(Jesse POV)
The words weren't just heard but felt, each syllable sending vibrations through the ground beneath us. I could see the other tribe members trembling not with fear, but with the overwhelming presence of power beyond human comprehension.
"CHILDREN OF THE EARTH. CHILDREN OF THE FLAME. YOU HAVE HONORED THE ANCIENT COMPACT. YOU HAVE OFFERED FREELY OF YOUR SUSTENANCE AND YOUR SPIRIT."
"KNEEL BEFORE THE LIGHT THAT GIVES LIFE. KNEEL BEFORE THE FIRE THAT DRIVES BACK DARKNESS. KNEEL AND RECEIVE THE BLESSING OF ETERNAL RETURN."
For a moment, I stood frozen in absolute shock.
'An actual god. Another literal, genuine deity.'
My senses were screaming contradictory information at me. Every l detection ability I possessed was registering power levels that were immense but not impossible to measure, reality distortions that bent the very fabric of space around the fiery figure. Yet at the same time, my rational mind struggled to process what I was witnessing.
Around me, every member of the tribe had already dropped to their knees in immediate, unquestioning submission. The divine command carried such absolute authority that resistance seemed not just futile but impossible. Thrakul and Korvain had prostrated themselves completely, their painted faces pressed to the earth in total reverence. The little girl beside me had fallen to her knees with tears of joy streaming down her face, her small hands clasped in prayer.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, I followed their lead, dropping to my knees with what I hoped appeared to be the same awed reverence. Internally, however, my mind was racing through rapid calculations and assessments.
'Definitely one of the more powerful than anything I've encountered before' I thought, keeping my head appropriately bowed while my perception continued to analyze the entity before us. 'Shouldn't be omnipotent. Means are limitations.'
'I'm not helpless here, I realized with some relief. Outmatched, certainly, but not trapped.'
What struck me most was my position relative to the divine manifestation. The Sun God stood within the main fire pit, his blazing gaze sweeping across the gathered tribe, but his attention seemed primarily focused on those at the central fire—Thrakul, the chief, the other elders who had organized and led the ceremony. My position at one of the smaller fires, on the periphery of the gathering, placed me outside his immediate area of concern.
'Thankfully, I'm not important enough to warrant direct attention' I thought, doing my best to remain as inconspicuous as possible while still maintaining the appearance of proper reverence.
From this vantage point, I could observe without being scrutinized. The Sun God's form continued to shift and flow, details changing moment by moment as if he couldn't quite settle on a single appearance. Sometimes his features appeared young and vital, radiating the energy of dawn and new growth. Other times, his face took on the ancient, weathered aspect of someone who had witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations. His hair flowed like liquid sunlight, occasionally forming into crown-like arrangements of flame before returning to its flowing state.
The most unsettling aspect was his eyes if they could be called eyes. They were points of such intense light that looking directly at them was impossible, yet somehow I could sense when his gaze swept over different sections of the gathering. When those points of blazing radiance turned toward my direction, I could feel the weight of his attention like physical pressure.
The Sun God's voice rumbled through the air again, directed specifically toward Thrakul, who remained prostrated on the ground.
"FAITHFUL SERVANT, SPEAKER OF THE ANCIENT WORDS, YOU HAVE PLEASED US GREATLY THIS SEASON."
Thrakul's voice emerged muffled from his position against the earth, speaking in the most formal dialect I had heard since arriving. "Great Sun God, Lord of Light and Life, we are but humble children seeking your blessing. We offer what little we have in gratitude for your gifts."
"LITTLE?" The god's voice carried what might have been amusement, though it was difficult to read emotion in tones that seemed to emanate from the fundamental forces of combustion itself. "YOUR OFFERINGS HAVE BEEN ABUNDANT. SEVEN GREAT HUNTS OFFERED TO THE FLAMES. GRAINS FROM THE SUMMER HARVEST BURNED IN OUR HONOR. THE CRYSTAL OF THE DEEP EARTH, PRECIOUS BEYOND MORTAL UNDERSTANDING."
I listened with fascination as the god recounted the season's sacrifices. Each offering he mentioned seemed to represent significant value to the tribe—successful hunts that had fed them through difficult times, portions of their harvest that could have sustained them through winter, and apparently some kind of rare crystal that had been extremely valuable to them.
No wonder they're being rewarded, I thought. They've been making serious sacrifices all season, not just token offerings.
Thrakul shifted slightly, enough to gesture toward the older man I had identified as the chief. "Great Sun God, our chief Morvak has guided us well in preparing these offerings. His wisdom has ensured we honored you properly."
Morvak lifted his head just enough to speak, his voice trembling with the effort of containing his awe. "We seek only to show proper gratitude, Lord of the Sky-Roads. Your light gives life to all things."
"INDEED." The god's attention turned fully toward Morvak, and I could see the chief's body trembling under the weight of its direct divine focus. "YOUR LEADERSHIP HAS BEEN WISE, MORTAL CHIEF. YOUR PEOPLE PROSPER BECAUSE YOU UNDERSTAND THE COMPACT BETWEEN DIVINE AND HUMAN. FOR THIS, YOU SHALL BE REWARDED."
The god raised one blazing hand, and something extraordinary happened. Light began to coalesce in his palm not ordinary light, but something that seemed to have substance and weight. As I watched through my enhanced perception, the light formed into what appeared to be small, crystalline objects that glowed with their own inner radiance.
"THREE GIFTS I BESTOW UPON YOUR TRIBE." The god's voice carried across the entire gathering, ensuring everyone could hear the promised rewards. "FIRST: THE BLESSING OF ABUNDANT GAME. The herds will find your hunting grounds favorable. Your land will not remain empty during the cold season."
One of the crystalline objects drifted from his hand toward Thrakul, who received it with trembling reverence.
"SECOND: THE LINEAGE OF THE DAWNBORN. Curses(illness) will find little purchase among your people. Your children will grow robust. Your elders will endure another season."
The second crystal floated to Morvak, who cupped it in both hands as if holding something infinitely precious.
"THIRD: WARMTH OF THE EVERLIGHT. Your fires will burn bright and warm. Your shelters will hold back the winter winds. The bitter frost will struggle to claim your lives."
The third crystal remained hovering above the god's palm, its light pulsing gently in rhythm with the flames of his form.
But then the god's tone shifted, becoming more serious, carrying an undertone of warning that made the very air seem to grow heavier.
"YET HEAR THIS WARNING, CHILDREN OF FIRE. THE COMING SEASON BRINGS DANGERS BEYOND THE ORDINARY TRIALS OF WINTER."
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the pre-dawn air. Even from my peripheral position, I could sense the god's mood changing, becoming less celebratory and more ominous.
"OTHER POWERS STIR IN THE DISTANT PLACES. ANCIENT ENEMIES OF WARMTH AND LIFE GROW BOLD AS THE CYCLE TURNS TOWARD DARKNESS. THEY SEEK TO EXTEND THE COLD SEASON, TO TRAP THE WORLD IN ETERNAL WINTER."
The god's form flickered, momentarily taking on an appearance that was more warlike—armor of living flame, a crown that resembled solar flares, features hardened by cosmic conflicts that spanned millennia.
"THE SNOW SPIRITS HAVE MADE ALLIANCE WITH THE ICE DEMONS OF THE FAR MOUNTAINS. TOGETHER, THEY WILL ATTEMPT TO PROLONG THE SEASON OF COLD, TO STARVE THE LIGHT AND CLAIM DOMINION OVER THE WORLD OF GROWTH."
Murmurs of fear rippled through the gathered tribe. I could see parents pulling their children closer, warriors unconsciously checking their weapons, and elders exchanging worried glances. This wasn't just a warning about a harsh winter, this was a prophecy if I've ever heard one.
"YOUR TRIBE SITS UPON PATHS THE COLD SPIRITS MUST TRAVEL TO REACH THE PLACES OF POWER. THEY WILL NOT PASS BY WITHOUT TESTING YOUR DEFENSES. BE READY."
Thrakul lifted his head enough to ask, "Great Sun God, how shall we prepare for such enemies? We know the ways to survive natural cold, but spirits and demons..."
"THE BLESSINGS I HAVE GIVEN WILL PROTECT YOU FROM MUCH" the god replied, his tone becoming slightly patronizing in the way that powerful beings often spoke to those they considered lesser. "BUT YOU MUST NOT GROW COMPLACENT. MAINTAIN YOUR OFFERINGS. KEEP YOUR FIRES BURNING BRIGHT. SHOW PROPER RESPECT TO THE SPIRITS OF WARMTH AND LIFE."
The god's blazing gaze swept across the entire gathering, and I felt that terrible weight of attention pass over me briefly before moving on. "AND GUARD WELL AGAINST STRANGERS WHO COME TO YOU IN THE COLD SEASON. NOT ALL WHO SEEK SHELTER DO SO WITH PURE INTENTIONS. SOME MAY BE SERVANTS OF THE ICE DEMONS, SENT TO WEAKEN YOUR DEFENSES FROM WITHIN."
My blood ran cold at those words. Was the god speaking generally about the dangers of winter refugees, or had he somehow detected held by breath, but internally I was preparing contingency plans for rapid escape if the attention turned hostile.
"TRUST YOUR SHAMAN'S WISDOM. FOLLOW YOUR CHIEF'S GUIDANCE. HONOR THE COMPACT BETWEEN DIVINE AND MORTAL." The god's voice was beginning to fade slightly, as if the energy required to maintain this manifestation was reaching its limits. "DO THESE THINGS, AND YOU SHALL SURVIVE THE TRIALS AHEAD. FAIL IN THESE DUTIES, AND THE COLD SPIRITS WILL FIND YOU EASY PREY."
The third crystal finally drifted down from the god's hand, settling into a small depression in the stone platform beside the fire pit. Its light pulsed once, twice, then settled into a steady glow that seemed to warm the air around it.
"THE VOW IS RENEWED. THE BLESSINGS ARE BESTOWED. THE WARNINGS ARE GIVEN." The god's form began to waver, his outline becoming less distinct as the supernatural energy that sustained his manifestation started to dissipate. "REMEMBER THIS DAY, CHILDREN OF EARTH. REMEMBER WHO WATCHES OVER YOU WHEN THE DARKNESS GROWS STRONG."
"REMEMBER... AND ENDURE."
With those final words, the Sun God's form began to collapse back into the fire from which he had emerged. The blazing column that had towered above the camp gradually contracted, the divine features dissolving back into ordinary flame. Within moments, nothing remained but a normal campfire, burning perhaps a little brighter than usual but showing no trace of the cosmic entity that had manifested within it.
As the last traces of supernatural energy faded from the air, people began to stir from their positions of reverence. The movement was gradual at first—tentative shifts as individuals processed what they had witnessed, whispered conversations as the immediate shock gave way to wonder and concern. Children who had remained perfectly still throughout the divine manifestation now moved closer to their parents, seeking comfort and reassurance in the aftermath of such overwhelming spiritual experience.
I remained kneeling for several more moments, partly to maintain the appearance of appropriate awe but mostly to give myself time to process everything I had observed. 'A genuine god. Divine gifts. Warnings about supernatural winter warfare.' The implications were staggering, and I was still struggling to reconcile what I had witnessed.
Around me, the soft murmur of conversations began to fill the morning air. People spoke in hushed, reverent tones, as if afraid that speaking too loudly might somehow disturb the sacred atmosphere that still lingered around the fire pit. I caught fragments of their discussions they ranged from expressions of awe, concerns about the warnings they had received, and speculations about what the divine gifts might mean for their survival.
"Did you see how the flames reached for the offerings?" one woman whispered to her companion. "Like living things, hungry for our gifts."
"The warnings about the ice spirits" an elderly man murmured worriedly. "My grandfather spoke of such creatures, but I thought they were just stories to frighten children."
"The gifts will protect us" a younger warrior said with more confidence than his expression conveyed. "The Sun God would not allow his faithful to perish."
My attention was drawn to the center of the gathering, where Thrakul and Morvak had moved closer together for what appeared to be an urgent private consultation. The shaman was bleeding from his divine channeling, but he seemed determined to continue functioning despite his obvious physical distress. Korvain hovered nearby, clearly concerned about his master's condition while clutching his own divine gift with careful reverence.
The two leaders spoke in low, intense tones, their conversation punctuated by gestures toward the forest, the sky, and the various members of their tribe. I strained my hearing to catch their words, though I was careful not to appear to be eavesdropping.
"The warnings were specific" Morvak was saying, his weathered face creased with worry. "Ice spirits, unnatural storms, enemies that can disguise themselves as allies. We must prepare immediately."
Thrakul nodded, wiping blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "The god spoke of battles already beginning in the far places. If the ice lords are truly awakening, we may have only days before their influence reaches our territory."
"The tribe has not slept" Morvak pointed out. "We have been awake all night for the ceremony. People need rest before we can ask them to work."
"There is no time for rest" Thrakul replied firmly, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had just served as a conduit for divine will. "The Sun God chose to warn us now, at the moment of his greatest manifestation. That timing was not coincidental. The danger is immediate."
Their conversation continued for several more minutes, with both men occasionally glancing toward different members of the tribe as if mentally cataloging resources and capabilities. Finally, they seemed to reach some kind of agreement. Morvak straightened up and moved toward the center of the gathering, while Thrakul carefully tucked the Ward of Eternal Flame into a leather pouch at his side.
"My people, Morvak called out, his voice carrying easily across the camp. The quiet conversations immediately ceased as everyone turned their attention to their chief. "The Sun God has honored us with his presence and blessed us with his gifts. But he has also warned us of dangers that approach with the turning of the season."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "Though we have not slept, the dawn is upon us, and we must act quickly to prepare for the trials ahead. There is no time for rest when supernatural enemies gather their strength against us."
A ripple of concern passed through the gathering. People exchanged worried glances, and I could see parents instinctively moving closer to their children.
"We will divide our efforts" Morvak continued, his tone taking on the decisive authority of a leader organizing his people for survival. "The women will gather herbs, medicines, and water for the coming trials. The men will hunt for fresh meat and begin cutting wood for defensive barriers. We cannot know exactly what form the ice spirits' attack will take, but we can ensure we are as prepared as possible."
Thrakul stepped forward, adding his spiritual authority to the chief's practical leadership. "The Sun God's gifts will protect us, but only if we prove worthy of that protection through our own efforts. We must work as if our lives depend on it...because they do."
As the two leaders concluded their announcements, the tribe began to organize itself with impressive efficiency. Despite their exhaustion from the all-night ceremony, people moved with purpose and determination. The divine encounter had clearly energized them, providing both motivation and urgency for the preparations ahead.
I found myself swept along with the women as they began to gather their tools and containers for the day's collection work. The little girl who had become my informal teacher appeared at my side, her eyes still bright with excitement from the divine encounter.
"Jess-ee comes with the gathering group?" she asked hopefully. "Mother says you can help find the good plants."
Her mother approached, carrying what appeared to be a collection of woven baskets and leather pouches. "The morning work will be good for learning our ways," she said with a warm smile. "And we can use all the help we can gather."
I nodded, genuinely interested in observing their gathering techniques and plant knowledge. "I would be honored to help."
The gathering party that formed included most of the tribe's women, from elderly matriarchs with decades of plant lore to young mothers with toddlers strapped to their backs. Each woman carried specialized tools for different types of collection such as pointed sticks for digging roots, sharp flint knives for cutting bark and stems, broad baskets for carrying bulk materials, and smaller pouches for precious seeds and rare herbs.
As we prepared to depart, I noticed that several of the tribe's men were arming themselves with spears and slings. One of them caught my questioning look and explained their presence.
"The women's work takes them far from camp, into places where they are vulnerable" he said matter-of-factly. "Normally, the dangers would be wolves, bears, or rival tribes. But with ice spirits stirring and unnatural threats approaching, we cannot afford to take risks."
Three warriors joined our gathering party young men who moved with the confident grace of experienced hunters. They positioned themselves strategically around our group, clearly taking their protective duties seriously. One of them, a lean man with intricate tattoos covering his arms, introduced himself as Kerath.
"We stay close but not too close" he explained to me specifically, apparently recognizing me as the newcomer who might not understand their protocols. "The gathering work requires quiet concentration. We watch the forest, you watch the plants."
As our expanded group set out from the camp, I could see the men organizing their own activities behind us. Some were already checking their hunting equipment, while others were examining trees near the settlement with an eye toward defensive construction. The entire tribe had transformed from celebrants to purposeful workers in a matter of minutes.
The forest we entered was magnificent ancient trees towering overhead, their canopy filtering the morning sunlight into dappled patterns that danced across the forest floor. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scents of moss, fallen leaves, and the rich earthiness of undisturbed wilderness. For someone accustomed to modern environments, the sheer pristine quality of this landscape was breathtaking.
The women moved through the forest with practiced efficiency, their eyes constantly scanning for useful plants and materials. They communicated in low voices, pointing out promising locations and sharing knowledge about seasonal availability and preparation techniques.
"Here" said one of the older women, kneeling beside a cluster of plants with broad, heart-shaped leaves. "Healing leaves for wounds and fever. The Sun God's warning means we will need many medicines."
She demonstrated the proper technique for harvesting—taking only the mature leaves, leaving the young growth to continue the plant's development, offering a quiet prayer of gratitude for each plant's sacrifice. The other women followed her example, and I tried to mimic their careful, respectful approach.
"These roots" the little girl's mother explained, pointing to a patch of ground where subtle signs indicated underground tubers. "Stored properly, they last through the cold season. Sweet and nutritious, good for children and elders when other food grows scarce."
The digging process was more complex than I had expected. The women used their pointed sticks to probe the soil carefully, following root systems without damaging them unnecessarily. They worked systematically, excavating tubers of various sizes while leaving smaller ones to continue growing for future harvests.
As we moved deeper into the forest, I began to appreciate the knowledge these women possessed about their environment and I tried my best to absorb it like a sponge. They could identify dozens of different plants by subtle variations in leaf shape, bark texture, or growth pattern. They knew which berries were safe to eat, which roots provided the best nutrition, which barks could be processed into medicines, and which fibers could be woven into useful materials.
"Water plants next" announced the eldest woman in our group, a matriarch whose gray hair was adorned with small carved ornaments. "The stream runs clear this morning, but ice spirits can harm water sources. We gather now while the Sun God's blessing still protects the flow."
We made our way toward the sound of running water, following game trails that wound between massive tree trunks. The warriors maintained their protective perimeter, occasionally signaling to each other through subtle hand gestures. When we reached the stream, I was struck by its pristine beauty. Crystal-clear water flowed over smooth stones, creating tiny waterfalls and pools that reflected the morning light like natural mirrors. The women immediately began filling leather pouches treated with tree saps to make them waterproof or carefully woven baskets lined with clay that could hold substantial amounts of liquid.
But they didn't simply dip their containers and fill them. Instead, they performed a careful ritual, each woman would first taste the water herself, then offer a small pinch of herbs or grain to the stream before beginning to collect. They spoke quiet words of gratitude to the water spirits, asking permission to take what they needed for their tribe's survival.
"Clean water is life" the matriarch explained to me as she demonstrated the proper collection technique. "We take only what we need, and we always give something back. The water spirits remember kindness, and they will protect sources that are treated with respect."
As our containers filled with precious water, the women also gathered specific plants that grew near the stream—water-loving herbs with medicinal properties, flexible reeds that could be woven into useful items, and clay deposits that could be shaped into pottery or used for various practical purposes.
As the morning progressed and our gathering containers filled with herbs, roots, water, and other valuable materials, but the warnings about ice spirits and supernatural enemies added an ominous undertone to our peaceful gathering work. Several times, I noticed the women pausing to listen intently to sounds in the forest, or exchanging worried glances when the wind carried unfamiliar scents. The warriors maintained their vigilant watch, their eyes constantly scanning the treeline for any sign of danger.
As our gathering party prepared to return to camp with our collected materials, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were all balanced on the edge of something dangerous and transformative. The divine encounter had marked a turning point not just for this tribe, but possibly for the broader relationship between supernatural forces and human civilization.
'Whatever's coming' I thought, helping to carry our heavy containers of water and gathered plants 'these people are preparing as best they can. The question is whether their preparations will be.' sufficient for the kind of supernatural warfare the Sun God warned them about.
___________________________________
Three days had passed since the Sun God's divine manifestation, and the tribe had transformed their entire way of life in preparation for the supernatural threats he had warned about. The peaceful rhythms of their normal existence had been replaced by urgent, purposeful activity that continued from dawn until well past sunset each day.
The most visible change was the defensive wall taking shape around the settlement's perimeter. What had begun as a collection of individual shelters arranged around a central fire pit was now becoming a fortified compound. The men worked in rotating shifts, some cutting down trees in the surrounding forest while others shaped and positioned the logs for construction.
The wall itself was an impressive feat of engineering. They had chosen to build it using a technique that combined vertical posts with horizontal interwoven branches, creating a barrier that was both sturdy and relatively quick to construct. The vertical posts were thick tree trunks stripped of bark and sharpened to points, driven deep into the ground at intervals of roughly six feet. Between these posts, the men wove smaller branches and saplings in tight patterns, creating sections that could deflect arrows or spears while still allowing defenders to see through gaps.
From my position working near the central fire, I could observe the wall's progress throughout the day. The structure now extended about one-fifth of the way around the settlement, creating a curved barrier that would eventually enclose the entire community. At the current rate of construction, they would need at least two more weeks to complete the full perimeter—time they might not have if the supernatural threats arrived as quickly as the Sun God's warnings had suggested. The men had also been systematically clearing trees from around the settlement, expanding the open area by nearly fifty percent. The sound of stone axes biting into wood had become a constant background rhythm, punctuated by the crash of falling trees and the calls of men coordinating their efforts.
I had spent most of these three days working closely with Mirael, one of the tribe's most experienced herbalists. She was a woman in her sixties, with silver-streaked hair braided with small bones and shells that marked her status as a keeper of medicinal knowledge. Her weathered hands moved with the confidence of decades spent preparing remedies, and her memory contained an encyclopedia of plant lore that would have impressed modern botanists.
"The herbs must be dried completely before mixing" Mirael explained as we worked together beside a carefully maintained drying fire. "Moisture trapped in the leaves will spoil the tonics, making them useless when we need them most."
She had been teaching me the intricate process of creating medicinal preparations that could sustain the tribe through a winter. We worked with bundles of herbs hanging from wooden frames positioned at precise distances from the fire which was close enough to benefit from the heat and smoke, but far enough away to avoid damaging the delicate plant materials.
The variety of medicines we were preparing was remarkable. There were fever-reducing tonics made from willow bark and specific flowering plants, wound-healing pastes created from crushed roots mixed with animal fats, and respiratory remedies designed to help people breathe through the harsh conditions of cold or to heat them back up. Each preparation required different techniques—some herbs needed to be ground to powder, others steeped in hot water, and still others combined with honey or tree saps to create palatable mixtures.
"The ice spirits bring sickness as well as cold" Mirael told me as we carefully measured proportions of dried herbs into leather pouches. "Not just the natural illnesses of winter, but ailments that can freeze a person's blood or turn their breath to ice crystals. These remedies may not cure such afflictions, but they will help bodies resist the worst effects."
As we worked, I used my senses to study the herbs more closely than any normal human could. Some of the plants they used contained compounds that modern medicine would recognize as genuine agents such as salicin from willow bark that could reduce inflammation, antimicrobial substances from certain roots, and other such uses from various plants. But other preparations seemed to work through mechanisms I couldn't identify, possibly involving the same supernatural forces that had allowed the Sun God to manifest.
The work was meticulous and time-consuming, requiring careful attention to detail and constant monitoring of the drying process. We had to turn the herb bundles regularly to ensure even drying, adjust their distance from the fire based on changing conditions, and test the preparations at various stages to determine optimal potency.
It was during one such testing session, as Mirael and I sampled a bitter-tasting respiratory remedy, that the first snowflakes began to fall.
They started as isolated flakes drifting down through the clear morning air—delicate crystalline structures that caught the sunlight and sparkled like tiny diamonds. At first, there were so few that they seemed almost coincidental, the kind of early snow that might presage winter but not necessarily signal immediate danger.
The children noticed the snow before any of the adults did. Their excited voices carried across the settlement as they pointed skyward and began trying to catch the falling flakes on their tongues. The two boys I had observed on my first day abandoned their work helping to strip bark from logs and started running around the open area, laughing with delight as they chased the slowly falling snow.
"Snow spirits dancing" the little girl who had become my friend called out as she spun in circles with her arms outstretched. "Pretty crystal coming to visit!"
Her joy was infectious, and soon several other children had joined in the impromptu snow celebration. They made games of catching flakes, trying to count how many landed on their hands, and creating elaborate dances that they claimed would encourage more snow to fall.
For a brief moment, the atmosphere in the settlement lightened. Adults paused in their urgent preparations to smile at the children's antics, and there was a sense that perhaps the winter would be normal after all—cold and challenging, but not the supernatural nightmare the Sun God had warned them about.
Mirael, however, looked troubled as she watched the snow begin to fall more steadily. "Snow comes early this season" she murmured, holding out her hand to catch a few flakes. "And see how the crystals form? Too perfect, too regular. Natural snow has more variety in its shapes."
I focused my enhanced vision on the falling snowflakes and realized she was right. Each crystal was remarkably similar to the others—hexagonal formations of almost machine precision that seemed designed rather than naturally formed. They were beautiful, but with a cold perfection that felt somehow artificial.
The snowfall gradually intensified over the next few hours, though it remained light enough that work could continue. The men maintained their construction efforts, though they moved with increased urgency now that the predicted supernatural winter was beginning. Women continued their preparation activities, but with more frequent glances toward the sky and growing concern evident in their expressions.
I continued working with Mirael, but both of us were now focused as much on the changing weather as on our medicinal preparations. The snow was accumulating slowly but steadily, creating a thin white coating on the ground that made the settlement look ethereally beautiful while carrying ominous implications for what was to come.
It was late in the afternoon, as the snowfall was reaching its heaviest point yet, that we heard the commotion from the forest edge. Shouts and calls echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of people moving rapidly through the underbrush. The hunters were returning from their daily expedition, but something was clearly wrong.
"Help needed! Injuries! Prepare the healing space!" The calls carried clearly across the settlement, spoken in urgent tones that indicated serious trouble.
Mirael immediately began gathering her medical supplies, moving with the quick efficiency of someone who had responded to such emergencies many times before. "Jesse, help me carry the prepared tonics" she instructed, pointing to several leather pouches containing our finished medicinal preparations. "If hunters are injured, we will need everything ready."
I quickly gathered the indicated supplies while Mirael collected her more specialized medical tools flint knives for cutting away damaged tissue, bone needles for stitching wounds, and various implements for extracting foreign objects from injuries. Together, we hurried toward the edge of the settlement where the hunters would emerge from the forest.
The hunting party that appeared through the falling snow was clearly in distress. Six men had gone out that morning, but only four were walking under their own power. The other two were being carried between their companions, their bodies limp and bloodied in ways that suggested serious injuries.
Kerath, the tattooed warrior who had helped guard our gathering expedition, was among those doing the carrying. His face was grim as he helped support one of the injured men, and I could see claw marks across his own forearms where he had clearly been involved in whatever had caused the injuries.
"What happened?" Morvak demanded as he rushed to meet the returning hunters, his chief's authority evident in how quickly he began assessing the situation.
"Bear attack" Kerath replied breathlessly as they carried the injured men toward the center of the settlement. "Massive old male, bigger than any we've seen before. Appeared without warning while we were tracking deer near the stone creek. Wouldn't retreat when we tried to scare it off just kept attacking."
Thrakul emerged from his shelter, the Ward of Eternal Flame clutched in one hand as he hurried to examine the injured hunters. Even from a distance, I could see his face tighten with concern as he observed their wounds.
"Bring them to the healing shelter immediately" he instructed. "Mirael, what do you need for treatment?"
"Hot water, clean furs, and space to work," she replied without hesitation, already moving toward the designated healing area. "Jesse, stay close and help as I direct. These wounds will require all our skills."
As we followed the injured hunters, Kerath continued his account of the attack. "The bear's behavior was wrong—completely wrong. No defensive posturing, no warning growls. It charged straight at us with pale blue eyes. Even after we wounded it with spears, it kept fighting until we finally drove it off by stabbing it with burning branches."
One of the other hunters, a younger man whose arm hung at an awkward angle, added his own observations. "It moved too fast for something that large, and it seemed to ignore pain. We've all hunted bears before, but this was different. Unnatural."
The most seriously injured hunter was Gorvek, a experienced tracker in his forties who had deep gashes across his chest and shoulder where the bear's claws had found their mark. The wounds were severe, with torn muscle and significant blood loss, though fortunately they appeared to have missed any vital organs.
The second injured man, Talek, had suffered what was a broken leg when the bear had knocked him down during the attack. His lower leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and despite his efforts to remain stoic, pain was evident in every line of his face.
Mirael immediately took charge of the medical response, her decades of experience evident in how quickly she prioritized the injuries and began organizing treatment. "Gorvek first—the bleeding must be controlled and the wounds cleaned before infection sets in. Talek's leg can wait briefly while we stabilize the more urgent injury."
She directed me to begin heating water over the fire while she gathered specific medicinal preparations from her supplies. As I worked, I watched her examine the claw marks with growing concern, her weathered fingers tracing the edges of the wounds with careful attention.
One Week Later
The week that followed the bear attack established a new rhythm of life for the tribe, one dominated by urgent preparation and growing anxiety about the supernatural winter that was intensifying around us. The snow had continued to fall intermittently, never heavy enough to completely halt activities but constant enough to remind everyone that the ice spirits' influence was steadily growing stronger.
I had found my place within the community's emergency preparations, helping wherever my skills were most needed. My enhanced body made me valuable for tasks that required endurance or precise observation, though I was careful to moderate my performance to avoid drawing unwanted attention to my nature.
Most of my time was spent working with Mirael, learning her healing techniques while helping to prepare medicines for the trials ahead. We had expanded our medicinal preparations significantly, creating stores of remedies specifically designed to counter corruption. The bear attack had demonstrated that ordinary wildlife was being affected by someone's influence, and we needed to be ready to treat injuries that went beyond normal physical trauma.
The defensive wall had grown substantially during the week, now extending nearly half-way around the settlement. The men worked in shifts from dawn to dusk, their efforts driven by the knowledge that enemies could appear at any time. The structure was becoming increasingly sophisticated. The clearing around the settlement had been expanded even further, creating open ground where enemies would have no cover to hide their approach. Guard posts had been established at strategic points, with warriors maintaining constant watch for signs of threats or corrupted wildlife.
Thrakul had been conducting daily rituals using the Ward of Eternal Flame the divine artifact glowed with a warm light whenever he held it during the rituals, and I could feel waves of protective energy spreading outward from its position near the central fire. Morvak had organized the tribe's warriors into more formal defensive units, with specific responsibilities. They practiced and spared daily with their weapons when not busy building the wall or other tasks that require strong bodies.
The women had been stockpiling food, medicine, and other essential supplies, working under the assumption that the supernatural winter might last longer than any normal cold season. Children were being taught to recognize signs of anything unusual and to seek adult help immediately/
Despite the constant preparation and growing anxiety, the community had pulled together remarkably well. People supported each other through the stress and uncertainty, sharing resources and knowledge freely. Even the injuries from the bear attack had become a learning experience, with Mirael teaching several other women her techniques for treating supernatural corruption.
It was near the end of this intense week of preparation, during a brief lull in the snowfall, that the next significant development occurred.
Jorak, one of the scouts who maintained watch from the forest's edge, came running into the settlement with news that immediately captured everyone's attention. His face was flushed with exertion and excitement as he sought out Morvak to deliver his report.
"Trading party approaching from the eastern path," he announced breathlessly. "Maybe twenty people, moving slowly. But Chief... they have animals with them. Large ones that look like wolves, but bigger. And they're not hunting the travelers they're walking alongside them like companions."
This news caused immediate commotion throughout the settlement. Trading parties were welcome during normal times, bringing news from distant communities and opportunities to acquire rare goods. But these were not normal times, and the Sun God's warnings about enemies disguised as helpful strangers made any unexpected visitors potentially dangerous.
Morvak immediately began organizing a defensive response. "All warriors to positions," he commanded. "Weapons ready but not openly threatening. We greet them with caution but not hostility. If they prove to be genuine traders, we welcome them. If they prove to be servants of the ice spirits..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Everyone understood that the tribe would defend itself against any supernatural threat, regardless of how it presented itself.
I found myself positioned near Mirael and several other women who would be responsible for treating any injuries that might result from conflict. From this vantage point, I could observe the approaching party while remaining ready to assist with medical needs if the situation deteriorated.
The wait stretched for nearly two hours, during which tension gradually built throughout the settlement. Guards called out periodic updates on the trading party's progress, confirming that they were indeed moving slowly and appeared to be burdened with trade goods rather than weapons. But the reports about their animal companions remained troubling—large wolf-like creatures that showed no signs of threatening their human companions.
Finally, as the sun reached its highest point in the winter sky, the trading party emerged from the forest into the cleared area around the settlement.
What we saw was unlike any trading expedition I had witnessed or heard described. The group consisted of approximately twenty men and women, dressed in furs and leather garments that marked them as travelers from distant regions. They carried heavy packs and pulled crude sleds loaded with trade goods, moving with the practiced efficiency of people accustomed to long journeys.
But it was their animal companions that captured everyone's attention. Accompanying the human traders were nearly a dozen large dogs though unlike any dogs I had seen in this time period. They were massive creatures, standing nearly waist-high on adult humans, with thick brown and tan coats and distinctive facial features that included prominent jowls and expressive eyes. Their size and coloration reminded me strongly of certain modern breeds, though they possessed the more muscular build and alert demeanor of working animals rather than pets.
The dogs moved with confident familiarity alongside their human companions, clearly well-trained and socialized to human contact. They showed no signs of the aggression or wildness that might be expected from wolves or other wild canines, yet they were formidable creatures that could serve as both protectors and hunters for the trading party.
The leader of the trading expedition was a tall man with graying hair braided with small metal ornaments that caught the winter sunlight. He raised his hands in the universal gesture of peaceful intentions as his group approached the settlement's defensive perimeter.
"Greetings, people of the forest" he called out in a dialect that was similar enough to the local language for me to understand, though with distinct differences that marked him as coming from a distant region. "I am Kardek of the Eastern Hills, servant of great Anunnaki, God of Dogs and Beasts. We seek trade and shelter, offering goods and friendship to those who would welcome us."