The fire crackled as the hooded figure stepped fully into the clearing, the warmth of the flames seeming to retreat from his presence. The air grew colder with each passing moment, as if winter itself had followed this stranger into the heart of the forest. His pale face emerged from beneath the hood, revealing piercing ice-blue eyes that seemed to freeze the very soul of anyone who dared meet his gaze. His short blond hair glistened faintly in the firelight, and his athletic yet lean figure moved with the precision of a hunter.
The immortals remained silent, wary of this unsettling newcomer. Aurelia, her golden eyes glowing with suspicion, clenched her fists, fire flickering faintly at her fingertips. Thalos stood still, unbothered by the cold but ever vigilant, while Nyssa's hand instinctively drifted toward her weapon, ready for a fight if needed. Lucius, as always, observed quietly, his mind already calculating.
The figure stepped closer to the fire, though it seemed to have little effect on him. He spoke with a voice as cold and detached as the air around him. "I am Eirik Vandell. I have wandered this world for 2,800 years, and I see you are not so different from me."
Lucius tilted his head, intrigued by this new arrival. "Another immortal. What brings you here, Eirik?"
Eirik's ice-blue eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Fate, perhaps. Or maybe the wind simply carried me in your direction. But I sense that we are alike—bound to this earth by forces we may never understand. My story is as long and cold as the winters I have known. Would you hear it?"
Aurelia leaned forward, still wary. "Tell us, then. But be quick about it."
Eirik remained unbothered by her impatience and began to speak, his words slow and deliberate.
"I was once a chieftain of a Viking clan, a warrior born in the northern seas. Our raids were legendary—we conquered, pillaged, and thrived in the harsh winters that others feared. I led my men with strength, precision, and no small amount of cunning. The seas were our kingdom, and the world, our prey."
Nyssa, who knew the thrill of battle herself, raised an eyebrow. "You were a raider, then? And how did you come to be… this?"
Eirik's expression darkened. "One winter, we ventured far to the north, further than any clan had dared. There, buried deep in the heart of a glacier, we found something ancient—an artifact, shimmering beneath the ice. My men wanted to leave it, but I could feel its power. I broke the ice and took it."
Thalos, ever the voice of reason, asked, "What was it?"
Eirik's gaze turned icy. "A curse. It granted me immortality, but at a terrible price. From that moment on, I felt the warmth drain from my body. I no longer felt the cold, nor did I feel anything at all—emotion or otherwise. My men saw the change in me, and soon, they feared me. I outlived them all, as I have outlived every ally, every enemy, every soul I've known since."
Aurelia's fiery presence contrasted sharply with his frostbitten aura. "And you've been wandering ever since?"
Eirik nodded. "Yes. I wander, seeking meaning, seeking perhaps a way to break this curse. But the world is cold to me now. People, battles, kingdoms—they all pass by like winter winds. I've seen empires rise and fall, and yet here I remain, unchanged."
Lucius, ever the strategist, leaned in. "And what do you seek, Eirik? After 2,800 years, what do you desire now?"
Eirik's gaze grew distant. "Perhaps I seek warmth. Not of the body, but of the soul. Or perhaps I seek an end to my wandering. But the world offers little solace to one like me."
Nyssa, unimpressed, scoffed. "So you're cursed to be cold forever? Sounds like a convenient excuse to avoid life."
Eirik's eyes flicked toward her, cold and unyielding. "And you, Dragon-Blooded, what life do you live? You speak of strength, but you are as bound by your power as I am. We are all cursed in our own way."
Nyssa narrowed her eyes, but she didn't respond. There was truth in his words, even if she didn't like it.
Aurelia, always passionate, spoke next. "So you're just going to keep wandering, looking for something you might never find? That doesn't sound like much of a life."
Eirik's expression didn't change. "Perhaps not. But it is the life I have."
Thalos, ever the calm presence, finally spoke. "The cold you carry may be part of you now, but it doesn't have to be all you are. The earth moves slowly, but it does move. So must you."
Eirik considered this, his icy gaze softening ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But the cold is not so easy to shake."
Before anyone could respond, a sudden noise broke through the conversation—a soft, eerie rustling from the darkened forest behind them. The immortals froze, their senses heightened. The sound grew louder, like leaves stirring in the wind, but there was no breeze. It was as if something—or someone—was moving through the shadows.
Lucius stood, his sharp gaze scanning the darkness. "We're not alone."
Aurelia rose to her feet, flames dancing at her fingertips. "What now?"
Nyssa unsheathed her weapon, her eyes narrowing. "I don't like this."
Thalos remained steady, though his muscles tensed. "Stay alert."
Eirik turned, his cold presence intensifying. "Something is coming."
From the trees, the strange rustling grew closer, accompanied by a low, unnatural whisper. The immortals could feel it—a presence in the darkness, watching them, waiting. The firelight flickered, casting strange shadows on the trees, as the sounds came ever closer.
Suddenly, the whispering stopped, and the forest fell eerily silent.
Then, out of the shadows, something moved. A figure, cloaked in darkness, slowly emerged from the treeline. The fire dimmed as the figure approached, its face obscured, its movements unnervingly slow. An unnatural chill swept through the clearing, as if the very air around them had been drained of warmth.
The figure stopped just outside the circle of firelight, its presence heavy, almost suffocating.
And then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, it spoke.
"I have been watching you."
The immortals stood still, their eyes locked on the mysterious figure. Whatever—or whoever—this was, it was unlike anything they had encountered before.