Snow appearing the size of stars fell from the heavens. His feet were planted in the deep snow with his eyes turned upward toward the light gray sky as it cried frozen tears. His brown eyes reflected each flake like glass. His expression dulled with the state of the sky as he turned away, tossing his black hair that had grown down to this collar. It cast a shadow over his face, covering his eyes and framing his thin, pale face.
He had trudged days through the snow, the frosty air making him feel frozen and cold. He raised his hands to his mouth, breathing on them to warm them up. By now they had accumulated frostbite that nipped on the ends of his fingertips under thin, leather gloves. With no horse or supplies, his aching stomach and dry mouth propelled him forward in search of the next town. He had sold what he needed to in the previous town for lodging including his means of transportation. The man tugged on his black trench coat still stained in blood, not visible at first glance. Peering back the way he had come, he was alone with a long trail of footsteps in his wake.
Shaking from the cold, he reached into his coat pocket retrieving a stack of envelopes tied together with string. Each envelope had a cracked red, wax seal that used to adorn the image of a raven and half encircled by a crescent moon, belonging to the Darkwell noble family. He fished his fingers inside the envelope withdrawing a letter, reading it over again carefully. The letters contained in the stack were the only thing pushing him onward, and perhaps giving him the only reason to be living at that moment.
Scribed in inked cursive, the letters gave him insight into a life left behind, that of his own grandfather. They were a treasure left behind by his dying will. The content had strung the man along a trail he did not know the end to; a trail speaking of great power and sacrifice made on a journey to a faraway place where he was to gain power and prize. In hopes of finding it, the man had wandered many days, most without nourishment or care.
Wandering through the pine forest, he found himself leaning against a tree to catch his breath while coughing harshly into his sleeve. His lungs burned in his chest from the frigid air, and he feared he might be falling ill. Glancing around at the white surroundings, something odd caught his eye. It appeared like a lump of black not thirty feet from his spot. He cautiously moved toward it but gained haste when he saw a head of golden, curled hair accompanying it. As he approached, he could see her more clearly.
The air around her fumed with blood as the dead corpse of a girl with wavy blonde hair gowned in a black dress lay in a pool of blood in the white snow. Her eyes lacked color, now grayed from death. Deep teeth wounds littered her bare arms and legs. She was missing a fur lined boot and not far off lay a fur lined coat she may have once worn. That's not what drew the male's attention. Clasped to her neck was a cross pendant embedded with red and white stones strung on a black metal chain.
The longer he stared at it, the more it seemed to draw him in with greedy force, hands beckoning him to take it off from around her neck. His frail hand reached for the chain and he unclasped it with the hook that held it together, retrieving the necklace. His hands brushed against her neck and he could feel her body was frozen. How long she had been laying there like this, he couldn't tell.
He slipped the necklace into his pocket and remained collected, shuffling over to the fur lined coat and picked it up. Holding it up to his body, he found it was just big enough for him to wear. Though stained in the girl's blood, any extra warmth would do at this point. Slipping his slender arms into the sleeves, he buttoned the coat up and continued his way.
After he was well away from the body, the corpse lay in the cold for a few more moments before the girl slowly sat up, her head rolling about her shoulders. A sinister grin crawled across her face and a low stream of laughter hissed through her teeth. Her eyes glowed a dull green. She watched the man disappear into the trees.
"May you awaken soon, Ravathor," she giggled.
She rose to her feet, her dress swaying at her ankles. The girl staggered off into the woods, unphased by the bitter cold.
The main road came into view not thirty minutes later. Tracks from the few carriages that had passed that way kept him walking even though he was in a miserable state. By nightfall, a warm glow from a small village gave him the hope he had needed for days. His snow-soaked boots felt like lead bricks on his feet as he trekked the mile into town. The first thing he did upon entering was find a sign for an inn. In ten minutes of searching, he was in luck. Pine's Way Inn in red painted letters hung near a doorway.
He nearly scrambled inside after swinging the doorway open, finding a calm, quiet interior. Not many were about, a few travelers here and there, but he was more than grateful for the fireplace near the far wall. He didn't make eye contact with anyone but could feel eyes on him as he took a chair from a table and placed it near the fire. The orange glow from the flame melted away the ice and snow covering his clothes and he soon looked like he sat in a puddle surrounding his chair.
The sound of someone setting a stein on the table next to him drew his dark brown eyes from the fireplace and to a stout, burly woman in an apron at the table. Her cheeks were kissed in red and she had a grin, minus a few teeth. "Well hello traveler," she pipped. "Looks like you could use a drink or two, hm?"
The man stared at the stein then to the woman. "I-I don't have any money for that, so I can't accept," he said, his voice hoarse and barely there. Just talking made him start to cough in a violent fit.
"Well, I didn't ask if you had money dear. You look sick as a dog if you ask me," the woman spat and approached him, placing her warm palm on his forehead. "Despite the cold, you're burning up, dear. A woman's intuition is never wrong. What is your name?"
"Rin…" he whispered, leaning into her hand. "My name is Rin Darkwell." His eyes slid shut as the room spun and slumber took his body.
Reality came back to him when he opened his eyes again, the ceiling of a room in view in front of him. With no concept of time, he was unsure how long he had been asleep. His clothes had been stripped from his body and lay over the chair of a desk nearby. He had been gowned in a long sleeved, wool nightshirt instead.
A door to his left opened and the woman he had last seen walked in with honey and tea and a bit of an herbal mix off to the side as well as a warm damp cloth. Her eyes gleamed at the sight of Rin finally awake. "Oh, there you are, deary. We thought you were a goner for sure. It's been harsh weather thus far for the end of Nightsend, but I'm sure you know that. Winterwane is upon us soon and I can't leave you out in the cold." She placed the teacup down on a nightstand and placed the rag over his head.
Rin grunted in response and reached up to feel the fibers of the cloth. With a little help, he sat up a little in bed, resting his back on the headrest. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.
"Two days," the woman remarked. "You were out cold, hun."
"So I was," Rin remarked, sipping the tea lightly. It soothed his sore throat as he drank, making him feel better than he was.
The stout lady placed a hand on her curvy hip. "Where were you headed in weather like this? It's too cold to be traveling without a horse, ya know."
"Dalharst," Rin said simply.
"Ah, Dalharst, eh? That's six days away by foot. A horse will get you there faster," she smiled. "You might wanna rest a bit before venturing far west of here. You're in the small town of Hillford. We don't get many travelers around here. Just a small hunting town, we are."
"Very hospitable, though," Rin mused and stared down in his tea. His reflection stared at him back; worn tired eyes and messy black hair. He needed a shave as well.
"My mother would be ashamed if I didn't care for a wanderer like yourself, I'm afraid," she laughed and patted Rin on the shoulder.
The man in response leaned slightly away from her touch, staring down her hand like it was a pest. "I see. I don't suppose there would be an opportunity to earn a little around here for a few weeks. I would like to purchase another steed if I can."
"It's our slow season," the woman answered. "But, I could use a little help around the place. I know a man on the outskirts who would sell you a horse if needed."
"That sounds wonderful," Rin said, a slight smile on his face and an almost devious glint in his eyes as sipped the tea again, finishing it off.
After a few more days of rest, Rin was finally up and about, cleaning and helping cook meals for travelers passing through and staying at the inn. He eventually learned the woman's name, Adelia Dumble. The Inn was run by her and her husband who had been out on a hunting trip to resupply. Rin mostly kept quiet and focused on the tasks that he was handed. At the end of two weeks, he had earned a small wage that he used to purchase a low-end horse and enough feed to care for the creature for at least a week. He had to stay on the move and with not so much of a goodbye, he left the town that night after consuming one of the letters from his stack of envelopes.
Of all the letters he had read up to this point, this one gave him the most information. He knew by now what he was looking for.
"Your journey will be long, but it is important you keep going, Rin. I hope you will come across the key. It is critical that you find the lost kingdom, The Kingdom of Zanaih, before Albranis awakens along with King Drakhorion Flamebane and Queen Seraphina Emberwing. The blood of Ravathor's original host runs through your veins. You were chosen to be the rightful guardian god of Zaniah. If you find Albranis' host, kill him and send him back to the heavenly realm. You must hurry. He searches for the king and queen as I write. Do not linger long."