Viktor's Wrath

The strip of cloth fluttered gently on the blade they'd left behind. A mark in the snow.

The silence that followed Darian's death lingered like a shadow.

No one spoke.

Snow crunched beneath their boots as they moved eastward, the wind cutting through even their thickest layers. Kaavi walked at the front, eyes always scanning the horizon. His raven swept overhead in widening circles, its dark wings gliding across a sky slowly turning grey.

Viktor trailed close behind his grandfather, clutching the satchel tightly to his chest. It felt heavier than it should. Not from weight but from the burden it carried. The final hope of a dying man. The memory of a daughter.

Behind them, Gavril moved with quietly. His usual half-smile was gone, replaced by a hardened set to his jaw. Occasionally, he would glance over his shoulder, scanning the ridges. Whether he expected bandits, beasts, or something worse, he didn't say.

They passed frozen streams and leafless groves, the land growing more rugged with each hour. Jagged cliffs began to rise in the distance, stone sentinels watching over a broken kingdom. By midday, clouds had swallowed the sun, and a thin veil of snow began to fall again.

"two more days," Kaavi said suddenly, breaking the silence. "If we keep this pace."

"Is that how far the city is?" Viktor asked.

Kaavi nodded. "From what Darian said... Whitehold is still standing. But if the attack spreads..."

He trailed off.

Viktor didn't need the rest of the sentence. If the attack spreads, then the path they walked now might already be watched. The warning they carried might already be too late.

Gavril let out a breath through his nose. "We'll have to find a way into the city without drawing attention. If someone really has infiltrated Whitehold, they might not want that satchel delivered."

Kaavi didn't answer.

Instead, he stopped.

His head tilted slightly, as if listening to something beyond the wind.

"What is it?" Viktor asked.

Kaavi didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The muscles in his face twitched…barely noticeable to most, but Viktor had learned what it meant.

He was reaching out again. Listening with something deeper than ears.

A moment later, his eyes opened.

"There are wolves nearby," Kaavi said. "But they're... circling something. Not hunting. Waiting."

Viktor frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kaavi pointed up the ridge to the right. "There's movement. A camp, maybe. I saw smoke rising. Someone's cooking meat, and the wolves are drawn to the scent, but they're not approaching."

Gavril narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"Not sure maybe they are waiting for the moment to hunt or they are wary of something or someone."

Viktor's blood chilled.

Kaavi motioned for silence and crouched near a patch of rock. He placed one hand on the frozen ground and whispered something under his breath…just a breath of sound. His raven let out a single caw overhead, then swooped down and soared toward the ridge.

"We wait," Kaavi said.

Minutes passed.

Then, the raven returned.

Kaavi tilted his head as if listening to its cry.

"There's a fire up there. And two men. They're watching the road."

"Scouts?" Gavril asked.

"No," Kaavi murmured. "Hunters. Or pretending to be."

He rose to his feet and looked at Viktor.

"We're going around. Another detour."

Viktor blinked. "But if they're just..."

"They're not," Kaavi said. "They're either killers, or bait for something worse. And right now, we carry something too important to risk."

Viktor nodded.

They turned south, skirting the slope carefully. Snow clung to the edges of their cloaks and the wind howled higher. The day dimmed fast. Twilight arrived like a curtain dropping over the sky.

By the time they stopped, they'd crossed a narrow gorge and found shelter beneath a stone overhang. Kaavi gathered dead branches while Gavril made a windbreak using packed snow. Viktor helped where he could, but his thoughts were distant…drifting back to Darian, to Whitehold, to the daughter who thought her father would fly.

The fire crackled low as night fell.

Kaavi sat cross-legged with the satchel between his knees, inspecting the seal. A silver clasp in the shape of a crescent. No markings. Just a soldier's insignia.

He didn't open it.

Not yet.

"We'll look inside tomorrow," Kaavi said. "Before we reach the city. Just in case."

Gavril leaned back against the rock wall, chewing on a strip of dried meat. "Do you think Baron will believe us?"

Kaavi gave him a long look. "We won't give him a choice."

The wind moaned outside their shelter.

Viktor drew his cloak tighter and shifted closer to the fire. His voice was soft when he spoke.

"What if we're too late?"

Kaavi looked at him.

Then, gently, he placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder.

"Then we do what Darian did," he said. "We keep going."