Blood In The Snow

The wind carried a biting chill across the northern tundra, whipping at the edges of the squad’s cloaks. Akari was on Noel's head today, her ears flicking at every crack and crunch of the snow that wasn't the squad's boots. Today felt different - heavier, almost electric. The squad had been briefed thoroughly, yet an uneasy tension lingered over them.

Branek led the formation, spear in hand, scanning the horizon with a practiced eye. Lysandra, staff resting lightly against her shoulder, rubbed her temples, and complained about the early morning chill and how she might have regretted a little too much celebration last night. Ansel adjusted his robes for the millionth time, fingers brushing the beads around his neck as he murmured prayers under his breath.

Noel’s voice cut through the quiet, attempting to sound firm. “No signs of the corrupted spirits for now. Report any suspicious signs you think you see.”

The squad moved as one. Akari felt it was a good time to ask a question, and with a quiet nudge, asked Lysandra innocently, “Why were you so nervous during my first battle?”

Lysandra slumped slightly, eyes half-closed, and slurred with a laugh, “I was extremely drunk and worried I would miss my spells! Alcohol is evil, I should never drink before patrols. Good thing I'm nearly sober now.”

The squad laughed, tension easing. Branek grunted approval. Ansel managed a small nod, chuckling at Lysandra’s admission, his confidence bolstered by the lighter mood.

...

Hours passed with careful observation. The tundra spread endlessly around them, pale and undisturbed, but Akari’s keen eyes caught anomalies. Marks on the snow that didn’t match known creatures, faint scorch lines, and twisted patterns in the ice that reminded her of something… ancient.

She crouched, tracing the strange impressions with her paw. “These marks… I’ve seen them before,” she murmured, almost to herself. The patterns echoed the temple sigils she had glimpsed long ago - the symbol of Thaurach. Her heart skipped, a chill running down her spine.

Branek noticed her pause. “Something troubling, little fox?”

Akari straightened, ears twitching. “They’re different. These corrupted spirits… they bear the sign of the god Thaurach! Not just normal corruption. I'm thinking these could be fragments of him.”

Lysandra stopped beside her, eyes narrowing. “You mean we’re not just fighting monsters, but pieces of the god himself? I really didn't sign up to fight a god!”

“We might have to...” Noel said softly. “Keep your eyes open. Don’t forget anything you see today.”

Ansel just paled and prayed to the gods for this discovery to be false. Branek gripped his spear, his knuckles white.

The squad moved cautiously, noting the strange behavior of the corrupted spirits ahead. Their skin glimmered unnaturally under the pale sun, twisted and rigid. They seemed aware, almost intelligent. They were making sounds as if they were... conversing with each other? The fact that these spirits had enough of their mind leftover to remain sentient was a scary notion.

Suddenly, a flare shot into the sky from another patrol unit ahead. The squad paused, alerting them to a presence they hadn’t expected. Then the ambush came - a sudden surge of these corrupted spirits, emerging from hidden ridges and snowdrifts.

Branek swung his spear in a wide arc, cutting through the first wave. Lysandra chanted a spell, her staff emitting bursts of fire, but more and more of the corrupted pressed in. Ansel began to heal minor wounds and provide defensive barriers, but his hands trembled hard despite his focus.

Noel moved to protect Lysandra and Ansel, deflecting attacks with his own skillful magic and sword. Akari darted around, striking with fire where she could, tail flicking with precise movements. Despite their coordination, the squad realized they were facing something unlike the previous patrol.

The corrupted spirits moved with strange patterns, reacting almost as if aware of their tactics. One lunged at Akari with jagged limbs, its skin etched with Thaurach’s sigil, and she narrowly dodged, her claws slicing cleanly through its arm.

Lysandra yelled, staff flaring, “By the gods, they’re learning! Adjust your patterns!”

Branek grunted, pivoting his spear to intercept a corrupted leaping toward Ansel. “Cover him! Don’t let them break formation!”

Amid the chaos, Akari’s mind recorded everything - every strike, every movement, and every unnatural mark. She knew these details would be vital.

Noel’s spell deflected another blow aimed at Lysandra, but a jagged limb grazed him, throwing him off balance. Akari’s ears flattened as she watched in horror, racing to his side as he stumbled. She skidded to block another attack, claws flashing.

Akari almost died. But, the adrenaline she was feeling numbed her horror at the close brush of death.

The squad pressed forward, their newly formed cohesion tested like never before. Every strike, every mark mattered.

One particularly large corrupted raised its clawed arm to strike Lysandra and Ansel, but Noel leapt, putting himself between them. He was hit hard, stumbling back into the snow.

"Noel!"

Akari’s tail twitched violently as she skidded to his side, eyes wide with fear. She braced herself for the unknown, scanning the snow for the next threat.

The wind howled across the tundra, carrying the eerie cries of the corrupted spirits. Snow swirled around the squad, creating a disorienting veil. Akari’s senses sharpened, each sound, shadow, and movement etched into memory. Noel struggled to his knees, breathing heavily, his expression masked by determination despite the injury.

The ambush continued, a relentless tide of corrupted fragments pressing in from all sides. Akari leapt, ducked, and countered with precise strikes, desperation surging, yet her focus remained split between fighting and ensuring Noel’s safety. She could see the strain on Branek and Ansel, Lysandra’s staff flaring with intense effort, and the relentless adaptability of the corrupted spirits.

Time seemed to stretch, every second filled with strikes, parries, and the chaotic roar of the creatures. Then, in a sudden shift, the largest corrupted lunged with terrifying speed toward Noel, and Akari’s fur stood on end. She could only react instinctively, leaping into a position that might shield him but leaving her breath caught in her chest. Noel stumbled, absorbing the brunt of the attack, and the snow sprayed around him.

Akari froze, ears flattened, tail twitching anxiously. Was Noel... dead?

"No!"

As she exclaimed that word, her emotions flared to never before. All corrupted around them instantly lit up in flames. Ansel in the chaos managed to set the rescue flare off into the sky.

The battle’s crescendo left the squad staggered, the corrupted spirits momentarily withdrawing, but the air was still thick with danger. Akari’s eyes darted between her friends, every muscle tense, her mind racing.

Everything hung suspended, a frozen moment of terror and uncertainty. Noel’s figure swayed slightly, pain etched into his posture.

Then he fell.