Book One – Chapter 15

In the end, the escort party delivered Yu to the guild — if one could stretch the definition of “delivered” to include a half-starved, three-quarters-frozen wretch who had suffered through days of misery, and “safely” to mean merely alive.

From the outset, fear and exhaustion were Yu’s constant companions. Beneath T̰́̇ͦ̀è̸̷̸̬̤̗̊_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜ȟ̗̍ͤa̶͉͉͍̭̰̅̀̈͜ͅȓ̶̶̛̦͇͙̟̈̿͒ͮ͑̋̚͡u̟͖͔̖̙͙͆̄̿ͩͧ̃̽̓̈̌̀͟͞n’s black nights, terror clung to him like a second set of feathering. He had known darkness before, of course, but not like this. The shadowed halls of Tria’s estate held a comforting stillness, their gloom broken by familiar outlines and the quiet promise of shelter. There was a vast difference between sleeping through T̰́̇ͦ̀è̸̷̸̬̤̗̊_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜ȟ̗̍ͤa̶͉͉͍̭̰̅̀̈͜ͅȓ̶̶̛̦͇͙̟̈̿͒ͮ͑̋̚͡u̟͖͔̖̙͙͆̄̿ͩͧ̃̽̓̈̌̀͟͞n in the comfort of his own bed and enduring the Witching Hour in the domain of the most powerful coven of witches. In the Albweiss Mountains, the darkness was a void filled with howling storms that erased any semblance of safety. Under T̰́̇ͦ̀è̸̷̸̬̤̗̊_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜ȟ̗̍ͤa̶͉͉͍̭̰̅̀̈͜ͅȓ̶̶̛̦͇͙̟̈̿͒ͮ͑̋̚͡u̟͖͔̖̙͙͆̄̿ͩͧ̃̽̓̈̌̀͟͞n, seconds became hours as each crack of a loose rock, each whisper of wind, seemed to promise death. Hunger hollowed him, sleeplessness frayed his thoughts, and the cold … the cold was a parasite. It had crept into Yu’s very marrow, making a home of his suffering, wrapping his lungs in ice with every agonising breath. His clothing, apart from the cloak that Harrow had given him, was sodden, frayed, and utterly useless against the biting winds. His feathers, too, could not keep the sheer masses of wet at bay.

By the second week, Yu could no longer keep track of the guttural cries of the seen and unseen beasts that echoed through the jagged peaks. They came too often and far too close. Harrow’s answering howls were no less unnerving, feral and unhinged, as though she relished every chance to challenge the wilderness. There had been several attacks; ravenous and relentless beasts driven by a hunger that mirrored Yu’s own. Whatever mush they gave him at the end of the day, there was never a moment where he was not starving.