Zodiac Chronicles: "Wolves"

[Christoph]

(Closed to Sir Artemis.)

*

Year 1816, Winter Descending

Salvic winters. Men shiver at the words alone, imagining icy wind that cuts like knives through the thickest furs. Snow drifts pile a dozen feet high overnight. Trees crackle in the deep, deep cold of nights that stretch for weeks. With the wisest northerners tucked safely away, only the most foolish braved the ice and darkness and wolves.

Wolves. Elijah Belov barely heard their howls through the wind. Snow caked his entire fur-clad body. Only his eyes peeked through. After days lost in the blizzard with no sun or stars, with only a vial of blood to guide him, the sorcerer was all but spent, his magic sapped to ward off the elements. A single glass orb glowed white to light his way, but even it flickered and faded like a guttering candle. Chilled bone-deep and starving, he could barely place one foot before the other, barely focus his mind enough to remain conscious.

One of the most powerful people in the world, and I'm going to get eaten by wolves. They emerged from the swirling snow. Six pairs of blue eyes gleamed in magelight. No ordinary wolves, they stood at shoulder height with long snouts of teeth bared in vicious snarls. Direwolves. Among Salvar's most feared predators, even in favorable conditions, a pack of them would pose a real threat.

But here... the sorcerer was exhausted, weak. This was their domain.

He tried to draw his sword, but his frozen limbs refused to obey. He tried to conjure a spell, but his mind would not focus and the winds of magic ignored his call. The direwolves circled him, pearly white fur bristling as they waited, watching to see if the sorcerer would present a challenge. His legs gave out. He collapsed into the snow as the beasts closed in.