Draconic Awakening

It was night time once more and the entire realm was enveloped by the darkness of night. No stars, no moon regarded to lighting even an inch of the entire world.

However Ragnar sat by a little sun of his own, a small bonfire he had created a few hours ago out of frozen sticks he found outside the cave and others he found in a small sack he obtained around the belt of the dead hunter.

The warmth of the fire as it flickered proudly around in the air made Ragnar snuggle a bit closer to the flames. This made him recall his old life, the time he was still weak, living in a small cottage that could not even be considered a proper living area where his father and mother despite being immensely poor could still afford to build small bonfires.

It was a horrid memory, to be able to afford fires and not food, although Ragnar quickly dismissed those memories.

This was not his first life, he established. His gaze fell onto his two shadows as he felt a bit of loneliness sitting with his only entertainment being his thoughts.

The two shadows present there stayed dormant doing their own thing, the writer scribbling at his pages, and the Prisoner just swaying in his stand as though he was passing time of a wretched thousand year sentence he still hoped to end.

The young Lord lingered there for a while staring at the two thinking of what to say, and the prisoner caught stare of his gaze and stopped it's rocking movement to glare at him.

"What?!" Ragnar frowned as he could tell the gaze was not a good one from the prisoner. However no reply came. How would it, this was only a mere shadow.

And this shadows, were not as entertaining as the dancer was.

The young Lord felt a little plagued, at a time like this he had to admit he missed the dancer's inconvenient annoyance and stupidity, at least that was entertaining.

And as though his wishes were being answered he felt goosebumps around his neck which made him turn his head around, this was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, as one that spelt out the return of his shadow.

Ragnar's eyes flew to see the dancer rushing back with quick strides towards him, resembling running but still, definitely a dance pattern.

"Well well, look who decided to show up after hours of search?" Ragnar scolded and then halted his further words as he saw the state of hurry of the shadow which hurried back to attach itself to his feet.

And as soon as the shadow was attached back to his feet, the indifferent voice of the system boomed in his ears.

{Danger is coming.}

It was a consise message that did not need any further proning. As Ragnar rose to his feet and threw his foot at the bonfire a few times in rapid successions scattering the wood in desperate attempt to kill the fire.

And regrettably he built a really good fire as it took way more time than expected to put it out, at least not completely but until there was nothing more than dying embers to prove it existed once.

With that the Young Lord hurriedly made his way to a side of the caves walls latching himself to it immediately and waiting in silence for whatever was coming his way.

It was at this time he could finally think again. 'i did not give much thought to this, I doubted the words Hagi spoke about the night, guess it wasn't a bluff.'

It was at a time like this Ragnar despised the feeling of comfort. The fire gave him warmth, also thanks for the comfort it caused it endangered him by spelling out his location to possibly lethal predators that were now coming his way.

In every battle it was the first attack and advantage in surprise that mattered the most and he had lost the element of surprise.

Still the young Lord stayed monstrously calm, he waited for whatever beast was lurking closer the cave and opened his palm widely summoning in it a short sword into his grasp.

In his hands settled it, a small sword with a sharp jagged azure coloured blade, and a dark hilt and guard that seemed to be made out of beast bone, or at least that was what he thought it to be. It seemed like a very good blade, however it's craftsmanship was poor and it's tendencies to crack or split into two when facing a much prominent enemy was surely a factor to reminisce about.

GRUCCK!

Ragnar snapped out of his thoughts hastily pairing into the dark entrance of the cave, using his Arcana.

Where he hid gave him various advantages, the rough surface bump of the wall that hid his body's appearance almost well enough acted as his own shelter from being spotted. And it also had a wide enough view of the outside cave from his safe spot. lastly, it acted as a very good position to attack from—with a ranged attack that was.

Using his Arcana Ragnar was only able to see the Caves entrance which was a let down on his own end.

He frowned at his handicap and forced his eyes to see further past the caves entrance, 'See further you bastard!'

{Warning: overuse or pushing of your Arcana will cause temporary blindness for an hour or more this is your weakness}

'Weakness? Of all the times this is the absolute worst for this to come.' Ragnar snarled. With this, he could only wait for his crushing fate to walk into the cave.

And this was something that did not take long.

At first it was the distant breathing that reached his ears, then a set of ferocious growling that filled the air, and the sound of heavy footing crunching into the ice.

Then finally the beast stepped into the jaws of the cave standing with it's back hunched and neck curved up grotesquely. it surveyed the entire cave with its head tilting around like a mechanical toy but in a very scary uncomfortable manner.

It was an Ice wendigo.

Not as large as the first, instead it was unimaginably skinny, with evidently it's flesh, ribcage and every part of his body seemed to be shriveled unbearably.

It almost resembled a standing museum piece of bone of what seemed like an ice wendigo— almost that is...

It was clear this Wretchborn hadn't gotten a bite of anything edible food in months or probably years.

'Its a grade one.' The young Lord thought sinking more into his hiding spot. Just because it was a grade one that did not mean it could not still disembowel him of his inwards in a few strikes from it's sharp resentful claws.

'But I'm lucky it's hungry.' One thing Ragnar knew all too well, there was one primal instinct that came over the body of any alive being and it was the need for food.

The young Lord turned his head a little and his gaze fell onto the corpse of the hunter still intact at least to the extent of being considered a delicacy to beasts.

This would be the ice wendigos target, and certainly, his bait.