Chapter 1
Chapter One
Riya leaned her elbows on the sill of her small cottage window and looked out over the sparkling white that blanketed the beach.
Sipping on the steaming mug of tea, she sighed and let the warmth of the brew spread through her as she watched gentle waves wash away the edge of the fresh snow, revealing midnight sand beneath.
Riya loved her seaside cottage. She was just far enough away from the hectic bustling city of Frosborg to have peace and quiet, yet close enough to venture in when she needed supplies.
The city was only a two-day trip from her cottage, and that was how she liked it, blissfully alone in her small, comfortable home by the sea. It was her paradise.
The sky was a beautiful blue this morning, clear and bright, allowing the sun to shine fully. Unusual for this time of year, which meant today was going to be a good day, the perfect day to begin preparations for the city’s Yule celebration.
Frosborg’s Yule festival transformed the city each year, stretching from dusk till dawn and welcoming in the new year.
All the townspeople from the northern villages gathered together, full of excitement and joy, sharing wishes for a better year with calmer winters and good cheer.
However, for Riya, the festival meant more than merriment—it meant survival.
The profit from that one magical night would sustain her until the following year’s celebration.
Her family had been the sole provider of the traditional celebratory confections, biscuits, pastries, and breads for the past two hundred years.
Townsfolk would purchase armfuls of her wares, stockpiling enough treats to satisfy their cravings until the turn of seasons brought Yule around again.
And Riya, being the last in her family line, had shouldered the task alone these past three years since her mother’s passing.
It was a duty that felt both sacred and suffocating.
Although it was a time of cheer and good tidings, it was also a time of sadness for her.
She loved the quiet solitude of her cottage nestled along the Frost Sea, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little lonely sometimes.
It would be nice to have someone to share this place with from time to time.
A heaviness settled over Riya as she took the final sip of her tea and allowed her shoulders to relax.
She looked down at the pattern of leaves at the bottom of her cup and frowned.
There were no leaves at the bottom, per usual.
Somehow, they had all stuck around the top, creating a perfect line, only broken by the spot she had been sipping from.
Her grandmother taught her to read tea leaves long ago, and one thing she remembered was that a broken image or shape was never a good thing. A fractured ring could only foretell of a challenge in your path, something coming that would change everything. She eyed the wet, dark leaves suspiciously.
Bang!
Riya jumped, dropping her mug, and it shattered at her feet.
Feathers clung to her window, and her heart raced as she peered out, looking down to see a crow lying in the snow.
The poor thing twitched and then jumped up onto its taloned feet, taking off and flying out over the sea, although a little wobbly.
She didn’t need any bad omens, not with the festival only a week away.
At least the bird hadn’t died, because that would have been bad indeed.
As she watched the bird fly out toward the horizon, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sea, sparkling beneath the warm rays of sunlight.
It was calm for this time of year, no white peaks, only quiet, smooth blue waters.
She let her eyes wander to the beach, where much of the snow had now been melted away, when something caught her gaze.
A tuft of something vibrantly red was peaking up from the snow.
Riya frowned, squinting to inspect the strange object further, only to notice that the strip of red was attached to something much larger.
Was it some kind of animal? In all her years she had never seen an animal with fur that color.
Should she inspect it? Whatever it was, it wasn’t moving.
And who knew how long the creature had been there.
It was entirely possible it had been dead, frozen beneath the snow for weeks, only now to be revealed by the unseasonably warm day, which seemed to have melted away inches of snowfall.
She should go check on it, whatever it was. If it was a dead animal, then she didn’t want the snow lions coming around to scavenge. With a heavy sigh, Riya bent, cleaning up the pieces of her broken mug before donning her boots and furs and stepping out into the crisp, cool air.
The sun felt like a comforting embrace, baking into her exposed skin and she closed her eyes, soaking in the warm rays for a moment, reveling in the tingle along her forehead and cheeks, before grabbing an axe from beside her woodpile and heading down to inspect the creature.
As she made her way down, she glanced back up to the sky, frowning as the unmistakable grey of storm clouds seemed to mar the horizon.
She knew it had been too good to be true. A storm was coming.
The snow had melted more than she expected and she slipped her way down the sloping beach, almost losing her balance several times, and decidedly uncertain of her decision to carry an axe down the unstable terrain.
As she got closer, her skin prickled beneath her furs, not from the light chill in the air, but from what the object was in the snow.
A body.
Riya gasped, gripping two hands tightly around the handle of her wood axe. The body didn’t appear to be moving, and it was face down in what remained of the melting snow. She crouched, surveying the surrounding landscape for any movement.
She didn’t get visitors, her cottage being too remote and the trek too strenuous even for the few friends she had acquired over the years, especially during the peak of winter. So finding a body so close to her home, or even in the miles surrounding her property, was more than a little alarming.
After several quiet moments of keenly watching the beach and the forests beyond, Riya found no apparent sign of danger and allowed herself to creep closer to the person.
There was no sign of bleeding, no streak of red in the snow.
In fact, the only bit of red was their blindingly bright hair.
Never in her years had Riya seen red hair in this shade.
Her own wavy locks had traces of bronze, but nothing so stark.
Shuffling closer to the form, she couldn’t help but notice the strangeness of their clothing.
They weren’t wearing any warm furs, and their pants seemed to be made of an extremely light fabric.
It was a dark cerulean with flecks of silver thread sewn in a swirling pattern throughout.
The sleeves of their tunic were of the same material but black, and there was a vest that matched the color of their trousers, with the same silver detail along the base hemline.
Riya frowned, because she wasn’t sure if she had seen anything like it in color or design at the dress makers in town.
Where had they gotten such garments? She suddenly realized that every inch of their skin was covered, their hands and feet sunken beneath the white snow.
And then she grunted at her own stupidity and shook her head, because she should have checked to make sure they were still alive to begin with.
Laying the axe beside her, she placed one hand on their waist and another on their shoulder, and pushed with great effort, rolling the person over onto their back, only to let out a startled scream, falling back and pushing herself away from them.
Birds scattered into the sky as the force of her scream echoed through the trees.
It was a man, and his skin was pink.
Was he some kind of demon? She’d heard of the monster to the south, in the Phantom Wood, could this be the creature?
But they had always been depicted as being starkly white in skin and hair, and there was nothing white about this person’s hair nor skin.
What was this man, and where had he come from?
Snatching up her axe once again, she nervously reached out with her free hand to check if he was still alive, nearly flinching as her fingers met with the skin at the side of his neck, because not only was there a steady pulse, but his skin was hot beneath her touch, not cold from laying for Gods knows how long in the snow.
He groaned suddenly, and she snapped her hand back as if he might jump up and bite her, getting to her feet and holding the axe in a battle-ready stance.
Her breath quickened in anticipation, but when his eyes shot open, Riya lost her breath entirely, the axe slipping from her grasp and thudding at her feet as she looked into his red eyes.
Another small, pained noise escaped his lips, and he tried to sit up, unsuccessfully. It was then that his strange red eyes locked on her, and he frowned.
“Would you mind helping me?” He rasped in a weak, heavily accented voice, smirking up at her.
Riya was stunned into silence, mouth agape, too surprised to utter a single word. Was he making a joke? Who was this man? He was unable to move, lying in ice and snow, and he was jesting with a stranger as if this was just a normal, everyday occurrence.
When she made no move toward him, he lifted his arm, beckoning her to his side, the gesture slow, as if the slight movement used all his remaining energy. He winced, letting his arm fall, splattering slush onto her boots and the discarded axe just beside them.
Bending, she scooped up the axe and inched closer to the man.
He sighed in relief and attempted to sit up once again, but Riya held out the axe, aiming it down towards his chest. “Don’t move.”