The dense forest loomed like a shadowed cathedral, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and the distant rustle of unseen creatures. The trio moved cautiously, eyes scanning for movement, ears pricked for the slightest sound. This was no ordinary hunt—they were after a magical beast, a predator that had been terrorizing the region's villages.
"Keep your guard up," Ashe said, her voice a soft murmur as they trudged through the underbrush. Her bow was drawn, an arrow nocked but not yet pulled taut.
Adam kept close behind her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His nerves were steady for the first time since he'd arrived in this world. After his unexpected display of skill earlier, he felt a strange new confidence. Maybe he didn't fully understand how to survive here yet, but he wasn't completely useless. Not anymore.
"What exactly are we looking for again?" Adam asked, keeping his voice low.
"A Frostfang," Ashe replied without turning. "Massive, wolf-like, with white fur and ice-blue eyes. It's incredibly fast, and its fangs can freeze a man solid with a single bite."
"Great," Adam muttered. "Any chance we could've gone after something a little less...lethal?"
Tryndamere chuckled, his deep voice reverberating like a distant drumbeat. "If you're scared, stay back and let the adults handle it."
"I'm not scared," Adam shot back. "Just...cautious."
Ashe smirked but said nothing.
The group continued deeper into the forest, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in sparse, ghostly beams. After nearly an hour of tense silence, a low, guttural growl echoed through the trees. Adam froze, his hand tightening on his sword.
"It's close," Ashe whispered, her body tensing like a drawn bowstring.
The growl came again, louder this time, accompanied by the sound of heavy footfalls. A moment later, the beast emerged from the shadows, its form both majestic and terrifying. The Frostfang was as Ashe had described—its fur shimmered like fresh snow, and its eyes burned with an icy, predatory light.
"Spread out," Ashe commanded.
Adam instinctively obeyed, moving to the right as Tryndamere charged forward with a battle cry, his enormous sword swinging in a wide arc. The Frostfang darted to the side with supernatural speed, narrowly avoiding the strike.
Ashe loosed an arrow, the projectile whistling through the air and striking the beast in the shoulder. The Frostfang howled in pain but didn't slow down. It lunged at Tryndamere, its jaws snapping with chilling ferocity.
"Get its flank!" Ashe shouted at Adam as she fired another arrow, this one embedding itself in the beast's hind leg.
Adam nodded, his movements instinctive as he circled around the creature. He drew his sword, the weight no longer feeling foreign in his hands. The Frostfang turned its attention toward Ashe, its growl deepening into a snarl.
This is it, Adam thought. No hesitation.
He lunged forward, aiming for the Frostfang's exposed side. His blade struck true, slicing through fur and flesh. The beast howled and turned on him, its icy eyes locking onto his.
"Move!" Tryndamere barked.
Adam dove to the side just as Tryndamere brought his massive sword down, the blade carving a deep wound into the Frostfang's back. The creature stumbled, its movements growing sluggish as blood seeped into the snow.
Ashe fired another arrow, this one striking the beast in the neck. The Frostfang staggered, its growls fading into pained whimpers. Adam saw his opening and rushed forward, his sword raised.
With a final, decisive strike, he drove the blade into the Frostfang's heart. The beast let out a shuddering breath and collapsed, its massive body going still.
For a moment, the forest was silent save for the trio's heavy breathing.
"You did good," Tryndamere said, clapping Adam on the shoulder with enough force to nearly knock him over.
"Yeah," Ashe added, her tone impressed. "You kept your cool out there. That's an improvement."
Adam pulled his sword free and wiped the blade on the Frostfang's fur. "I told you I wasn't useless," he said with a grin, though his heart was still pounding from the adrenaline.
Ashe knelt by the creature, examining its body. "This'll fetch a good reward in the next village," she said. "The people there will sleep easier knowing this thing's dead."
"Let's carve it up and move out," Tryndamere said.
As they worked together to harvest what they could from the beast, Adam felt a small spark of pride. For the first time since he'd found himself in this strange, dangerous world, he wasn't just surviving—he was contributing.
'Who would've guessed a kid like me being home one second and next im in the woods gutting up a weird magic wolf thing' Adam thought as he looked away from Tryandemere who sliced up the Frostfangs insides.'Gross' is all he thought as he finished up.
"Alright,time to move we have a journey ahead of us in the mountains" Ashed said as he gave her things a look over making sure everything was there.This caught Adams attention as he walked over to her.
"Wait hold up did you say a mountain you mean that big thing over there with the storm clouds over it " Adam said pointing at the mountain ahead of them.
"Aye boy once were through the mountains we'll get to where we're headed" Tryandemere said as they began to walk towards the giant mountain.
"I don't know how good your eyesight is in all this fucking snow,but excuse my language do you not see those fucking giant ass storm clouds over it.If we even get close to it we'll get frozen and I'll have to eat one of you to survive" Adam said worried.
Ashe and Tryandemere looked at him after that second comment
"It was just a joke,I use comedy as a coping mechanism" He said with his hands up as he followed them.
"Just keep up and don't slow us down Adam we're running out of time" Ashe said.
"Yeah I know I know 'if you even slow down a bit we'll leave you for dead,we have no use for a weakling'"Adam replied as he deepened his voice and puffed out his chest as he imitated Tryandemere,this got a smile out of Ashe and a snort from the big guy.
"I don't talk like that" he muttered to himself.
They began treading up the mountain the two freljordians climbing up with ease as Adam tried to keep up with them.
The snowstorm was merciless, its icy winds howling through the trees like a pack of feral beasts. Visibility was almost nonexistent, with flurries of snow swirling in every direction. Adam struggled to keep up with Ashe and Tryndamere as they pushed through the storm.
"Stay close!" Ashe called over her shoulder, her voice barely audible over the roaring winds.
Adam nodded, squinting to make out their silhouettes in the blinding white. His body ached from the relentless cold, but he forced himself to keep moving.
Then, it happened.
A sudden gust of wind blew through the mountain, carrying with it a dense wall of snow. Adam shielded his face with his arm, and when he looked up, Ashe and Tryndamere were gone.
"Hey! Ashe! Big guy!" he shouted, panic lacing his voice.
No response.
"Oh fuck" Adam said as he looked left and right looking for his two companions.
His heart pounded as he turned in every direction, but all he could see was an endless sea of white. "Dammit!" he muttered, his breath visible in the freezing air.
He called out again, his voice growing hoarse, but the storm swallowed his words. Adam's chest tightened as he realized just how alone he was.
And then he saw them.
Two figures emerged from the storm, their forms hazy and ethereal. One was tall and slender, a masked figure holding a bow that glowed with an otherworldly light. The other was a massive wolf, its fur as black as the void, its glowing blue eyes fixed on him.
Adam froze, his breath hitching. The big guy's words echoed in his mind: *That's death. It only appears when you're close to dying.*
The hooded figure—Death—raised its bow, its expression unreadable beneath the shadow of its mask. The wolf growled low and menacing, its breath visible in the freezing air.
"Stay back," Adam whispered, his voice trembling. He unsheathed his sword, though his hands shook as he gripped the hilt.
Death didn't speak. Instead, it loosed an arrow, the projectile streaking toward Adam like a comet.
He dove to the side, the arrow missing him by inches and embedding itself in the snow. Before he could recover, the wolf lunged at him, its massive jaws snapping. Adam raised his sword just in time, the blade grazing the wolf's face and forcing it to retreat.
His shoulder burned as the wolf's claws raked him during its retreat. Blood seeped into his coat, staining the snow beneath him.
"Damn it!" Adam gritted his teeth, the pain almost blinding. He pressed his hand against the wound, his breathing ragged.
The masked figure loosed another arrow, and Adam ducked behind a rock. His heart raced as he tried to gather his thoughts, but the storm and the pain made it nearly impossible.
*I'm going to die here.*
No.
No, he wasn't going to die. Not here. Not like this.
"I'm not dying a virgin!" he shouted, more to himself than anything.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow, and stepped out from behind the tree. He loosed the arrow, aiming for Death, and though the figure moved with uncanny grace, Adam's shot grazed its shoulder.
The wolf charged again, its massive form bearing down on him. Adam swung his sword, remembering Tryndamere's moves, and managed to land a solid blow on the creature's side. The wolf howled in pain, but when Adam pressed the attack, it suddenly turned intangible, his blade passing through it like smoke.
"Of course," Adam muttered, frustration mounting.
The fight became a blur of movement and instinct. He switched between his bow and sword, using Ashe's precise, calculated shots and Tryndamere's brute strength. Somehow, he managed to keep Death at bay, forcing the masked figure to retreat as it walked around looking for an opening, but the wolf was relentless.
Every time he thought he had an opening, it vanished, only to reappear and attack him from another angle. His shoulder throbbed, the pain intensifying with each movement. Blood loss and exhaustion were catching up to him, and his vision began to blur.
"Not...yet," he muttered, shaking his head to stay focused.
As the wolf lunged again, Adam braced himself, raising his sword in a last-ditch effort to defend himself. But before the beast could reach him, an arrow whistled through the air and struck it in the side.
"Ashe!"
Her voice cut through the storm like a beacon. "Stay down, Adam!"
Tryndamere roared as he charged forward, his massive sword swinging in an arc that sent the wolf sprawling. Adam collapsed to his knees, relief washing over him as the two joined the fight.
The battle was short but fierce, Ashe's precision and Tryndamere's raw power driving the creatures back. The hooded figure disappeared into the storm, and the wolf, wounded and limping, followed after it.
Ashe rushed to Adam's side, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. "What were you thinking, fighting them on your own?"
"I didn't have much of a choice," Adam muttered, his voice weak. "They kind of ambushed me."
Tryndamere knelt beside him, his brow furrowing as he examined the wound on Adam's shoulder. "You're lucky to be alive," he said gruffly. "But this wound is bad. It's already starting to fester."
Ashe nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "We need to get him to a village. Fast."
Adam's head lolled forward, his fever making it hard to focus. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Save your strength," Ashe said, her tone softening.
Tryndamere lifted Adam effortlessly, carrying him like a child. "You're not dying here," he said, his voice firm. "Not on my watch."
As the group pushed forward through the storm, Adam drifted in and out of consciousness, his thoughts a swirling mess of pain and exhaustion. Despite everything, one thought remained clear he isn't going to give up.
The storm howled around them, a relentless wall of ice and wind that seemed determined to stop their progress. Ashe led the way, her sharp eyes scanning the endless white for any sign of shelter. Tryndamere carried Adam in his arms, the young man barely conscious and mumbling incoherently.
"We need to move faster," Ashe said, her voice tight with urgency.
"I'm carrying him as fast as I can!" Tryndamere barked, his usual patience wearing thin under the dire circumstances.
Adam stirred weakly in Tryndamere's arms, his fevered skin radiating heat even in the freezing cold. His lips moved, but his words were slurred and hard to make out.
"Cold…I... I... don't wanna... die," he muttered.
Ashe glanced back, her expression softening for a moment before she turned her focus forward. "We can't lose him, Tryndamere. He's come too far to die here."
"Then find us shelter or a healer, Ashe," Tryndamere growled. "Because if this storm gets any worse, none of us are going to make it."
Suddenly, Ashe's eyes caught something in the distance—a faint, flickering light. She narrowed her gaze, her instincts sharpened from years of survival in the Freljord.
"There!" she called, pointing.
Through the storm, they could just make out the outline of a small structure—a lone hut standing defiantly against the blizzard.
"Let's hope someone's inside," Tryndamere said, adjusting Adam's weight as they quickened their pace.
---
They reached the hut, the wooden door rattling against the force of the wind. Ashe banged on the door with the hilt of her bow, her knocks echoing through the storm.
"Is anyone there? We need help!"
The door creaked open, and an older woman with weathered skin and sharp, piercing eyes peered out. She wore a heavy fur cloak, and her silver hair was tied back in a braid.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice guarded but firm.
"Our friend is injured," Ashe said, stepping aside to reveal Tryndamere holding Adam. "He has a deep wound, and his fever is getting worse. Please, we need your help."
The woman's eyes lingered on Adam for a moment, then she sighed and opened the door wider. "Bring him in."
---
The inside of the hut was warm, a sharp contrast to the freezing storm outside. A small fire crackled in a stone hearth, and the walls were lined with shelves holding jars of herbs and strange trinkets.
"Put him on the table," the woman instructed, pointing to a sturdy wooden surface.
Tryndamere gently laid Adam down, his face tight with concern. The woman moved quickly, gathering supplies from her shelves and lighting additional candles for better visibility.
"What's his name?" she asked as she began inspecting Adam's wound.
"Adam," Ashe replied, standing by the table. "He was attacked by... Death."
"Death? " the woman asked, her tone skeptical.
"A wolf. And a... being with a bow," Ashe said carefully.
The woman's hands paused for a moment before resuming their work. She began cleaning the wound with a sharp-smelling liquid, causing Adam to groan in pain.
"Sounds like he had a run-in with Kindred the soul takers," she said, her voice low.
Tryndamere and Ashe exchanged a glance.
"Will he make it?" Tryndamere asked, his voice gruff.
The woman didn't answer immediately. She worked in silence, stitching the wound with practiced efficiency. When she finished, she placed her hand on Adam's forehead and frowned.
"The wound is infected, but I've cleaned it. The fever is the bigger problem now. I'll need time to brew something that can help."
"Do whatever it takes," Ashe said firmly.
---
Hours passed as the storm continued to rage outside. The woman worked at her fire, grinding herbs and mixing them into a bubbling concoction. Tryndamere paced the room, his heavy footsteps echoing, while Ashe sat by Adam's side, watching his pale face.
Adam stirred, his eyelids fluttering.
"Ashe..." he croaked, his voice barely audible.
She leaned closer. "I'm here."
"I... I didn't want to slow you guys down," he said, his voice thick with guilt.
"You're not slowing us down," Ashe said gently. "You're still alive, and that's what matters."
Tryndamere snorted. "Barely. If you'd listened and stayed close, this wouldn't have happened."
"Tryndamere," Ashe said sharply, shooting him a glare.
Adam managed a weak laugh, his lips curling into a faint smile. "You... sound like my brother."
"Your brother must've been a wise man," Tryndamere replied gruffly.
Adam's smile faded as his fever pulled him back under. His breathing was shallow, but steady.
The old woman approached with a steaming bowl of herbal brew. "This will help," she said, tilting Adam's head up and coaxing him to drink.
"How long before he's better?" Ashe asked.
"A day, maybe two," the woman replied. "If his fever doesn't break by then..." She trailed off, her meaning clear.
---
The storm didn't let up that night, but the fire burned brightly in the hearth, and the old woman watched over Adam with quiet diligence. Ashe and Tryndamere took turns resting, their weapons always within arm's reach.
Ashe sat by the window, staring out into the swirling snow. Tryndamere approached, his massive frame looming beside her.
"He'll make it," he said, his tone surprisingly soft.
"I hope so," Ashe replied, her voice heavy with concern.
"He's tougher than he looks," Tryndamere added. "And he's learning fast. He'll be fine."
Ashe nodded, her gaze never leaving the storm. "He has to be."