The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 43: Odwin

A constant chill seemed to follow Odwin and his newfound company, with every step they took through Southern Pass. The Valendale Mountains stood tall like Gods. And like the Gods, the mountains were unpredictable. The only thing of certainty was the cold. Odwin wore the black coat of a wolf over his shoulders, given to him from Sir Charles. It kept him warm enough to continue on, but the sting of the cold breeze still bit at his skin.

The group had been traveling for several days, after the Uri attack. They walked through the heavy snows and rocky terrain, equip with snowshoes, and warm cloaks. This included, Sir Benjamin. He had awoken from his state, the Onjin blood now coursed through his veins, but his flesh was warm and his heart strongly beating. The magic of the North now flowed through two of them.

The day was winding to an end and the sun was starting to hide behind the great peak of the Valendale Mountains. Most nights the group would travel until dusk and then make camp. None of them needed the reminder of what the lurked the Valendale after sundown. That was when the Uri moved best.

The group came across a small cavern, hidden off along the brush. It was places like this that they made camp each night, hidden and out of site. As the light of the sun began to fade, the cavern began to slip into the darkness.

"Young Odwin, do your best to keep up. This cavern, we will make camp here," Sir Charles yelled back to Odwin, who had fallen a bit behind the group. He was tired, and weak, not used to traveling through the snow. Odwin lifted his legs and churned them quickly to make up ground. As he ran towards Sir Charles, Sir Benjamin, Sir Daniel, and Sir Harold, the cold breeze seemed to follow. Its intensity increased, pushing Odwin towards the group.

Suddenly, Odwin felt a shove from the wind against his back, that sent him swirling violently into the snow. The whipping wind had become so loud, it drowned out all other sound from his ears. He lifted his head to search for the group, but his could see nothing through the swirling snow.

Odwin fought to stand. He could hardly bring himself to his knees under the heavy weight of the snow storm. Even in his wolf's skin coat, and gloves, the sting of the swift wind had numbed his entire body to its core. It continued to press down heavier and heavier upon his back, the blizzard's strength was relentless.

From his knees, Odwin's face plummeted once more into the snow, this time even deeper than the first. Not even the whirl of the wind could reach Odwin's ears, buried underneath the thick snow. He was in a place so far from life, that not even the air could reach him, and his lungs began to burn. Fear swallowed Odwin's mind and he became helpless, buried underneath the cold, heavy snow. The increasing weight of the storm pushed him further into the snowy grave and Odwin knew that his death was imminent.

Everything was lost. Odwin was to die in the snow like a wounded animal, alone and without purpose. His lungs cried out, begging for breath to fill them, but still nothing, nothing but dark, cold, and fear.

But suddenly, something broke the string of silence. Shuffling. The heavy force that pressed down upon Odwin became less as he was pulled from the darkness. Light began to break through, and slowly Odwin emerged from the snow.

The sounds of whipping wind returned to his ears and confusion plagued his mind. The air returned to his lungs, and he wiped the snow from his eyes. But the blizzard was growing stronger, and was poised to drag Odwin into a white abyss.

"Odwin! This way, boy! Make for shelter in the cavern!" It was Sir Benjamin. Odwin grasped onto the back of Sir Benjamin's coat and did his best to follow him. They ran through the storm, without any end in sight. The thick white wall of whistling wind and snow stood tall all around them, and there seemed to be no escape from the storm's torment.