He had never thought he would live to see such a thing. It was possible, he knew, but it was almost an unfeasible idea. At least for ones like him. He did not even imagine that there were men that had begun to prosper in this rotten world. Killing a predator, even the weakest one, was something that could happen once in a generation.

The journey was long and arduous, no matter if aided by fierce and strong animals. Although the huge wolves pulled the sleds strongly through forgotten olden paths, their travels were not safe. Far from it. Glades, forests, and plains, all were as dangerous.

While carried on a sled, powerless to aid their fast march, he could only listen to his surroundings, past their rapid steps and the faint grunts of the canines. The strangers had trained their hounds to be silent, or perhaps the animals had learned that naturally in their survival. It was not their snarls what he noticed in the distance. Something had begun to trail their moves when they ventured towards those mountains.

Multiple fledglings sensed their stride through the lush lands. His friends were alarmed by that fact as much as him. While following, none could understand how the soldiers could be so calm. Those things had smelled them due to the size of the group, and they began to chase them, waiting for a chance to pounce. That, some did, inevitably.

The five believed everything to be over when four vampires bolted down a cliffside in the middle of the night, right when they settled camp for the first time in their new journey. Swift as a feline, they used their huge claws to descend towards them in a blink. They were sure that one of them would be fed on and killed, because they did not believe yet in the skills of these men. In their minds, humans were weak, incapable of matching such voracity.

Those beliefs were not unfounded. Ages had passed since humanity could challenge those monsters. There was little to wield against them. That was why their heartbeats fastened again, not due to fear, but wonder. Their blood was not spilled to evade the creatures.

The mobile ballista was ineffective against fast and relatively small targets. The sight of the shadowy figures made some soldiers tense, but not falter. They knew their traits, their resistance to fire, so they unsheathed their swords and stuck together in front of the sleds, much like the five had done by a river.

These scouts had not seemed too concerned about what lurked in the dark, but it was a mere façade. When the beasts lunged from the shadows, it only took one second for them to bolt into formation. Samir and Cyrus were pushed aside when they tried to join them; they could only watch despondently while the men displayed an aptitude for combat that few ever attained.

The way in which those blades were swung made them all shudder. When paired with the quality of the metal, they did something that no lone wanderer ever saw. Torin was the first to growl and step forth towards the four beasts. When his mace came down, it managed to crack the thick scaled cranium of a fledgling that tried to taste his blood.

It did not die with that first hit, but it was dazed. Due to their endurance and feral ways, it was easy for humans to forget that the diseased were also mortal. The monsters seemed to overlook that fact too in their hunger, and their new wounds only muddled their already clouded thoughts.

A few men delayed joining the defensive formation; in their setback, they untied more hounds from the sleds. The animals rushed and met the few who were always loose, quickly circling and biting onto the limbs of the vampires. A clash between predators was unleashed; their hunger was unparalleled, but still conflicting. 

It took a while, but those fledglings eventually tried to flee, never managing a bite past the swings of sword and fierce strikes of the wolves. They had been wounded in their obstinacy, and that spelled their ruin.

Swords were not the only weapons that were carried. Cyrus admired the way in which two archers fired arrows, not to kill or pierce those beasts, but to light aflame the area where they tried to stagger to.

The forests were set alight again with the oiled ammo and a precise shot from the ballista, even if this variant of vampire was impervious to fire. As the flames rose rapidly over them and their path was blocked, something unanticipated happened.

The four considered these scaled monsters to be immune to flames, dissimilar to all other abominations. They were wrong; it was not immunity, but resistance. Their thick black hides were torn and pierced; their feeble inner flesh was exposed. And so, when they tried to retreat through the wall of fire, the smoke and heat seeped into their wounds.

Never had they heard a vampire screech in such ways. The manner in which they shrieked in pain and shock was incomparable to the wails they let out in their most desperate of hungers. Their inhuman minds had forgotten the dangers of fire with the passage of time, and no one had been able to remind their lineage of its lethality. 

Torin laughed that night, towering over the flames and crumbling figures. They kept kindling the thickets, circling the weak staggering of their assaulters. The vampires tried to go away, but they were blocked constantly and kept inside the smoking blaze, by swords, arrows, or claws.

They were still alive and twitching on the ground when the soldiers moved away. Only a few wolves waited to maul their charred bodies. No man ever felt sympathy for a beast such as them, because the changes an infected suffered were swift and drastic, inhuman. They let them turn to ash and dust slowly, without bothering to pierce their thick skins again to reach their hearts.

The tall buff chief strode through the crowd like if nothing, but there was clear relief on his expression. As he passed them by towards his personal tent, he whispered some words that made them shiver and stay quiet.

“Let’s pray we don’t come across an elder of this variant. We are not unfamiliar with reluctant sacrifices…”

Samir and Cyrus stepped closer to Nestor and the sled he laid on, noticing that Torin had said that while eyeing his leg. There was no hate in that implication, and they loathed the fact that it was completely logical and common. If such a beast trailed them, they would need to leave someone behind to distract it; no wounds or fire would make it relent.

Nestor had intended to sacrifice himself by that river. He was willing to die for them in a heartbeat. However, he could not help but pray every day and night while they traveled that no elder would sense them, much less one so dangerous. 

He had no name for God; he did not even know what he prayed to. Nonetheless, his silent pleas seemed to be answered. A few more beasts sensed their scent during the journey, but they were no ancient monstrosities.

Two men perished to fierce slashes of claw, one needed to be put down while his neck bled due to a bite. Such losses were mourned greatly, but they did not seem to make the strangers reconsider their protective retreat. Whatever prowled in the ruins they had been headed for worried them more than anything they could face in the wilds.

It took more than a week for them to reach those homelands. The sudden attacks, the forced cremations of foe and friend, the way in which the forestry terrain hindered the hounds’ march… it all slowed them down. The world was vast, but not endless, however.

The awaited sight was preceded by a harsh gradual twist in the air, a growing piercing coldness over them. Each day they needed more furs to shield themselves from exposure, in areas they had never explored. The men were unfazed by such changes, like if they were approaching the warmest of fireplaces. 

Gereon was the only one who had seen snow. When the snowflakes began to descend from the sky, Cyrus could not help but tense and look all around, believing he was seeing ashes in the wind. The old man laughed, and that was everything Samir needed to determine it was a natural occurrence, unlike the blond. 

Cyrus only stopped scowling and looking for a distant fire when Alma stuck her tongue out and caught a snowflake. Judging by how she didn’t try to spit it out, it was certainly not ash. Still, he did mutter a faint expletive when Samir teased his unneeded wariness, reminding him of the anecdotes that Gereon would always narrate in their hideouts.

When the mountains began to fade into view on the horizon, the soldiers needed to tell them to keep their pace, because they slowed down in their wonder and bafflement. Those summits were as white as the clouds of a clear summer sky; snow covered them, dressing their entire mass and the valleys at their feet. Between those grand heights flowed many rapid torrents, which they could hear from the distance.

The landscape was not one to settle in. There were no ruins or remnants of the olden civilization, unlike other regions. Only robust drifters could perhaps thrive here, there was no forage or sustenance to find in the snowy wastes ahead. The uneven terrain would make hunting and fishing difficult, and even a chase for a rabbit could end in a deadly fall.

Torin did not share the same grim outlook. When they set foot at the edge of a valley and admired the view, he took a deep gratified breath. He and his subordinates had not only brought five more lives home but also resources. Before crossing paths, they gathered food and herbs, which they piled on their reliable sleds.

The chief set a hand over his eyes to block the sun and observed the towering paths of the cliffs, wondering if another scouting group would traverse them as well in their return. After all, he and his men were not the only ones who ventured away from the mountains to provide their people with all needed supplies.

Nestor never stopped eyeing Torin through the journey. He kept quiet to not disturb the rider of his sled, but a million questions prowled in his mind. People like him did not have the means to traverse the world in this way. These hounds had allowed them to cross a border between what had been two neighboring nations, a distance they would not have dared to travel in a lifetime.

The snow would slow down any traveler on foot. When the wolves pulled onto it, they did not seem bothered at all. In fact, they stopped having to impose their strength and size, finding themselves lighter. The sleds slid easily on the snow, no longer dragged by raw force.

All men proceeded to set one foot onto the sides of the slender sleds, stopping marching along with them. They held onto the small poles on their flanks, hanging by them to be dragged along with the cargo. Cyrus stumbled and stammered a bit when he mimicked the soldiers, while Samir managed to hold on with ease, not as apprehensive of the wolves and their fierce pull.

Nestor’s heart filled with joy when Alma sat by his side on his sled, grinning brightly while they tried to make the best of the small space. He looked into her eyes while she observed the hounds, rising cliffs, and mountainous paths. There was not a single hint of a predator lurking between the rocky formations, not one claw mark on the snow apart from the ones of the wolves.

They had not arrived yet at the meeting point the soldiers mentioned, and yet, he felt safe. He had never seen Gereon smile this genuinely, nor Samir and Cyrus breathe out at real ease. What he was feeling sure had to be what many had called bliss. There was only one thing he regretted… Luce not being able to feel it.

That notion slowly tainted his emotions. Anger seeped again into his heart, not only for his weakness and powerlessness, but due to the beings that threatened all that he loved. He pictured blood pouring again, this time on the clear white snow. It was a haunting and unstoppable thought. No words Alma said could snap him out of it, even if he smiled at her with the same apparent joy. She had to be feeling something similar, and they both hid it proficiently.

It took one more day for them to ascend to the middle point of a mountain. When the wolves began to slow down by a big pond below a huge bluff, all tensed. Torin gave a command for them to halt like they had done before to set camp, and that made them dread that they would need to go past multiple peaks to reach their destination.

That was not the case. There was a huge waterfall at the end of the pond; if an eagle were to gaze down from the skies, they would seem insignificant by its unending strong flow. Its altitude was so remarkable that the falling water caused a lot of fog while it hurtled into the loch.

The men relaxed visibly and began to walk towards the bluff and water, intruding into the mists. They left the sleds behind, even untying some of the hounds. Torin turned to face them with a gentle smile, aware of their disorientation. The words he said next heralded the great wonder they would soon feel.

“We’re home.”

With that, he turned again and marched strongly towards the waterfall. It was only when two wolves ran over some rocks by its side that they noticed that they were not standing in a dead end. The water concealed it but there was a dark passage behind the fierce stream, a hollow in the bluff.

That prompted Cyrus to bolt forth, the one who most wished to ensure that soldier’s promises were true. Such impatience was not due to his usual untrustful wariness but hope as well. Alma was the one to help Nestor to his feet, not having much trouble holding his weight. His leg had started to heal, and he could now walk with a small limp. He let out a murmur, whispering wearily.

“I’ve never seen a waterfall this grand.” He remembered the one they had been ready to jump from, and that one was intimidating enough. “Can barely see through this fog.”

She took a deep breath while they advanced behind the crowd, enjoying the scent of the snow and cold breeze.

“Considering how it may hinder those beasts as well, that’s a good thing. But do mind your step, Nestor.” She helped him move past the rocky ground, each step taking them a bit closer to the mouth of the cavity. “The last thing we need is you falling into the pond and getting sick. We’re almost there. I can’t believe we might truly be…”

It was hard to mutter the word safe. That hollow was dark, and they had learned to tread into each shadowy hole with great caution. The humidity of its interior did not make them feel comfortable. When they finally pushed behind the roaring stream over some rocks, they had the chance to gaze upon the hideout.

Icicles hanged everywhere in the mouth. They shook regularly with the force of the stream, threatening to fall onto them at any moment. It was due to the coldness of the air and moisture that they were kept in a constant looming state.

The two frowned, noticing that they had to trudge down a long rocky path in the dark. The hollow sunk into the earth and mountain. Only a small flow of water managed to course through the tunnel, but it did trickle down into its bigger depths. There was a small glint of light in the shadows, one that all could see.

Torin had been pleased by how Gereon matched his pace all this time, even if old. For his aptitude, he felt fortunate to welcome him and his companions into their main retreat, the lair they most frequented in their travels through the mountains.

“We all watch the stars to know where to meet and settle in each period.” He laid a hand over his chest, meeting his eyes kindly. “You’ve arrived just in time to gaze upon our safest haven, friend.”

Sometimes they set camp in the valleys by digging burrows into the snow, in other occasions, they rested by rivers and cliffs where no beast could take them by surprise. This place was the one they most frequented in the coldest of seasons, somewhere where they could gather for a longer span of time without risking their necks.

Gereon truly admired their unconventional ways, and he did not doubt to express it while some wolves ran past them down the path.

“Safety does not come without a cost.” He smiled faintly, having noticed that many of the men had scars, not due to the clawing of vampires. “These mighty hounds are not easy to tame, I bet.”

“No, they aren’t. However, prove your strength and intelligence in order to challenge their hunger, and you gain their loyalty for a lifetime. They provide us as much as we grant them. Trust is not easy to come by, and I truly hope we can earn yours.”

Of course, behind Torin’s fierce appearance, hid a very ingenious soul. He noticed well the way in which Gereon and Samir hid their caution, much more concealed than the one of Cyrus.

“You have shielded us and guided us here when we have little to offer in return.” Samir interjected, keeping close behind them. “We can’t be faulted for questioning such generous gestures.”

Torin had a very gruff voice, and yet, he worded himself calmly and carefully.

“My people wouldn’t be here without unrestricted altruism. Selflessness is a trait that may hinder one, sure, but it can help many. Self-interest only leads to solitude and the eventual death of all who may have survived in companionship.” He smiled, sympathetic towards the one who limped behind the crowd due to devotion. “I am quick to judge, and I always lend my hand to those I consider favorable. You five do not stick together due to resigned need. My edict was evident; your usefulness shall present itself naturally in our community.”

Cyrus had dashed ahead, the first to reach a small turn in the tunnel. When he set eyes on what laid past it, he stopped immediately between the soldiers who walked around him. It did not take long for the others to catch up, and none failed to freeze like him.

Nestor did not falter when Alma’s hold on him faltered. The five looked down the small edge, at the big grotto. Many sounds had echoed to them in the path above, but they were not able to pinpoint them until they saw their origins with their very eyes.

They were staring at a big camp. At least a hundredth humans roamed in it, a number they had never imagined possible. Big groups always made sure to scatter and keep themselves divided, yet here stood uncountable tents and small alcoves. Torches illuminated every single cranny of the cavity, allowing them to see some miners, the secluded wooden huts that housed the wolves, and the big campfire that acted as the core of the base.

This was no camp, but almost a settlement. Although there was a sled and some wolves for each family, it was evident that they did not wander through the mountains as much as their fighters. Only when the time came did they leave for other locations. The figures below seemed to see this cavity as a home, moving through it with fond intimacy.

Torin patted Samir’s and Cyrus’ backs in a friendly manner, ignoring their bafflement at the sight of children and wives greeting their husbands and fathers. Somewhere, a baby cried in a tent, something that always needed to be silenced to survive.

“I welcome you to Clawgulf, what our leader insists to call our capital. It is no city or village, yet he feels the need to impose such names.”

“C-capital?” Nestor leaned his head with a frown, not knowing the term. “What is a capital?”

The buff man laughed, seeing that the young lad was the only one to dare ask, even if all shared the same wonder.

“Ah, forgive me. We do not only gather lives and resources here, but also knowledge. Your kind never has the chance or pleasure to reach for records or archives.” Torin glanced sideways, noticing a figure step out of the biggest tent in the center of the base. “That is about to change.”

Nestor’s eyes glinted when he also spotted the man below. With more beard than face, he stepped shakily out of his tent, to then gaze up at the edge where they stood. There were things in his arms, which he dropped hastily once he saw Torin.

While the scruffy old fellow did his best to reach them with a huffy step, all observed the items he amassed. Many books laid scattered around and inside his tent, almost his only possessions. They could see some strange instruments in there, ones that they could not recognize as alchemical tools.

It was not only strength and familiarity that had allowed these humans to assemble so daringly. Intelligence had let them prosper, and Torin could not help but salute the craftiest of them with reverence.

“Hello, father.” The man had finally managed to step up the path to the edge, insignificant below Torin, who had bowed a little. They were nothing alike, and the five quickly noticed that their bond was not due to blood. “I apologize for my untimely return.”

The man opened his mouth below his extremely long white beard, reaching with a hand to lay it on his protegee.

“Torin, I thought you would be in those forsaken ruins by now!” The tone was not scolding but caring, baffled perhaps. He took a moment to realize there were strangers nearby, and he eyed them with the same surprise. “Ah! So, this is why…”

Torin nodded and motioned at them with a hand, something that prompted Gereon to step forth with his usual politeness.

“We found them near those lakes. Of course, we couldn’t let them mirror our dangerous endeavor. As by your teachings, I decided to return and bring them to safety.”

“And we are all ever thankful for it.” Gereon held his staff a little tighter, discerning a sly thoughtfulness in the man’s eyes. “How may I call the one who leads this sanctuary?”

The man laughed like Torin tended to do, making his long beard and tied hair wobble. However, he was much brisker and sardonic than his pupil, something that took Samir and Cyrus aback.

“Agh, lead is a very strong word. Everyone just asks for my say in their affairs, that is all. They believe me to be a sage when I’m only a cultured man.” He put his arms behind his back and began to walk back towards the tents, inviting them to follow with a sigh. “You can call me Alvis, as all do. Come, I will answer your endless questions, for I have a few of my own.”

Alma and Nestor exchanged a look, having noticed the harsh implication of those last words. It sounded more like a demand than a suggestion. Still, no one doubted to follow his slow march towards the tents, feeling the gaze of the whole community on them.

They were all strangers, yet there was an expectancy in the air, both from them and the nomads. New bonds would be enforced, in a more much mutual exchange than first pondered.