to suffer.
Not like this.
I drew the string back one final time, using the same arrow that had taken the buck.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then I let go.