The Lost Vanguard

The crisp morning air bit at my face as we stepped outside, the snow crunching beneath our boots. My breath formed clouds that hung in the still air, only to dissipate as we trudged forward. Kaldar's long strides set a brisk pace, and I hurried to keep up, the fur-lined vest warming me against the biting cold.

The village quickly fell away behind us, its familiar shapes swallowed by the endless expanse of white. The horizon stretched out before us, broken only by the jagged line of trees and distant hills. Kaldar's silence was heavy but not uncomfortable, the steady rhythm of his boots on the snow providing a strange sort of comfort.

We hadn't gone far when two figures emerged from the tree line ahead. They moved with purpose, their forms bundled against the cold, weapons glinting faintly in the weak sunlight. As they drew closer, I recognized them—two hunters from our village. Kaldar raised a hand in greeting, and they fell into step beside us without a word.

"You brought him along?" one of them asked after a moment, his voice rough but not unkind. His eyes flicked toward me, assessing.

"He needs to learn," Kaldar replied simply, his tone leaving no room for debate.

The man grunted but said nothing more. The other hunter, a wiry woman with sharp features, gave me a brief nod. "Keep up, boy," she said. "It's a long walk to the garnizon."

I didn't respond, focusing instead on matching their pace. The snow grew deeper as we moved into the forest, the trees towering above us like silent sentinels. The path was narrow and winding, forcing us to move in single file. Kaldar led the way, his presence as unyielding as the landscape around us.

The hours passed in a blur of white and gray, the monotony broken only by the occasional rustle of branches or the distant cry of some unseen beast. My legs burned, the strain of trudging through the snow taking its toll, but I didn't complain. I didn't dare.

As we emerged from the forest, the sight before me stole my breath. The garnizon loomed ahead, a sprawling fortress of stone and timber nestled against the base of a cliff. Smoke curled from chimneys scattered across the compound, and the faint hum of activity reached my ears even from a distance.

The gates were massive, reinforced with iron and flanked by watchtowers. Figures moved along the walls, their forms blurred by the swirling snow. As we approached, the gates creaked open, revealing the bustling world within.

Inside, the garnizon was alive with movement. Soldiers and hunters moved purposefully, their armor and weapons glinting in the pale light. The clash of steel rang out from a training yard, where warriors sparred under the watchful eyes of their instructors. Merchants hawked their wares from makeshift stalls, their voices rising above the din.

But it was the people that caught my attention. They weren't all human. Among the crowd were figures of towering stature, their skin rough and gray like stone. Others had elongated limbs and sharp, animalistic features, their movements fluid and precise. A group of cloaked figures passed by, their glowing eyes peering out from beneath their hoods.

I couldn't tear my eyes away. The sheer variety of shapes and sizes was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the uniformity of our village. These weren't just warriors; they were survivors, hardened by the north and its merciless demands.

"Don't gawk," Kaldar said sharply, breaking me from my reverie. He motioned for me to follow as he made his way toward a large building near the center of the compound. The other hunters fell in behind us, their expressions unreadable.

The building was a barracks of sorts, its walls lined with weapons and armor. A fire roared in a massive hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Kaldar approached a table where a grizzled man sat, his face lined with scars. The man looked up, his eyes narrowing as they landed on me.

"This him?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

Kaldar nodded. "My son. He's here to learn."

The man grunted, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Kaldar. They spoke in low tones, their words lost to the crackle of the fire and the murmur of voices around us.

I glanced around, my eyes falling on a rack of weapons near the wall. The blades and axes were larger than anything I'd seen before, their edges gleaming with a deadly precision. One sword in particular caught my eye, its hilt adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to shift and dance in the firelight.

"Alaric," Kaldar's voice pulled me back. He was watching me, his expression unreadable. "Pay attention."

I nodded quickly, stepping closer to the table as the grizzled man leaned forward. "You'll need to prove yourself if you want to stay," he said, his tone heavy with expectation. "The north doesn't have room for the weak."

"I'm not weak," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could think. My hands clenched at my sides, the fire from my dream flaring briefly in my chest.

The man's lips curled into a faint smirk. "We'll see."

Kaldar crossed his arms, waiting for the man to speak again. Instead, the grizzled figure stood, motioning to a map on the table. His finger traced a path leading westward. "We've had reports of increased wolf activity near the village of Harrow's Hollow. The hunters there are stretched thin and need reinforcements."

"Harrow's Hollow," Kaldar muttered, nodding. "We'll handle it."

"Good," the man said, his gaze shifting to me. "He might learn something useful out there."

Before we could leave, the doors to the barracks creaked open. Two figures stepped inside, their presence commanding the room. The first was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, his armor polished and adorned with intricate engravings. He carried himself with an air of confidence, his piercing gaze sweeping over the room. Beside him stood a woman, her figure slender but no less imposing. Her long silver hair fell in loose waves, framing her sharp, elegant features. Her emerald-green cloak shimmered faintly, and the staff she held glowed with a soft, otherworldly light.

The room fell silent as the pair approached. The man spoke first, his voice deep and measured. "I hear you're heading to Draven's Hollow."

Kaldar nodded. "And you are?"

"Elryan Valtros," the man said, inclining his head slightly. "This is Myrial," he added, gesturing to the elf at his side. Her eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to Kaldar.

"We'll be joining you," Myrial said, her voice smooth but firm. "The reports of wolves are concerning, and we've been tasked with ensuring they're dealt with efficiently."

Kaldar raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Fine. But stay out of our way."

Elryan chuckled softly. "We'll see about that."