Snowflakes are one of nature's most fragile things, but just look what they can do when they stick together.
Vesta M. Kelly:
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"Alright. Someday, I'll get it perfect." He says this to no one, but the floating ladle pauses midair as if nodding. A corner of his mouth quirked into a sly grin, but instead of cleaning the kitchen, he bolted for the door.
No point sticking around—he had a journey waiting.
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As the boy stepped out of the cathedral, he paused at its threshold and cast one final glance behind him. With a barely audible "thank you," he crossed its boundaries, leaving the sanctuary behind.
The scene before him was much as he had expected. The landscape remained eerily unchanged from the day before. The scars carved into the earth by the battle—deep, jagged wounds—persisted, unmoved by time or magic. The grave, too, stood untouched, a monument to what had transpired.
Yet the world surrounding the site seemed intent on reversing the chaos. The air shimmered faintly, as though the universe itself was trying to rewind, to erase the destruction. But it faltered—unable to fully heal, leaving the scars as stubborn reminders of the past.
The boy lingered for only a moment longer, his gaze flickering between the fractured earth and the horizon. Then, without another word, he turned and began walking, the steady rhythm of his steps breaking the oppressive silence.
Soon, his walk became a run. The landscape around him shifted as he moved, morphing with unsettling fluidity. The volcanic slopes and molten rivers he had crossed earlier gave way to a stark, frozen expanse. The ground beneath his feet was no longer searing but covered in snow—a hard, brittle kind that crunched sharply with each step, like shattered glass.
The boy's body still radiated a faint heat, the lingering warmth of the lava fields clinging to him as a contrast to the icy terrain ahead. The transition was jarring—the blazing inferno of the past world now replaced by a frigid, unyielding forest.
The trees loomed around him, skeletal and frostbitten, their branches twisting upward like the desperate fingers of forgotten ghosts. The snow wasn't soft or inviting; it was harsh and crystalline, glittering coldly beneath a dim, gray sky. Above him, heavy clouds churned, thick and brooding, as though threatening to unleash something far worse than snow.
He pressed forward into the forest, his steps cautious yet deliberate. The warmth of the lava fields felt like a distant memory now, fading with each stride into this desolate, frozen wilderness.
The trees stood tall and gnarled, their bark dark and cracked like ancient bones jutting through the icy shroud. Frost clung to every surface, while long icicles hung precariously from the twisted branches, dripping faintly as though the forest itself wept in mournful silence. The air was unnervingly still—a stark, oppressive quiet that felt alien compared to the chaotic, fiery terrain he had left behind.
As he ventured deeper, the snow grew denser, its surface hardening into a crystalline sheet that reflected shards of pale, cold light. Then he heard it—a faint, slithering sound, almost imperceptible yet unmistakable. His gaze snapped toward the source, and from beneath a skeletal bush, a pale, sinuous form emerged, gliding silently across the snow.
It was a lizard—but unlike any he had ever seen. Its skin was a shade of pure, ghostly white, so translucent it seemed to absorb and reflect the dim, ambient light. Its eyes burned faintly red, as though tiny embers smoldered deep within. It moved with an unsettling, serpentine grace, its body barely disturbing the snow beneath it, as though it hovered just above the frozen ground.
The boy stopped, his senses sharpened. Then, more of them appeared. Dozens slithered forth from the cracks in the icy earth, from the deep crevices between the ancient trees' roots. Some climbed the jagged bark, their clawed feet gripping the frostbitten wood with unnatural precision, while others coiled around hanging icicles like eerie, living ornaments. Their breaths came in short, visible puffs, yet the bitter cold seemed to have no effect on them—they thrived in it.
He took a single cautious step forward, and the lizards froze as if by some unspoken command. Dozens of glowing red eyes turned toward him in unison, their unblinking stares filled with an unnerving, alien intelligence. The silence around him deepened, thickening the air like an invisible fog.
A primal warning pulsed through his body, a subtle vibration he couldn't ignore. He felt it in his core—this place was not his. He was a trespasser here, a foreign warmth from the realm of fire daring to encroach upon the unyielding domain of frost.
He felt a strange pull, as if the forest itself was compelling him forward, drawing him deeper into its frozen, suffocating embrace. Among the ancient, twisted trees, a faint flickering light caught his eye, distant yet alluring. The air grew colder with every step, biting at his skin with an unnatural intensity. But it wasn't enough to stop him. Something—perhaps curiosity, perhaps instinct—urged him on.
The lizards parted silently as he walked, their pale, sinuous forms gliding away with a grace that seemed almost ethereal, like they floated just above the ground. Their glowing red eyes never left him, unblinking and ominous. They weren't hostile, but neither were they welcoming. It felt as though they were testing him, watching closely, waiting for him to make a decision he didn't yet understand.
His breath emerged in soft, fragile puffs that dissipated quickly in the frigid air. His focus remained fixed on the flickering light in the distance—a faint, wavering glow that danced like a will-o'-the-wisp, just beyond reach. The forest seemed alive with a strange energy, a low, otherworldly hum that vibrated in his chest and under his skin.
Behind him, the comforting warmth and light of the volcano had disappeared entirely, swallowed by the endless white expanse of snow and frost. All that remained was the frozen forest and the relentless, silent gaze of the creatures that shadowed him.
As he pushed deeper, the lizards grew larger, unnervingly so. They loomed tall—almost human in size—their serpentine forms blending into the twisted surroundings. Hours passed in near silence, the only sounds being the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, the whisper of the wind, and the occasional groan of ice shifting beneath the forest's weight.
The stillness began to weigh on him, gnawing at his mind. He wondered—why not approach the lizards? Perhaps they were intelligent. Perhaps they could guide him to something—a sign of life, or even civilization.
With that thought, he took a step toward one of the larger creatures. But as soon as he moved closer, it dissolved into the snow, vanishing without a trace. No tracks, no disturbance—nothing to suggest it had ever been there. It simply ceased to exist.
Puzzled but undeterred, he tried again, approaching another. And again, the same thing happened. The lizard melted into the frost, leaving behind no evidence of its presence, like a phantom disappearing into thin air.
Yet, even as they retreated, the rest remained. Their glowing red eyes followed his every move, watching from the shadows and frost. They didn't blink, didn't stir, but their silent presence lingered, a constant reminder that he was not alone—and perhaps never would be.
"This place…" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as a chill that had nothing to do with the cold tried to settled deep in his bones. "It truly is strange."
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At one point, he tried mimicking their movements, crouching low to the ground and dragging his feet lightly across the snow, hoping to show….
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Thank you so much for reading my story. (T_T) And no, I'm not crying! It's just… I think I bet too much on this.
We are at Chapter 40 On Patreon! Link: patreon.com/TenaciousJay002