35. Vesper
VESPER
Once we cross the largest expanse of water, we stay along the edges.
The Frostbit Sea buts up against the edges of the Verdant Nexus.
All along the edges, the lush, green rainforest is frozen in ice, forever reaching toward the ocean.
Within those trees, we’re watched by numerous creatures, some of which we’ve seen before and others we haven’t.
The large bugs hover just away from the frost. Furry creatures linger in the trees, watching with wide eyes and calling to each other.
Quickly, we decide not to set foot into the Verdant Nexus quadrant until we’re at least a Tier Two.
There’s so much of it we’ve yet to explore.
The edges of the Frostbit Sea are covered in ice.
Floating chunks clunk against the boat as we push them out of the way.
Every now and then we have to go into deeper water to avoid a large ice sheet we can’t push past. Those are the times I glance nervously toward the water.
Even if the Narwhal is helping us, it makes me nervous.
When the Ice Grief Orchard comes into view again, my shoulders relax a little, even if it means we’re going to be faced with the frigid cold snow yet again.
Luckily, this region seems smaller than the Verdant Nexus.
I’m hoping we can make quick work of the Ice Grief Orchard and make it to the final zone in the Shatterlands, find the Minor Boss, and leave this cold hellscape behind.
“Do you think we need to worry about the vines like in the Silent Forest?” Locke asks suddenly as we grow closer to where we plan to leave the boat behind.
I hadn’t even thought of that. We’d entered the Ice Grief Orchard on our way to the Broken Caldera. Nothing had attacked us then but . . .
“The trees are frozen,” I point out, my eyes on the icicles hanging from the bare branches, fruit forever encased in ice hanging sporadically along them. “I don’t think the vines will be moving, let alone attack us. Plus, this is a different region entirely.”
“The trees are a barrier,” Svetlana says. “Clearly.”
I glance at her in confusion. “A barrier for what?” I ask, frowning.
“Between the outer regions and the inner,” she answers. “After all, you must have three keys to enter the inner regions. It would make sense for there to be some sort of physical barrier, no?”
I blink at her words and then look at her where she balances on my shoulder beneath my hood. “You’re probably right. That does make sense.”
She tilts her head, nods, and then withdraws deeper into the hood when the wind whips past us. I have no desire to see her die again even if she can respawn, so I gently tuck my hood tighter to my face, giving her as much cover and warmth as possible.
“This is your stop!” the Narwhal declares excitedly, pointing to the trees with his horn. “You’ve made it without dying! Congratulations!”
“Thanks, Narwhal,” I say, using the oar to steady myself in the boat as I stand. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
He giggles, his voice deep and low. “Perhaps one more stroke for the road then?” He directs his horn toward me.
I wince when Locke turns his grin toward me. “I’d rather not.”
“Aww,” Narwhal says.
“I’ll do it,” Locke declares happily. The Narwhal directs his horn to Locke who grips it roughly and strokes it like he’s stroking his own cock. He locks eyes with me as he does it, making my face flush red. “Is that good?”
“Oh, yeah,” Narwhal says. “So good. Right there. Oh . . .”
Locke’s grin widens and his eyes don’t move from mine. The Narwhal shivers and sinks into the water deeper, his eyes closing briefly.
“Thank you, Bone Breaker,” the Narwhal says as he pulls away. “As a thank you for your kindness, have this gift.”
A small bottle appears in the air before Locke, who stares at it with wide eyes, confused. He hadn’t stroked the Narwhal’s horn for any reason other than to mess with me, but he’d been rewarded for it.
I suddenly feel like an absolute idiot for not doing it.
Locke plucks it from the air and opens the description window.
“Winterberry Wine,” he reads out loud. “For twelve hours after drinking, reduce all cold damage by half effect. Four servings.” He looks between the bottle and the Narwhal. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” the Narwhal says. “I haven’t had my horn stroked like that in ages.” He shivers. “It was so . . . enthralling.”
It would be weird if it hadn’t paid off.
Locke stores the bottle away in his inventory and then leaps from the boat onto the snowy edge. He makes sure he has his footing beneath him before he reaches back to offer me a hand. I take it and follow him, leaving the boat and the oar behind.
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED
You survived the frostbit sea. How very clever of you.
REWARD: I suppose you should get some XP for that treacherous journey.
A notification pops up showing my XP bar increasing by ten.
“Fuck yeah, I got ten, too,” Locke says. “Maybe we won’t have to grind too much each time if we can get XP this easily.”
The Narwhal starts waving its horn in the air, as if to say goodbye, so I raise my hand and wave.
It was my powers that called him to us, that made it possible for him to save us.
A part of me feels a connection because of that.
If I focus on it, it’s like a tiny silver thread connecting my chest to his, heart to heart.
It’s a strange feeling, one I can’t exactly feel unless I look closer at it.
There’s no control there, no overwhelming power, just a gentle friendly awareness.
Something tells me that the high Tier I rise, the more that thread will grow.
“Bye, Narwhal!” I call as I pull my hyena mask out and slide it down over my face. Not only do I want to be aware of any threats, but it helps keep the wind chill off my cheeks and nose.
“Bye, Vesper,” he answers, waving his fin out of the water at me in return. “I hope you find your dad!”
I freeze, my eyes on the Narwhal as he giggles and dives beneath the water, disappearing.
Locke turns toward me. “What?”
“I don’t know,” I say, pretending confusion. I’m just glad I have my mask on already to hide my emotions.
“Are you looking for your dad?” Locke asks, his eyes on me.
“I don’t have a dad,” I answer. “And if I did, he never came around. I don’t know what the Narwhal is talking about.”
“Huh,” Locke says. “Weird.”
“About as weird as stroking his horn,” I tease, changing the subject.
“Yeah, well . . .” He grins. “Fucking with you got us a reward, didn’t it?”
“It did,” I laugh, shaking my head. “We should start moving. We’ll need to make quick work if we want to get to the next zone in the next few days. Should we stop at the safehouse in the Broken Caldera?”
“Where your Leech lover is probably waiting for us?” Locke says with raised brows. “Probably best to avoid it.”
“He’s not my—” I stop and glower at him. “Regardless, we’ll need to find somewhere to camp. We won’t be able to last in this climate for long stretches of time, even with the new winterberry wine you got.”
He nods. “Alright. Let’s—”
A ball of snow comes out of nowhere and slams against Locke’s face so hard, he topples. He gets his feet beneath him quickly and shoots back up, his brows furrowed, his teeth bared in a snarl. “Who the fuck did that?”
There’s snow on his face, clinging to his hair and jacket, and it makes him look cute despite the look on his face.
Another snowball comes from a different direction and hits him on the opposite side, throwing him off balance.
“Alright, that’s it!” Locke snarls, his hammer appearing in his hand. “Come out here and face me like a man, you coward!”
I pull my own blade from my inventory and look around the white expanse, searching for the source. Giggles echo around us just before a snowball flies from behind a tree and hits me square in the chest. I stumble under the force of it.
Locke snarls and barrels toward the tree where the snowball flew from but by the time he gets there, nothing is there. “What the fu—”
The snowball hits him square in the face, cutting off his words and making me cover my mouth to hide my laughter as the snow slides down and reveals his shocked expression.
And then I catch sight of it. Them? The creatures?
It’s small, less than a meter tall, as it rushes from one tree to the next. It’s white like the snow, blending in so well, I almost miss it. It giggles as it rushes behind the tree, peeks out, and throws another snowball at Locke.
Locke whirls and heads right toward the tree where the creature’s hiding, clearly having spotted it, too. “Why, you little—”
“Stop!” I call.
Locke freezes, his hammer in the air as if he’d been about to beat the ever-loving shit out of the thing. “What do you mean ‘stop?’” he spits. “It’s taunting us.”
“It’s a baby,” I reason. “Look at it.”
Locke looks from me back down to the creature he towers over.
Its eyes widen, giving him the best innocent look I’ve ever seen in my life.
Locke hesitates, and his hammer lowers just a fraction.
The big eyes narrow just before another snowball hits Locke in the back.
The two creatures giggle and rush away, teasing Locke further.
Locke glares at me. “I’ve never been a child person.”
I grin. “What’s the matter? Not paternal?”
“No,” he grumbles. “I hate kids.”
“Bugs, kids,” Svetlana says. “You do a lot of hating, Bone Breaker.”
“There’s a lot to hate,” he replies, storing his hammer away. “So, what do we do about these heathens, then?”
“Ignore them?” I ask, just before a snowball slams into my face. The frigid cold as snow falls down the eyeholes of my mask makes my face go numb immediately and I screech, pushing my mask up on my head and wiping the snow off my face.
Svetlana starts going off in a language I don’t know, but I figure she’s complaining about the cold of the snow as she tucks in tighter to my hood and tries to avoid the snowballs.
“You know what?” I say, leaning down to scoop up some snow. I form it into a ball carefully and look around for the creatures. One of them appears in front of me, giggling as it runs by. “Fuck that. Get ’em!”
I laugh as I throw the snowball and hit the creature on the back of its head.
It falls face first into the snow, still giggling as it starts to move its arms and legs, making a strange print in the ground.
When I reach down for another, I’m plowed in the shoulder by the other creature.
Laughter tumbles out of my throat as I scoop up more snow.
“Come here you, little trouble maker!” I say, running after the creature.
Locke watches me for a minute, his brows high, before he shrugs. Only then does he reach down and scoop up snow. Only then does he start throwing it. When his laughter joins with mine, something in my chest shifts.
Something dangerous.
“Mistakes are made in the Harrow all the time, Vespera,” Cipher pops in. “You are making many.”
“Oh, yeah?” I reply, grinning as I throw a snowball at the creature in front of me. “I assume you’re talking about Locke.”
“Partially,” he answers. “But also, you called these creatures babies.”
“Yes. And?” I say, running away as it throws a snowball at me and misses.
“Ask yourself,” he murmurs, his voice slowly growing more serious. “If a creature is a baby, then it must have a—”
A violent roar fills the air around us and the snowball I’d been just about to throw drops to the ground in front of me. The trees shake, icicles raining down around us, forcing us to cover our heads.
The two small creatures look into the distance, jumping up and down in excitement, shrieking for whatever is coming.
“—parent,” Cipher finishes. “Every baby has a parent.”
The ground shakes as something large starts to walk toward us.
My mouth goes dry.