Thalos shifted beneath heavy furs, laying in the stillness of the morning. The cold was already there. It clung against the walls of the houses, stretched its fingers through the narrow streets, and turned every moment brittle with its touch.
Above the door an antler pulsed faintly in a stone cradle, casting streaks of blue across the floor and ceiling. The hum was always there, a low steady sound that was almost comforting. His breath turned into soft white mist above him. Outside the village was waking. He could hear the crunch of boots against the snow, the creaking of wagon wheels struggling with their weight. For a long moment he did not move.
The warmth of the blanket was the only thing stopping the cold from engulfing him, but the day had begun and it would not wait. He exhaled and shoved back the furs, wincing as the cold wrapped around him. His feet hit the stone floor with a sting, sending shivers up his spine. He moved quickly, grabbing his clothing that lay in a small woven basket, The wool of his tunic was rough against his skin, the cold seeping through small holes that have been mended over countless times. It carried the scent of pine and smoke.
As he pulled the ties of his cloak into place, he caught his reflection in a shard of polished metal hanging by the door. His gray eyes, the color of smoked ice, stared back at him beneath dark, tangled hair that never seemed to lie flat. His face was still lean and unblemished by youth, though the angles had begun to sharpen as he neared his fifteenth year. He was slim and agile, he was never broad like Orin or tall like Garrick, but he was quick. And he was happy with that.
He slung his satchel over his shoulder, his fingers brushed on the worn leather strap that was about to break. His gaze drifted to the window. Well the closest thing Frosthelm had to one. Glass was a luxury of the old world, something that never made it here. Instead, stretched hides covered most openings, just thick enough to block the wind but thin enough to let in small rays of sunlight. Others like this one, were made from the translucent threads of the Frostwidow spider, woven into delicate sheets of ice-silk. The material shimmered faintly, catching the light and filtering it through in light blue streaks, it was thin but durable and it did surprisingly well at holding back the wind and the cold.
He watched through the window as a small group of hunters passed by, bows slung across their backs, and further back a group of children darting between the houses, Frostfoxes in toe. Obviously up to no good. Thalos smiled, as he turned back to the door. Today will be another lesson, another story of the past. Before we lived in the north, when we lived alongside the other races. And how the other races tried to kill us. Mistress Elwen would tell it the same way she always did, like she was daring anyone to look away from her.
A voice called from the other side of the doorway, toward the main room. "Thalos!"
His mother. She always calls when he sleeps in. He pushed through the hanging furs of the doorway and into the warmth of the common room. Smoke was rising from the fire on the other end of the room, with the scent of meat and fresh herbs. The entire common area was lit up by small antlers that were hung up by leather straps.
Liriel stood at the table, slicing dried meat into strips, her hands moving with the motions of someone who has done this thousands of mornings before. A few strands of hair fell from her dark braid, streaked with silver that shone under the soft blue light. She glanced up as he stepped in. Her hazel eyes pressing on him for an answer.
"S..sorry I slept in again" Thalos always felt embarrassed, recently he hasn't felt as motivated as he usually did. He would sleep in, and end up late to class. Worst of all, he would avoid his father and not help cutting the wood for the fire.
Without a word she reached for a leather pouch, She wrapped the meat inside, then added a small round of hunters loaf, packed with dried fish, root mash, and just enough fat to hold it together. It wasn't pleasant but it was filling. She folded a cloth, and placed it into his satchel.
"For later" she then sighed "please try not to cause trouble again today, your father needs help with the fletching" Thalos avoided eye contact "I know. I know, I promise" she gave him a knowing look "at least try to help your father today" He ducked out avoiding the conversation, it was making him uncomfortable, but only because he knew he should be helping.
He felt the cold the moment he stepped outside, the wind stung against his face as he pulled his cloak tighter. In the distance, the wilds surrounded Frosthelm, their green fading to black where the light could no longer reach. And beyond that the mountains stood tall, Their jagged peaks reaching into the sky. His father warned him again last night. The wolves had been acting strange recently, not just the single wolf creeping to the village's border or the hunting packs stalking the hunters in the forest. Rumors were spreading, men spoke in low voices about strange sightings, and unusual animal activity. He tried to ignore it and to move on, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the forest.
As he walked down the streets thick smoke came from chimneys in homes, nearby rows of traders set up their stalls, their voices calling to those who walked by. "You there! You look cold, want a Frostwolf cloak?" He walked past "Hey! Thalos, we just got a supply of fresh meat! Come have a look" He smiled and wished the man a good day "Hey young man you look like you are in need of a fine sword" His gaze hovered on that sword a moment longer than he meant to, and now the trader was presenting him with swords, knives, daggers, and anything else Thalos might look at. "No thank you!" Thalos said as he sped up. He knew most of them, and sometimes he caved, and bought items from them. Usually he would fight against the urges and ignore them.
Thalos watched as he passed an artisans stand, a middle aged man was working on carving a small antler, Its glow flickered and died. "Bad omen when the light fades" He whispered to himself. A pair of tamed Frostfoxes darted out from under the stand. One came to a stop near Thalos's feet, its pale blue eyes tracked his every move, it flicked its ears and bounded off again. He always found them amazing, skittish and cunning, but extremely loyal, for him it was their eyes, he always thought there was something extremely intelligent behind their eyes, and one day he wanted a Frostfox of his own.
Ahead a team of Snowstriders moved through the square, their long legs moving on the icy ground with ease. They carried piles of logs and stone behind them on sleds and wagons, their antlers glowing blue and pulsing with every step they took. Thalos didn't think much of the blue glow, it was with him since he was born, it was just another part of Frosthelm. One of the drivers walking beside them gave a low command, tapping the lead Snowstrider's side, and it responded immediately. They were docile creatures, easy to command and teach, but Thalos had seen them refuse to move when people mistreated them, their black eyes just watching the handlers every move.
As the caravan passed, he heard their hushed voices "More have gone missing." "Can't we do anything?" Thalos slowed his walking as the two hunters guarding the caravan went by. "The elders need to give us the order to do something." "Yeah... more people are going missing. To think Snowfairies would show up here." "This is…" The hunters were too far away for him to hear now.
snowfaries? This wasn't the first time he had heard that name. What was going on in Frosthelm? He was still lost in thought, slowly watching the glowing antlers of the Snowstriders passing. When someone yelled out to him. "You're walking like an old man! No wonder you're always late!"