The frozen winds clawed at Kain's face as he stumbled through the snow-covered wilderness. Blood seeped from the wound in his side, staining the white ground with each unsteady step. The northern forests stretched endlessly around him, their skeletal branches whispering with the weight of unseen eyes.
Exile was not a punishment designed for survival—it was a slow death wrapped in the illusion of mercy. The elders may have spared his life, but they had sent him to the wildlands beyond the border, a place where few returned.
Kain pulled his tattered cloak tighter around his shoulders, though the fabric did little to shield him from the relentless cold. The dagger Rael had driven into his ribs had left more than just a physical scar—it burned like a brand beneath his skin, a constant reminder of betrayal.
My own brother, Kain thought bitterly, wiping the sweat from his brow despite the freezing air. I should have seen it coming.
He had been blind. He had trusted blood over instinct.
A branch snapped somewhere behind him. Kain's ears twitched. His senses, though dulled by pain, still burned with the remnants of his wolf nature. He turned sharply, his hand drifting to the crude knife he had salvaged from the outskirts of his homeland.
But there was nothing. Only the trees and the unrelenting silence of the wild.
You're imagining things.
Yet he knew better. The forests of the northern wilds were no sanctuary for exiles—they were hunting grounds. And tonight, Kain was prey.
The hours dragged on beneath the pale moon. By the time Kain reached the edge of the forest, the stars had begun to fade, giving way to the faint blush of dawn. The landscape opened before him, revealing a vast expanse of rocky cliffs and frozen rivers snaking through the valleys below.
From this height, he could see the distant lights of a human settlement flickering against the horizon. The sight filled him with a strange mix of relief and caution.
Humans.
He had little experience with their kind. The wolf clans lived in isolation, viewing humans as fragile and insignificant creatures. Yet, fragile or not, humans possessed a cruelty that even wolves feared—a cruelty born not of survival, but greed and ambition.
Kain pressed forward, his body screaming in protest with every step. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and exhaustion weighed heavy on his limbs. But the prospect of shelter, no matter how dangerous, drove him onward.
By midday, he descended into the valley, his eyes fixed on the crude wooden walls that marked the edge of the human settlement. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint sound of voices carried on the wind.
Civilization.
Or at least, a version of it.
Kain's footsteps slowed as he neared the outskirts. He caught sight of a group of men gathered near the entrance—rough-looking, armed with rusted swords and patched armor. Mercenaries, perhaps. Or bandits posing as gatekeepers.
Their eyes narrowed as they noticed him, and Kain felt their gaze linger a little too long.
"Oi," one of them called out, stepping forward. His beard was thick with frost, and his hand rested casually on the hilt of his blade. "What's this now? A lone traveler? Don't see many coming down from the north."
Kain said nothing, but his eyes met the man's in silence.
"You look half-dead," the man continued, grinning to his companions. "But I suppose we could find a place for you… for a price."
Another man laughed. "What's he got that's worth taking? His cloak's barely holding together."
The leader smirked, stepping closer until he was just within arm's reach. "Not much left, is there?" His voice dropped. "But we're not in the habit of letting strangers walk away empty-handed. Best leave whatever coin you've got."
Kain's hand remained at his side, hovering just above the knife beneath his cloak. He could see it now—how easily this encounter could spiral into bloodshed.
He was no stranger to violence. And despite his weakened state, he was confident he could kill them if it came to it. But drawing attention now, so close to the settlement, would do little to secure his survival.
Kain exhaled slowly and took a step back. "I have nothing for you."
The leader's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the tension thickened like frost on glass. But finally, the man grunted and stepped aside, waving him through with a mocking bow.
"Suit yourself, wolf-boy."
Kain's eyes flickered at the remark, but he kept moving.
The town, if it could even be called that, was little more than a scattering of wooden huts and stone buildings clustered around a central square. The people moved briskly, bundled in heavy cloaks, their faces lined with the weariness of hard winters.
Kain found his way to the edge of the market, where merchants hawked dried meats and crude tools. He kept his hood low, avoiding eye contact as he moved through the crowd.
He could feel the weight of his exile pressing down with every passing glance, every suspicious whisper.
As he passed by a blacksmith's forge, a voice called out behind him.
"You there."
Kain stopped, his body stiffening instinctively.
A woman stood by the forge, wiping soot from her hands. Her hair was dark, tied back in a loose braid, and her eyes held a sharpness that seemed out of place in this quiet town.
"You're not from around here," she said, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'm just passing through," Kain replied, his tone measured.
The woman's gaze lingered for a moment longer before she nodded toward the forge. "If you've got coin, I can fix that knife of yours. It looks like it's seen better days."
Kain hesitated, then glanced down at the crude blade at his waist. The edges were chipped, and the handle barely held together.
"I'll consider it," he said.
As he turned to leave, the woman's voice followed after him, softer this time.
"This town isn't kind to strangers," she warned. "Especially those who carry the weight of something… darker."
Kain paused but didn't turn back.
He already knew that all too well.
By nightfall, Kain found shelter beneath the awning of an abandoned watchtower at the edge of town. The stars above seemed distant, obscured by the shadows that now stretched across the land.
He sat in silence, the events of the day replaying in his mind.
Betrayal. Exile. The bitter road ahead.
But beneath the weight of it all, a single thought burned like a flickering ember in the dark.
I will survive.
And when the time came, he would return.