Episode 7: Beneath the Frozen Roots
964 Words
Episode 7: Beneath the Frozen Roots
[Kael]
The wind had stopped screaming, but the silence was worse.
It was the kind of silence that didn’t just hush the world—it pressed against your bones, made you feel like an intruder in your own skin. I'd learned to live in the cold, trained in it, survived it. But here, the snow didn’t just fall—it watched.
My boots sank into a frostbitten marsh as I climbed toward the ridge, the icy muck sucking at my steps. Every instinct told me to turn back. But instincts be damned—they weren’t the ones with Selene’s name carved into cursed bark.
Three days. That’s how long I’d been tracking the symbols left behind. The runes twisted more the deeper I went. Now, there were no more symbols. Just bones. Dozens of them, strewn like offerings beneath the jagged roots of dead trees. Some human. Some wolf.
One skull stared up at me with frozen sockets. Its teeth were still clenched. A broken pendant dangled from its neck—half of the crescent moon symbol of the Northern Crescent pack.
They’d come here before.
And died.
I crouched beside it. The bones were clean—too clean. Something had picked them over and left the rest to rot.
Something smart.
A crunch behind me.
"Your blood stinks of fear, hunter."
The voice slithered from the trees.
Low. Female. Mocking.
I rose slowly, hand gripping the hilt of my blade.
"And yours stinks of rot," I said without turning.
A soft laugh. "Oh, Kael. Still the brooding one. You haven’t changed much."
Only one being would dare use my name out here with that tone.
"Neris," I said flatly.
She stepped into view, draped in dark leathers and shadow. Her hair was longer now, knotted with bones and feathers. She hadn’t aged a day.
"You followed the runes. You always were curious."
"What do you want?"
"To warn you."
I snorted. "Since when do sirens give warnings instead of curses?"
Her smile faded.
"He knows her, Kael. The Moon-Eater. He dreams of her every night. And the closer she gets to you, the more awake he becomes."
"Why her?"
Neris shrugged. "Because your blood touched hers. Because the old pact was broken. Because fate is cruel. Pick one."
I didn’t have time for riddles. "What does he want with her?"
She stepped closer, her eyes pale and eerie like moonstone. "He wants to burn the bond you’ve buried. And she is the match."
I clenched my jaw. "Then I’ll kill him before that happens."
"You can’t kill what was never alive," she whispered.
And then she vanished into ash.
---
I kept walking until the sun died.
Night in the Frostlands was a beast all its own. The cold didn’t just bite. It gnawed. Chewed. Swallowed your warmth and whispered lies in your ear until you started to believe you’d never been warm at all.
I stumbled into a clearing.
Blood.
Smears of it—across bark, on stone. Still warm.
I followed it through the gully and found the source: a young rogue slumped against a boulder, bleeding from a gash across his ribs. His eyes were wild with pain, but clearer than most.
"Help me... please..."
Rogues weren’t meant to sound like this. They were usually growling, snarling, foaming.
But this one was different.
"Who did this to you?"
He coughed blood. "Not who. What. The Pale One."
"The Moon-Eater?"
He shook his head violently. "No. His Herald. She walks ahead of him. Carving names into trees. Names of those he wants."
My stomach twisted. "Is Selene one of them?"
He nodded. "First on the list."
Then he went still.
I stood frozen until the air around me moved again.
Then I buried him. Built a pyre. Watched it burn.
Not for him. For the heat.
I sat beside it, jaw tight, heart hammering.
Selene didn’t know what was coming.
She didn’t know what I was keeping from her.
And when she found out, I feared I wouldn’t just lose her trust—I’d lose her entirely.
---
Hours later, I kept moving.
The frost had deepened. My coat was stiff with it. The blade on my back sang with tension. Something was near.
I stepped into the next glade, and there she was.
The Herald.
She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t monstrous. She was... nothing.
Blank eyes. Skin pale as death. Hair that moved like water even without wind. She held a bone knife in one hand, and the other— the other carved names into the bark of a dying tree.
She didn’t look up when she said, "She dreams of you. Even now."
"Selene has nothing to do with your god."
"She has everything to do with him," she said calmly. "He whispers through her veins. You just can’t hear it yet."
I lunged.
Steel met bone.
But she vanished before I could draw blood, and the forest folded in on itself like a closing hand.
I hit the ground, dizzy. The air was wrong. My vision spun.
"You can’t kill what was never alive," the wind whispered.
I crawled to the edge of a root-cloaked hollow and collapsed.
When I woke, the name Selene had been carved into the skin of my forearm.
No blood. Just scarred into me, like I’d been born with it.
And above me, the stars shifted. Slowly. Deliberately.
---
I didn’t go back that night.
I stayed in the woods, sharpening my blade. Sharpening my resolve.
The Moon-Eater wasn’t coming. He was already here.
And I had to decide if I could still protect her... without loving her.
Because if I let that feeling bloom, it would burn her alive.
And I would never forgive myself.
---
- Writer
