Lazarus awakes to the cold, his breath in front of him. It wasn't the dull chill of stone halls or the night air, but biting unforgiving cold that crept into his lungs with every breath. He exhaled slowly and froze as a pale cloud bloomed before him.

  “Great...” He muttered. The cold was better than remembering Melnock.

  The craft was still moving, he leaned forward peering through the large window trying to see the ground as it slowly descends through thick and heavy rolling clouds. Snowflakes strike the glass, clinging on for mere moments before the gusts of wind swept it off. Below him stretched a world of ice, endless white plains broken only by the fierce jagged rocks, the endless expanse leaves him feeling alone, a feeling he is all to used too, but somehow, this felt different, how could he spend his time in such an empty cold place. He may have been alone in Lumenhaven, but in a city of that scale you are never truly alone, not like this.

  The ship touches down into the soft snow with a dull whump, an almost satisfying sound as snow explodes outwards in a swirling halo.

  “Oh it is cold.” Lazarus groaned, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. “I was not expecting this.” he shivers in the craft. “Why could my mission not be on a warm sunny beach?” Lazarus chuckles to himself.

  The door slowly slides open, hesitant, protesting as if frozen at the seams. As it opens a blast of icy wind tore inside, Lazarus stepped out grabbing his rifle as he goes, immediately swallowed by a blizzard.

  White. Nothing but.

  Snow stung his face, visibility reduced to barely a few steps ahead.

  “Theun!” A voice trills out through the blizzard. It didn't echo the way it should have.

  Lazarus turned sharply. “Hello?” he shouted back, his voice falling short in the vastness.

  Nothing answered. Silence.

  He took a cautious step forward, boots crunching loudly in the snow.

  “Lazarus!”

  He spun again, just as the ship roars behind him. The craft lifted into the sky, engines howling, and vanished up into the blizzard.

  He stared into the sky after it.

  “Great, I really am on my own.” he mutters to himself in the snow.

  He slung his rifle securely across his back and pulls his cloak tight trying to keep the cold out of his bones. That was when he saw movement, something dark shifting through the snow.

  Crunch.

  Footsteps.

  “Lazarus, is that you?” The voice calls again making him feel uneasy.

  “Yes, I am here.” Lazarus yells back.

  “Your training begins...now.”

  Suddenly the shadow vanishes from the distance.

  “Wait...What?” Lazarus shouted into the snow. “What do you mean?”

  “You are a scout are you not?” the voice echoes.

  “Yes... I guess.” Lazarus calls back.

  “Then, you can find me.” the voice calls again from further away.

  Lazarus hesitated, then moved forward, snow crunching beneath his boots.

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  “Crunch, crunch.” the voice shouts out. “ I can hear that from miles away.” the voice taunts. “Gonna have to do better than that Chosen.”

  Lazarus winced looking down at his feet and his big clunky boots. “Well I can not take those off in this weather, I will get frost bite.” he mutters to himself. Instead he crouches low and began moving slowly, creeping step by step carefully edging along. Hos cloak drags through the snow behind him.

  “That is better, now you are thinking like a scout.” he says loudly.

  Lazarus doesn't respond, focused on staying quiet.

  Ahead barely visible beneath a thin dusting of snow was a footprint, he brushed it gently with his hand, revealing it's shape more clearly.

  A smile tugged at his lips, he trusted something he couldn't see, the first true sign of being a scout.

  A crunch from behind.

  He spins...

  Nothing is there.

  Before he could react something hit him like a boulder, sending him tumbling through the snow. Lazarus was thrown onto his back snow exploding around him. A moment later a hand reached out of the blizzard and hauled him back to his feet.

  “Easy.” says a main with a grin. “Training over.”

  The man was coated in snow, dark hair pulled back, rugged looking with a dark beard, full and strong, his eyes sharp and amused. Wearing multiple heavy layers of fur to help him stay outside in the snow for long periods of time.

  “My name is Wolf.” he said gripping Lazarus's arm firmly. “It is good to meet you, finally.”

  Lazarus finally exhaled after being winded. “Nice... surprise.”

  Wolf laughed. “Sorry, not many visitors up here.” he gestured to the blizzard. “Come on, village is this way.”

  “People live out here?” Lazarus gasped while saying it.

  “Oh yes, Shoven hate the cold.” Wolf chuckled. “Makes it perfect.”

  He gestured towards the storm out side the cave entrance. “Nature keeps balance up here. Any who does not belong here does not last long.”

  They step towards a cave mouth.

  “Here we are.” Said Wolf.

  “I thought you said village?” asks Lazarus.

  Wolf grinned. “Tarule, village in a cave.”

  Inside warmth rushed over Lazarus like a wave. Firelight danced along the carved stone walls. Homes set into the rock, the market ahead bustles with traders. Shipped in from all over Shahero. Under the cover of darkness to avoid any Shoven detection. Crafters working on armour and weaponry in the blacksmith guilds, plumes of smoke rise up through the air towards the ceiling of the cave and out of vents carved to lead outside.

  People laugh outside a tavern, Lazarus isn't used to the happy laughing voices of people. It was alive. No boundaries. No rules. No orders.

  “Welcome to Tarule.” Wolf said with his arms spread wide open.

  “There is one simple rule here... Make yourself useful.”

  The approach a table outside a tavern and Wolf signals for Lazarus to sit. “Please, let us drink.”

  They both sit, as a young bartender approach, green eyed with red hair, and an inviting smile.

  “Hello Wolf.” She says with a polite smile. “Who is this?” She says looking to Lazarus.

  “Lazarus.” Wolf replied. “He just arrived here, and we would like two snow ales.”

  The girl, Sonia, blushed and hurried away.

  Wolf smiled. “She likes you.”

  Lazarus flushed. “Lets focus.”

  Wolf's tone shifted from friend to mentor. “You have talent kid, but you could not sense me, and that will get you killed.”

  “It was a challenge out there.” Lazarus protested.

  “Yes... that was the point.” Wolf replied. “This will not be the last storm.”

  Lazarus nodded humbled.

  “Now, Lazarus, there is a creature out there.” Wolf continued. “It is beautiful, but dangerous and it is killing hunters, and it must be stopped.”

  Lazarus frowned. “Is there not another way?”

  Wolf studied him for a moment. “Every creature up here has a place.” He said quietly. “When one dies, something else fills the space it leaves behind.”

  Sonia arrives back with two large tankards of snow ale, ale made from plants grown inside the village in the small underground farm and filtered through the snow, leaving a crisp and earthy taste, loved by many in Tarule.

  As she places them down she smiles at Lazarus, she had obviously undone a button on her blouse as she smiles at Lazarus. Leaving Lazarus slightly flustered.

  “There you go gents, enjoy.” Sonia winks and walks back inside.

  “Sorry, as I was saying, you need to learn the weight of the kill, anyone can pull a trigger.” Wolf locks eyes for a moment. “Living with it is the skill.” He leans back slightly. “Every kill takes something with it, sometimes it takes something from you.”

  Lazarus swallowed. “When do we start?”

  “Tomorrow.” Wolf said. “Storms been acting weird today.” he said. “Animals moving where they should not be. Like the mountains are shifting their balance.”

  “But that is a problem for tomorrow, lets get you some rest.” As they stand to leave Sonia runs out of the tavern. “Will you be here tomorrow?” She asks, her green eyes gleaming like emeralds. Her dark full red hair looking like flames, her chest risen up towards Lazarus. “Maybe... a drink?”

  Lazarus smiled nervously. “Yea, I would like that.” Lazarus doesn't remember how long it has been since anyone asked him to stay.

  Wolf starred at him in an utter disbelief as they walked on.

  At last, Wolf stopped outside a stone house, lit by torches outside, glowing blue, picking out the details of the stone walls. “This is you, I am next door.”

  Lazarus steps into the house, but sees the bed straight away, the warmth of the house envelopes him, he set his rifle down in to the corner of the room and collapses down on the the plush warm bed. Looking up to the ceiling he didn't even have enough energy to check his new accommodation. The bed could have been in the middle of a sewer in Melnock and he still would have been comfortable, right now his body just wanted sleep.

  “Yes.” he whispered. “I needed this.”

  Sleep took him almost instantly.

  Tomorrow. He would learn how not to miss.

  Thanks for reading!

  Every time someone spends a few minutes in the world of Shahero, it honestly means more than I can properly put into words. Seeing people follow the journey of Tyron, Samantha, Lazarus, Freya, Cid, and Zara makes all the hours of writing worth it.

  If you enjoyed the chapter, feel free to leave a comment or follow the story. I read every comment, and it genuinely helps the story reach more readers here on Royal Road.

  A few people have also asked how they can support the project as I work toward eventually publishing the book. If that’s something you’d like to help with, there’s a support link below that goes toward editing and preparing the story for print.

  No pressure at all though—reading the story is already huge support.

  Question for readers:What moment in this chapter stood out to you the most?

  See you in the next chapter.

  — Matthew Cooke-Sumner