Natural enemy (part 1)

A few hours passed.

The snow crackled under the duo's boots as they continued down the river, passing by many pine trees coated with snow. On their way to Noor, they saw white deers with long majestic antlers that would make for quite the dinner.

But these animals were too fast to be caught, and they had no throwing weapons to try to kill one from a distance. They also saw snow rabbits, but the animals' running speed was equal if not superior to the white deers.

Unwilling to waste his precious stamina needed for the journey to Noor, Loki didn't press the issue and simply accepted the fact that they were not equipped well enough to hunt. Also, according to Roan, the temperature was getting colder.

It was too much of a coincidence to be… a coincidence. Loki started to worry, which triggered his passive skill Cool-headed. His mind calmed. An icy feeling crept up his spine, ordering his muscles to relax for the sake of preserving energy. Loki's thoughts rid themselves of the unnecessary, focusing on the matter at hand.

Surviving.

They could, of course, retreat. Go back from where they came. But to Adam's knowledge, there was nothing up the Kilena's mountain range. Another town was located on the other side, but that was at least a five days' journey, if not more. They simply lacked the resources to make it there. Their only choice was to continue forward.

And if they were to meet frostborns, then so be it. He was not afraid of them and just wanted to avoid unnecessary problems. After all, if Adam's knowledge was correct, he had quite the advantage over those frozen bastards and he would use it to show them the way to Helheim.

While he was thinking about his options, the talkative merchant narrated one of his seemingly endless supply of stories he had come across during his travels.

"You know, the river Mär is quite huuuuge, and looong," Roan said, appearing relatively calm despite the tense atmosphere. "I travel down that very looong river from time to time and you would never guess where it leads to."

Loki remained oblivious to him, scouring the road ahead with his piercing, frozen-blue eyes that seemed to see through the woods.

The merchant didn't even bother waiting for his answer and continued, "Thousands of kilometers down that river is a whole other country, Fürbel. A country of gold, silver, but also fire! Lots of fire. You know, like volcano, lava, stuff like that. Ironically, their citizens do have quite the fiery temper too! One time, a dwarf got tired of haggling just after ten minutes! I mean… haggling is an art and a merchant should at least take an hour to haggle with another merchant, right?"

Loki stopped, kneeled, and examined a bush deprived of leaves on which stalagmite had started to form, but that's not what attracted his attention.

"Ah, yeah, there is also something very peculiar about this country, or should I say a similar issue they share with the weird city-states, tribes, and towns of the northern continent. Hum, what are these things called again… not frostborns but… something more incendiary, hum, hum, hum. I think they are called blazebor—hey are you listening to me?" Roan said, eyeing Loki who was examining a broken branch.

"Someone or something, has passed by here recently," Loki said, clearly ignoring him. "Maybe more than one, actually. It's hard to tell when the snow covers the tracks."

"I fail to see how it connects to my story," Roan said, sighing. "But let's admit that my story doesn't matter, and you are right. What good does it do us to know that? And, also, how do you know that?"

"First, it's always good to take into account external variables, no matter how small they are or what they may be," Loki replied, standing up and pointed down the river. "Second, while you were chatting with yourself, I've been observing our surroundings and found three broken branches."

"Woow, I didn't know you could speak to plants. Are you a shaman?" Roan asked, "Did you… ingest some drugs like most of them do? You should share next time, it's rude to be egotistical."

Loki clicked his tongue, "Broken branches this high up found on the same linear road are basically a beckon. I don't need to talk to plants to know that."

"Ooooh, so not a shaman but a huntsman, then. Interesting." Roan said, rubbing his nonexistent beard.

"Not exactly. Anyone would develop that kind of knowledge after having survived alone for six months in a dangerous environment."

"Hun? I doubt that 'rule' applies to anyone." Roan said.

"It does," Loki said, ready to pick up the pace. "Because if you don't, you die."

"Ah. Eh. Hum. Oh."

"Stop these weird noises and let's go," Loki said, starting to walk faster than before.

Roan followed closed by and replied, "Aye huntsman."

"Don't call me that."

The merchant smirked, "Aye huntsman."

Loki sighed, feeling that the rest of the journey would be dangerous but apparently also annoying.

***

Two or three hours before sunset, Loki and Roan stopped by a natural round-shaped frozen pond, planning to rest for a few minutes and boil water, because the merchant had difficulty following Loki's cadence.

"Oh, finally," Roan said, sitting on a rock by the pond to rest.

"I thought you were used to traveling," Loki said, placing his hand on the surface of the frozen pond.

"Yes, but at my pace!" Roan complained. "You walk like a snow rabbit in heat searching for its mate!"

Loki simply grunted, focused his attention on the ice, and frowned. He could sense a minute change with each passing second. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but after a few moments, he became certain. As if it was slowly thickening. He then looked up, fixing his gaze at the center of the pond. There, a small blue fissure fractured the air. It took but another moment for it to slightly enlarge.

"Shi…" He said, stopping midway to avoid opening his status window. "Fuck."

"What?" Roan asked, before looking in the direction where Loki laid his gaze. "Oh, shit."