The biting cold of the Mahr Province was harsh, as Damek and Esme trekked through the snow-covered mountain filled with tall pines.
It had been days since they had fled their home in Mahr Province. Cozar lay far south, requiring some day's journey.
Damek glanced over his shoulder at Esme, who was struggling to keep up, her small legs sinking into the deep snow with every step. The cold reddened her cheeks, and in the frosty air, she gasped for breath in short, shallow breaths. She had been so brave and so strong. But Damek could see the toll the journey was taking on her. He slowed his pace, waiting for her to catch up.
"Esme," he called out. "Come here."
Esme looked up with a tired eye while she tramped through the snow to reach him. Damek knelt down, brushing the snow from her boots before hoisting her onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Damek," she whispered, her voice tinged with guilt. "I'm slowing us down."
Damek shook his head, "You're not, Esme. You're doing great. We'll get to Cozar soon, I promise."
Tajara was a country with contrasts. Mahr, the northern province, was known for its brutal winters. Here, the snow could bury an entire village, and the cold could freeze a man to death in hours. However, Cozar, the southern province, was warmer. The land was fertile and green, even in winter. But to reach it, Damek and Esme would have to cross the vast wilderness that lay between. A wilderness filled with dangers far worse than the biting cold.
Damek stopped for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He set Esme down gently, his arms burning with fatigue. The little girl slumped against a tree, exhausted and tired.
"We'll rest here for a bit," Damek said, trying to sound reassuring. He looked around, scanning the forest for any sign of shelter, but all he saw were the endless trees, their branches heavy with snow.
He knew they couldn't stay here long. The cold would soon seep into their bones, and if they didn't keep moving, they would never make it to Cozar.
He knelt down beside Esme, pulling his thin cloak around her small body, trying to shield her from the wind. "How are you holding up?"
Esme gave him a weak smile. "I'm okay. Just…tired."
"But what about you?" Esme would ask with concern.
Damek nodded, though his heart ached to see her like this. She was only seven, too young to be enduring this kind of hardship. He wished he could take all her pain, all her fear, and carry it for her.
But all he could do was keep moving, keep them both alive until they reached the safety of their uncle's home.
"I'm fine," Damek replied, forcing a smile. "I'll eat later."
He reached into his bag, pulling out a small piece of dried meat, one of the last scraps of food they had left. He handed it to Esme, who took it gratefully, though she barely had the strength to chew.
"Eat, Esme," he urged gently. "You need your strength."
She nodded and took a small bite. Damek watched her, his heart heavy with worry. How much longer could they keep going like this? They were running out of food, out of strength, and the dangers of the forest were growing with each passing day.
Just as they were about to leave, he heard it—a rustling in the trees behind them. Damek froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the small knife he carried at his side. He scanned the forest as the sound grew louder. He could hear footsteps crunching through the snow.
"Esme," he called urgently, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. "We have to go. Now."
"But I'm so tired—"
"No time, Esme. Please, just trust me."
He didn't wait for her to protest. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into the trees as the footsteps behind them grew closer. They ran as fast as they could through the snow.
Damek thought of ways he could defend themselves against their pursuers, but he did not know what to do at that moment.
Then, ahead of them, he saw it—a river, its surface frozen solid, stretching out before them.
Damek knew it was dangerous, but they had no other choice. The sound of their pursuers was growing louder and closer, and he could hear the inaudible murmur of their rough and angry voices.
"Damek, the ice—" Esme shouted with fear. They were doomed.
"I know," Damek said, cutting her off. "But we have to cross it. It's our only chance."
Without waiting for her to respond, he pulled her towards the frozen river. They reached the edge of the ice, and Damek hesitated for only a moment before stepping onto it, his feet slipping slightly as he tested its strength. It held, but he could feel the way the frozen surface groaned under their weight.
"Come on," he urged, pulling Esme after him. They moved quickly, their footsteps light. He could feel the ice cracking beneath them.
They were halfway across the river when the bandits emerged from the trees. There were three of them, rough-looking men with wild eyes and savage grins. They saw the children on the ice and laughed.
"Nowhere to run, little ones," one of them called out. He held an axe in his hand. "We'll make it quick. Just give us what we want."
Damek's mind raced, but he forced himself to stay calm. He looked at the ice beneath his feet, and the way it was already cracking under the weight of their pursuers. An idea formed in his mind.
"Esme," he whispered. "When I say run, you run as fast as you can, okay? Don't stop until you reach the other side."
"But Damek—"
"Just trust me," he said, squeezing her hand. "Please."
The bandits were closing in, their heavy boots crunching on the ice, and Damek could see the madness in their eyes—the desperation of men who had nothing left to lose.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he had to do.
"Now!" he shouted, shoving Esme forward. She hesitated for only a second before she took off, her tiny figure slipping and sliding across the ice.
Damek waited until she had crossed the frozen river before he turned to face the bandits. They were almost upon him.
"Brave little boy," one of them laughed, raising his axe. "But bravery won't save you."
Damek didn't respond. Instead, he stamped his foot hard on the ice until he felt it shudder beneath him. The cracks spread out like spiderwebs, racing toward the bandits with terrifying speed.
The man with the axe realized too late what was happening. He let out a shout of alarm, but before he could react, the ice gave way beneath him, sending him plunging into the freezing water below. The other two bandits scrambled back, but the ice was already collapsing around them, pulling them into the cold water.
Damek watched as the men thrashed in the water, screaming in horror while trying to escape.
Damek knew the river would claim them—it was too cold and too deep for them to survive.