Frostover 6th, 1469 Year of the Fourteenth Maned-Lord.
Konorr ran another fifteen miles.
And then five more before night fell. As much as he preferred the moon and midnight richness, he didn't enjoy night hunts.
His mother— Dara, was relentless at night. She didn't just chase after him. She killed all the wild life so he couldn't hunt and eat. She waited in the rivers— under the ice, so he couldn't cross waters to reach new territory to prepare for her advance.
Dara was a warrior in daylight.
At night she was a predator. An apex predator.
Sometime between midnight and early morning, he'd lost too much blood and spent too much energy running, resulting in him falling asleep unintentionally.
No dreams followed. Sometimes, when he dreamt, he could realize it was a dream and wake himself up before she arrived.
He wasn't so lucky this time and didn't wake until he heard her grunts as she tore up meat and let blood die the snow.
Konorr opened his eyes, rushing to sit up and locate his bow or daggers.
He had neither.
Across from him, Dara sat on a log near a fire, his weapons at her feet. In a bowl, she mixed fish meats in a herbal marinade that smelled like mint, honey and some sort of pungent root.
"You lose." She said while passing him the bowl of fish.
Konorr sighed, "Yea." He took a bite of the meat and felt his insides warm.
"I'm disappointed in you." She said without looking at him.
"I don't know why." Konorr huffed as he looked himself over. His stomach wound was stiched closed. His bruises were colder than the rest of his skin. Adequately iced. Despite sleeping and only having a bite of fish very recently, he could feel his stomachs fullness. She often fed him animal blood in his unconciousness. She said the nutrient density helped promote healing.
"You don't know why? Are you dense?" She asked.
"Are you?" Konorr shot back.
Dara looked up at him with her icy blue eyes.
"Mom, I'm fourteen. I'm a kid. You bring me out to the Untamed Lands for fourteen days at a time to try to kill you and expect me to actually do it? You can shatter trees with your bare hands, you can jump up and touch the clouds and live under frozen waters for days."
"You can do better." Dara said.
"Because I'm a Mancer like you, right?" Konorr replied.
Dara stammered.
"I'm not stupid, mom. I see the way the sky twists when you fight. There's only ever thunderstorms when you're out here. Are you trying to see if I'm the same? I don't think I am. Plus, Mancer's show magical potential in childhood…. They have Arcane Mutations. Eye color. Hair color. Horns. I'm a little late, don't you think?" Konorr replied.
Dara grunted.
Konorr shook his head. She always did that.
With a quick deep breath, Dara exhaled and blasted the fire out of existence, sending smoke and snow in Konorr's direction.
As it settled, he found her standing over him. "You're not a Mancer, boy. You're not much like me either. You're not like anyone alive. As long as you listen to your instincts, you'll understand that. Sooner than later. We're done here. Get up."
Dara didn't wait for him to catch up as she dragged along her dull great sword and bag of supplies.
Konorr got up and burried the campfire in snow before following along. But not until stuffing his face with the fish and drinking the warming marinade. He left the bowl since it was made out a long dead Winter-Mane's helmet.
They walked thirty miles. That's how long it took to get back to the city of Crymount.
It loomed above the chopped trees and faint forestry bordering. Like a mountain given shape, spires, torchlight and commerce.
They cut through the forest and reached the entrance gates where two guards waited.
Winter-Manes. They were the occupying force of Crymount. Not native to the northern lands, but deployed to uphold peace and Maned Empire values.
Winter-Mane's were Beast-Shifters. Magically adept, physically monstrous. Warriors of the highest degree. High level Mancers could kill an army of men with magic. Beast-Shifters with strong instincts could do so with four fingers and a blindfold.
The specific breed of Shifter the Winter-Mane's were was decided by their Totem.
The Puma.
Masters of the Mountain and Sound.
They could turn your brain to mush with a single scream.
So, Konorr did as his mother taught him.
He kept his head down and hands visible.
Beast-Shifters were prone to violence and fits of rage.
"State your name and purpose." The guard said as they approached the gates.
"Dara of Crymount. Arctic Herbalist and owner of Frost-Root Apothecary." Dara said.
The guards looked her up and down.
They were terrifying— even as low level guards. They wore Mane-Empire issued knights armor. A lions helm and hood— without a mane, meaning they were low ranking. They wore royal blue half-cloaks and spotless silver armor with fang-dagger gauntlets and swords of shimmering crystal. Something called Mancer's Diamond from another part of the world. It cut through everything like butter.
"You don't look much like an Herbalist." The guard to the right said. He was larger than the other and his armor was dirtier.
"To get my materials I have to travel far. Travelling far demands hunting and combative experience to defend myself and my son." Dara said simply.
"And this is your son?" The guard asked as he looked at Konorr.
Dara nodded.
"Speak, child." The guard said.
"Konorr of Crymount, apprentice Herbalist. Store up-keeper at Frost-Root Apothecary." Konorr said.
"Konorr, you get into a fight?" The guard asked as he took a step closer.
"Yes." Konorr replied.
"With who?"
"Owlbears." Dara replied.
The guard looked back to Dara, "And you…. fought it off? Unscathed?"
"It was sick already. There's a blight in the fish up north." Dara said.
The guard removed his helmet, revealing a man with features unlike Konorr or his mother. His nose was thick and his lashes were unnaturally long. He had high cheekbones and a slim jaw as well as thick brows and a bald tattooed head. His beard crawled all the way up to his eyes. He also had fangs and amber eyes that popped against the backdrop of his dark-olive skin. Many of the Maned Empire's soldiers came from somewhere called Maghrebia— they all looked similar.
"You don't smell like Owlbear or beast-blight." He said between sniffs.
He was already beginning to change. Konorr could hear the buckles of his armor popping to make way for his growing muscle and fur.
"That's because we killed the Owlbear seven days ago. We burned our gear and traveled west afterwards to avoid its children tracking us." Dara replied calmly.
But the storm clouds grew closer….
"You were in the Untamed Lands for fourteen days?" The other guard asked in shock.
"They do this all the time, you baldheaded rookies!"
Konorr looked up the dark-metal entrance gates and found a Maned-Empire archer squatted up top.
She wore lighter armor and had her hood down, revealing a long braid of dark curly hair. Technically, she was Maned. Unlike the foot soldiers she also wore a half-mask only covering the low portion of her face in what looked like the maw of a snarling sabertoothed lion.
"Dara, Konorr, welcome back home." The Archer said.
"Thank you, Archer Amara." Dara said without looking up at her.
Konorr nodded.
"Let them in, men. They've healed some of our highest ranking men more times than you've seen snowfall." Archer Amara said.
The guards awkwardly readjusted themselves and pulled the levers to open the metal doors.
"Welcome to Crymount." The previously aggresive guard said as they passed.
With that, Konorr and his mom returned home.
Crymount was massive, standing over them from all angles. Even at the cities edge.
Apartment complexes built unevenly into canyon and cliff side walls were frozen over and salted with snow. People inside worked and lived under warm light.
Much lower, armories and trading outposts selling massive frozen fish on tarps stood with merchants yelling till their throats burned.
He could smell the whools and fabrics as they passed tailors and weathering shops.
His stomach rumbled as they rushed past bars and lounges where food cooked on high heat that spilled onto the stone streets.
As they walked, a shape ran along the rooftops with pure feline agility.
As soon as Konorr noticed, she slid down a slanted rooftop of a tavern and flipped into the air, landing silently in step with Dara.
Archer Amara was small, but she didn't look slightly unnerved beside Dara— which was rare.
"Thank you for your help back there." Dara said to her.
"No problem, Dara. Our soldiers haven't seen action in many suns. They're lust for combat is turning them sour."
"Then I pray a battle comes." Dara said.
"One will." Archer Amara said.
Konorr could hear the smile behind her half-mask.
"Should we be worried?" Dara asked.
Archer Amara shook her head, "The Maned Empire doesn't lose. Our Pride remains."
Konorr had heard the phrase a billion times.
"Then what battle do you speak of?" Dara asked.
"Up north— far far north. Over thirty miles deep into the Untamed Lands, there's word of Howler Clan Mancer's venerating Canine Apexes."
Dara coughed.
Amara looked at her. "Crazy, right?"
Dara nodded, "Unusual."
"What could possibly bring the Wolf back? I mean, those Sorceror freaks have been dead for centuries. Their Apexes should've faded already. Either they've gone mad in all the ice, or we have a real problem." Archer Amara said.
"What's wrong with the Wolf?" Konorr asked as they passed an alley where Winter-Manes were beating people accused of stealing.
Archer Amara side eyed him. "Haven't you been told in school?"
"Not really." Konorr said, "They just say the Werew—"
"Don't you dare say it." Archer Amara interrupted.
Konorr almost forgot. They couldn't be named.
"Sorry. We're just told the….Wolves, tried to end the world." Konorr said.
"They're Dark-Sorceror's." Archer Amara said, "They frequently inbred and crossbred, creating Caniform breeds that resemble the owlbears that almost killed you both— grizzlies and polar-beasts. They wanted to infect the world with their rabid plague and endless hunger. They were mangy foul dogs. And if I could, I'd do more to erase them from this planet a second tim—"
"Enough." Dara spat.
Archer-Amara turned to look at her, "Excuse me?"
"My son….. he has nightmares."
"All warriors do." Archer Amara said. "Speaking of your son, he's growing quite strong. Based on the look of his boots, you traveled farther north than you're letting on."
Konorr forgot to switch shoes.
"Fuck!"
Dara didn't budge.
"I'd say twenty miles deep into the Untamed Lands. I can smell the fur of panther-seals in his soles. There's Maned soldiers that won't even go that far."
Dara kept walking. But he could almost feel her growling internally.
"That's impressive. That's a gift."
Dara stopped midwalk.
Archer Amara did the same.
"The Maned Empire confiscates all boons for the glory of the world overall." Archer Amara said.
Konorr watched the two silently as people passed. Soldiers included.
Archer Amara continued, "Konorr has been working with the bow for years now. He's accurate— I see the way he looks at the world. Like me. Looking for openings. Vantage points, breaks in armor. You can't teach that. It's instinct."
"What do you want, Archer Amara." Dara asked.
"I want to give him a chance at more than this city tucked away at the top of the world." She replied. "I want to take Konorr on the Howler Clan raid."
Dara groaned, "He has no training."
Archer Amara smiled with her cat eyes, "I don't believe you."
"He's afraid."
"He's a boy who kills owlbears and lives in the wild."
"I don't want him to go."
"The Maned Empire disregards wants for the sake of needs." Archer Amara replied.
"I—"
Before Dara could reply again, Archer Amara interrupted, "Who do you serve?"
"...the Lion."
Archer Amara took a step closer, looking up at the larger woman, "Are you sure? Because I hear hesitation. I suspect you serve yourself in these moments."
"I have…. discomforts." Dara said.
Archer Amara nodded, "That's good. Discomfort demands growth."
She turned away from Dara and approached Konorr, laying a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was like iron.
"Konorr, you will grow in this raid. I sense it. On the battlefield, we say, the Archer's Eye is the only truth, do you understand that?"
"I do…. But I don't think I'm r—"
"I just told you, the Archers Eye is the only truth. You and your mothers lies won't hold up against me. You try it again and I'll jail you both for conspiracy to mislead."
Konorr's heart raced.
"You are more than what you show, Konorr. It's my job to see what others can't. I expect you at The Puma's Maw in five days. First light. If you're late, you're jailed. If you're injured— fittingly, you're jailed. If you're anything but present and in your truth on behalf of the Lion, you're jailed. Understood?"
Konorr nodded, "Yes, Archer Amara."
Archer Amara winked— as if she didn't just threaten them with jail, "Thanks for your cooperation."
She walked backwards, eyeballing them both, "I'll see you two around. Maybe I'll stop by the shop for some tea….. mmmm… so good."
In a single bound, she was back on the rooftops, flipping and dashing deeper into the city.
Dara stood still breathing heavily for a moment.
Konorr felt his stomach turn. "Mom— I'm sorry. I know you say not to talk to the Winter-Manes unless neccesary but Archer Amara has always been so friendl—"
"Let's get home. Now."
Dara took off.
Konorr followed. Suddenly he didn't have to just worry about grueling training sessions in the Untamed Lands.
Now, he had to join the Winter-Manes in a Mancer Clan raid as a powerless teenage human.