"Damek!" Esme's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see her waiting on the far bank, her eyes wide with fear.
He ran to her, slipping and sliding across the ice. When he reached the shore, he collapsed beside her in exhaustion.
Esme threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "I was so scared, Damek."
"I know," he said, holding her close. "We're okay now. We're okay."
They sat there for a moment, huddled together on the frozen shore. Damek knew they couldn't stay here, not when they just ran out of danger. For now, they had survived. As long as they kept moving, they had a chance.
"Come on," he said finally, pulling back and looking into Esme's eyes. "We have to keep going. We are almost close."
As they neared the border of Cozar, the landscape changed. The forests gave way to rolling hills, and the air grew slightly warmer. They were almost there.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, they saw the first signs of civilization—a large city nestled in a valley, smoke rising from the chimneys of cozy houses.
"We made it, Esme," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "We're here."
Esme looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. "Is this Cozar?"
Damek nodded, a smile breaking across his face. "Yes. We just have to find Uncle."
They made their way into the bustling city, asking for directions to the address their mother had given them. Soon, they stood before a house—a squat, stone building located by the small river surrounded by trees. Smoke curled lazily from the stone chimney. Relief washed over him.
"This must be it," Damek whispered, his voice hoarse.
Esme, barely conscious, nodded weakly, and Damek led her to the door. He raised his gloved hands and knocked, waiting in silence.
The door creaked open, revealing a short, round man with a thick beard and sharp eyes. He wore a cloth that barely covered his body. His face was hard at first, as though he wasn't expecting visitors. When his eyes fell on Damek and Esme, his expression shifted from suspicion to surprise.
"Damek? Esme? By the gods, what are you doing here?"
"Uncle Ivar," Damek said, his voice trembling with relief. "We came—Mama told us to come. She said you'd help us."
The man, Ivar, blinked in disbelief. He stared at them for a moment before quickly ushering them inside, closing the door behind them with a thud. The warmth of the fire hit Damek like a wave. The heat was almost too much after the freezing cold. Esme slumped against him, too weak to stand on her own.
"Quickly now, sit by the fire," Ivar said, his tone urgent. "You look half-dead."
The house was small but cozy, with a wooden table and chairs, shelves lined with jars of dried plants and strange, carved idols of unknown origin. Animal pelts covered the floor, and a large iron pot hung over the fireplace, bubbling with some kind of stew.
Ivar guided them to a bench near the room, and Damek gratefully sat down, pulling Esme into his lap.
Ivar moved swiftly, grabbing a clay mug and pouring warm milk into it from a jug by the fire. He handed it to Damek. "Drink this. Both of you."
Damek took the mug, lifting it to Esme's lips first. She sipped it slowly, her body relaxing as the warmth spread through her. When she had drunk her fill, Damek took a sip himself, the milk soothing his dry throat.
Ivar stood over them, his eyes filled with concern. "What happened? Why are you here alone? Where's your mother?"
At the mention of their mother, Damek felt a lump form in his throat. Before he could speak, Esme, still half-asleep, whispered, "The wicked men… they came for Mama. We ran. Mama told us to run…"
Ivar's expression darkened. He knelt beside them, placing a hand on Esme's shoulder. "I see… so Liliana sent you here for safety."
Damek nodded, his face tight with worry. "We're hoping to find safety here, at least for now."
Ivar sighed deeply, his brow furrowed. "Cozar isn't what it used to be, lad. The province is crawling with many dangers—monstrous beings have been walking these lands ever since the first war. Worse still, they're powerful principalities that threatened the peace of this province. A lot had happened. It's no longer safe, not even here by the river."
Damek's heart sank at the words. He had hoped Cozar would be their sanctuary, a place far from the horrors of their home in Mahr, but now he realized nowhere in Tajara was safe anymore. War and devastation had reached every corner of the nation.
Ivar saw the sadness on their faces and his tone softened. "You're safe for tonight. Rest, eat something. I'll prepare a room for you. It's been too long since I've seen you two. I wish it was under better circumstances."
Damek nodded gratefully. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax for a while. Esme had already fallen asleep in his arms, her breathing deep and steady. Ivar stood and busied himself with preparing a room in the back of the house, leaving Damek by the fire, his mind filled with thoughts of their mother.
He couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him. He had left her behind, like she told him to, but he couldn't help wondering if there was something he could have done—if he had been stronger, smarter, maybe they could have all escaped together.
Soon, Ivar returned, wiping his hands on his apron. "The room's ready. Let me take her."
Damek shook his head. "No, I've got her," he said quietly, standing up and carefully lifting Esme in his arms. She stirred slightly but didn't wake. As he carried her toward the room, Ivar had prepared.
The room was small but clean, with two straw-filled mattresses covered in woolen blankets. Damek gently laid Esme on the bed, tucking the surrounding cloak.
As he did, the cloak shifted, revealing her upper arm. The blue mark, faint but unmistakable, glowed softly in the faint night.
Ivar, who had followed them into the room, froze when he saw it...
His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.
"I'll leave you to rest," Ivar said, his voice suddenly tight. He turned and left the room, but not before casting one last, lingering glance at Esme's arm. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Damek alone with his sister.
In the main room, Ivar stood by the fire, his mind racing. The stories were true—Esme bore the mark of the tribe, long thought extinct. Same tribe that made the Queen set up laws, abolishing any form of hunt against. The same tribe that mysteriously made the former king and his councillors met their tragic end, escalating the war, and enabling Raneya, the king's consort, ascend the throne.
Liliana, that clever woman, had hidden it from him all these years. She had kept her children's true nature secret, even from her own brother. As Ivar stared into the flames, a slow, calculating smile spread across his face.
"I always knew she was hiding something," he muttered, clenching his fists. "But this…"
Spitting into the fire, Ivar's eyes shone with greed. "Liliana, you should've trusted me," he said to himself. "Now I will make sure this treasure isn't wasted."
Tonight, Ivar decided he would let them rest. After all, they wouldn't know what was coming.