The wind was merciless.
Snow whipped across the valley like shards of glass, slashing against Darwin Elkevis' cheeks as he stood before the mansion gates one last time. The towering iron doors, engraved with the crest of the Elkevis household, slowly groaned shut behind him.
*Thud.*
The echo of the gate closing struck harder than the cold ever could.
Darwin stood motionless, a small bag slung over his left shoulder. The bag was light—pathetically so—holding nothing but a loaf of bread, a bottle of cheap alcohol, some matchsticks, and a thin blanket.
That was all his parents believed he deserved.
He didn't turn back. He didn't dare.
He didn't want to see the look on his parents' faces—relief, annoyance, maybe even disgust—now that their "defective son" was finally gone.
The snow crunched beneath his boots as he took his first step away from home.
And then another.
And another.
The world around him was a blur of white and gray.
Blizzard Valley was always cold, but today the chill sank deeper into his bones than ever before.
Darwin adjusted the strap of his bag, his left hand tightening around it. His right shoulder—empty where an arm should have been—shifted uselessly under his cloak. The fabric dipped slightly on that side, a constant reminder.
The imbalance in his body followed every movement.
His breath fogged in the air as he walked.
A strange numbness spread through his chest, different from the cold.
Not sadness.
Not yet.
Just emptiness.
"…Grandpa," he whispered into the wind.
His voice cracked faintly.
"If you were here… what would you say?"
But Damisk Elkevis, the only person who ever looked at him with pride, with warmth—
was gone.
His death had been the beginning of Darwin's end.
Without Damisk's protection, his parents' disappointment turned into indifference… and then into rejection.
Darwin kept walking, snow rising to his knees.
He didn't know where he was going.
He only knew he couldn't stay anywhere near the household.
Not with beasts roaming the valley.
Not with his body in this state.
Not when he was alone.
The wind howled louder, pushing against him.
He clenched his teeth and marched forward.
Every step felt like a challenge.
Every breath, a struggle.
Time passed—minutes or hours, he wasn't sure.
Blizzard Valley distorted time with its relentless cold.
Eventually, the snowfall thinned enough for him to see the faint outlines of distant mountains.
*Quake Mountains… Hemlatte's territory… Tempest Plains…*
Any direction could lead to safety…
Or death.
Darwin swallowed hard.
His legs already trembled with exhaustion.
"I need a place… to rest," he muttered.
And that was when he heard it.
**A deep, guttural growl.**
The kind that vibrated through the air.
Darwin froze.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Two red eyes glowed through the snowfall.
A massive silhouette lumbered forward, its fur coated with shimmering frost. The creature's breath came out as white mist, its teeth large enough to crush bone.
A spiritual beast of Blizzard Valley—
**Ice Hound.**
Darwin's heartbeat spiked.
"…No… no, no—"
The beast roared.
Darwin ran.
He didn't think.
He didn't plan.
He just **ran**.
The ground shook behind him as the Ice Hound charged, its heavy paws thundering across the snow. Darwin's boots slipped on the icy ground, his imbalance nearly throwing him sideways with every step. His left arm pumped desperately, but his right side remained dead weight.
*I can't die here… I can't die here!*
He pushed forward with everything he had.
The Ice Hound's roar cut through the storm like a blade. Darwin felt its icy breath on his neck.
"Please—please—someone—anyone—!"
He stumbled—
And agony tore across his back.
*SLASH!*
The beast's claws raked into him, tearing through cloak, skin, and muscle.
Darwin screamed as his body twisted and crashed into the snow.
The cold bit into the fresh wound, sending fiery pain through his spine.
His vision blurred.
His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.
The Ice Hound approached slowly, savoring the hunt.
Darwin's fingers twitched in the snow.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't run.
*Is this… where I die? Abandoned… forgotten… worthless…?*
The beast growled, lowering its massive head.
Darwin shut his eyes.
The Ice Hound lunged—
And the world exploded into white.
A massive gust of wind roared across the valley, the blizzard intensifying. Snow swept between Darwin and the beast like a living wall. The Ice Hound hesitated, confused by the sudden shift in wind and scent.
Darwin didn't waste the miracle.
He crawled—
then stumbled—
then forced himself to run again, deeper into the storm.
He didn't know where he was going.
He just knew the beast wasn't chasing him anymore.
The storm swallowed him whole.
His strength fading, he spotted a dark gap in the rocky mountain wall ahead.
A cave.
He collapsed inside, body trembling violently.
Pain wracked every part of him, but he forced trembling fingers into his bag.
The bottle of cheap alcohol.
The matchsticks.
He gathered what little dry grass and broken twigs he could find.
His breath shook as he poured alcohol over the small pile.
He struck a match.
*Fsshh—*
The flame flickered—
Then caught.
Warmth spread slowly, pushing away the cold that clung to his bones.
Darwin curled near the fire, hugging his knees, shaking from pain and exhaustion.
Tears slid down his pale cheeks.
"…Grandpa… I'm scared…"
The fire crackled softly.
Darwin's eyelids grew heavy.
"…stay with me… just… a little…"
The warmth lulled him.
His breathing slowed.
His vision blurred—
And he drifted into sleep.
Into a long forgotten memory.