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C** hapter One: "The Frigid Starting Point"**

"During all of my travels, I have come to find that destiny is amongst the most mysterious of things in this world. Whether or not someone wants it to, the powers of fate can often strike anyone, anywhere, at any given time without warning. This especially holds true in the icy, merciless regions of the almighty Norlinth... Where the fox archers fire with lethal precision, the wolf warriors endure the worse battles and the heroes of every race can bring down entire mountains with one hardy punch." - Nez, A Prodigal Explorer

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For the last two weeks, it had always been the same. The vision, the scene of hope lasting in the face of oncoming disaster, it never failed to repeat the same way every time.

Indeed, the guiding vision sent from Serylda the Powerful, one of the three ancient sisters of the north as well as the mightiest ancestor of the Winter Fang wolves... Before the intent eyes of the Winter Fangs' head artic wolf-elder and Klare's closest companion in life, aged Agatha Icebane, the prophetic scene always progressed in the same depressing yet heroic kind of way.

It always began with a terrible snowstorm raging across the awesomeness that was the historical, harsh, rugged landscape of all of Norlinth. A snowstorm that would eventually cover everything in deeper than deep snow along with be consumed by ice blacker than the darkest night sky. Sadly if not distressingly, it always seemed nothing could be done to stop the oncoming storm of snow nor the consuming ice of black which stretched over all that could be seen.

Yet, as the days passed, as daytime was consumed by nighttime, where it appeared like all hope was lost... something most curious never failed to transpire at the last moment.

For during the never ending snowstorm in the visions, from the deep, nearby snow banks, a frantically waving hand would appear first. Then that hand would desperately help pull its panting, naked owner - a healthy, physically fit young human man in his mid to late twenties - out of the piles of snowfall. And for several moments later, looking aimlessly around him, that naked youth who freed himself from the snowy depths always stood in place where he was.

With the flurry of snowy winds raging into his bare back, with his night black hair sweeping with whatever direction the wind was howling, with his lightning blue eyes looking very frightened, the human in question - a living relic of the old times thought lost long ago - would rub his chest to keep as warm as possible while appearing to be like a lamb in distress that had wandered away from his herd. For what seemed like forever, out in the middle of the harsh weather with no sort of clothing upon his body, he would simply glance around in confusion, shiver whenever the winds blew as well as moan sadly to himself for his own reasons.

During the vision of endless snowfall sent by Serylda, as she always watched him in her trances, the lonely human male in question whom suffered from the bitter cold... Agatha never failed in noticing that he acted rather pathetic. Where humans of the old age had been hardened warriors in the tales, he instead whimpered whenever the winds blew. He shivered when the snow whipped around his body. He cringed away from the sinister black ice - powered by the demons of hellnoth - as it grew in size around him.

In all honesty, like Norlinth being buried if not frozen around him, the human was dying. Yet, within a heartbeat, within the blink of an eye, for reasons that couldn't be deciphered yet, the sad scene would dramatically change. The raging storms would cease. The spreading black ice would slow in its progression.

In turn, onto the naked young man shivering in the snowy landscape, brilliant sunlight would break through the heavy collections of storm clouds gathered overhead. Then, no longer barraged by snow or threatened by black ice, encouraged by the appearance of the warm sun, the pathetic excuse of a young man would tentatively look up towards the clearing northern horizon and... he would see it.

In the sky, he would see a strange, eerie symbol of some kind staring back at him from where the sun shined bright; a symbol that depicted an all-seeing eye seated upon a throne. And during that moment where sunlight would be bathing weakening Norlinth in golden illumination, that's when the hordes of questions would hit elder Agatha like an ursine bear charging an enemy.

To the north, the emblem of the eye sitting upon a throne, what in the world did that mean? Why did it never fail in making the freezing, cowering human man suddenly stop cringing in the cold? Why did it make him stand taller, look prouder, make his unsure, lightning blue eyes adopt a purposeful, brave kind of glint? Why did it make him abruptly begin journeying earnestly towards the harshest reaches of the north, ignoring the coming snowstorms and black ice that had formerly hindered his way?

And most especially, as the recently afraid human traveled closer to where he'd seen the symbol of the malicious eye sitting upon the throne, as the whirling snow around him actually began to cover his nude form in the most fabulous of icy armor - the truest of ice - and he broke protruding shards of black ice off of the ground to make himself an epic shield as well as mace, why dearest Serylda... did the vision end there?

Indeed, why would no more of the prophetic scene be shown to curious Agatha, the head of the wolf elders of the Winter Fang clans? Why oh why oh why?

While she sat in her comfortable tent in the middle of the massive, growing Winter Fang encampment entitled "Vallan" located near the "Glacial Mountains" in the northernmost region of Norlinth, why was the head elder of Winter Fang holy elders simply left with no answers to her questions? Instead, with each time Serylda showed her the described vision of the young man heading north, why was she left with only more riddles to try to think through during the course of the day?

By mighty Serylda, by the powers of ice as well as snow, the war between fox and wolf for these northlands was fast approaching! There was no time for these puzzles, these questions, these visions that led to nowhere! Alas, Agatha, needed answers. ANSWERS!

Truly, ever since she had been made head holy elder sixty years ago, ever since the day that she'd witnessed the vision of Klare becoming the ruler of her fellow wolf clans fourteen years ago, ever since the day the goatish Frostlon had allied themselves with the vulpine Foxnen eight years ago, Agatha had always had the necessary solutions to the problems of her hardy people. In the recent past, for instance, she had foreseen the fine alliance between the Winter Fangs and the ursine warriors of the thunderous bear prophet, Garn. She had also predicted that Oken, the Boar Berserker, would pledge his as well as his clan's loyalty to the Winter Fangs too.

Yet, now, today being the day the princess of the Winter Fangs would return from her last week of meditating up at Glacial Reach - the holiest of places of almighty Serylda, the wolf goddess - what did Agatha have going through her head? Nothing.

Indeed, upon the wolf princess's return, when Klare would come to her to seek advice for what to do during the troubling future like always, the head elder of Winter Fang holy wolf elders would have no answers this time. No, she would only have theories for the Winter Fang people during the approaching days of bitter battle. During this coming war for Norlinth, during this fateful battle that would pit the Winter Fang warriors against the archers of Foxnen and the scholars of the Frostlon... it seemed that the gods would only watch the wolves of the north and not help them.

Yet, of all the times to do so, how very curious it was now that the gods had decided not to take part in the war for the north. To be more honest, how very, hmf, inconvenient it was of them to take off when their people needed them more than anything.

"Absurd. During my eighty-eight years alive, this is most absurd." Agatha grumbled to herself, moving her old bones for the first time all day by using her nearby, gnarled stick of a cane to move a piece of good firewood onto the hungry embers of her prophetic fire that warmed her tent, "What good is a seer to her people if she cannot see what the future holds? What good am I to my people? None! That's right, thanks to you, Serylda, I will be of no use to my good people during this coming war for the north."

At this, at saying she would be of no real use to her warrior like people in the future, the head elder of Winter Fang elders rolled her eyes. The aged, icy eyed, greying wolf mother ignored her growing impatience while she said next, "Why, almighty Serylda the Powerful? Why do you abandon us, your wolves, during what will unquestionably be our most glorious hour? Why do you blind me as well as your people to the days that are to come? Why do you throw me off the scent of destiny?"

Naturally, speaking only to the toasty air around her, Agatha received no visible answer from the goddess wolf mother she had just patiently addressed. Instead, with a small pop of its warming flames, the fire snapped some heat into the head elder's face. In turn to this, chuckling to herself at having been singed by several sparks when she had asked her question to Serylda, Agatha leaned back into her pile of animal furs with a weary sigh.

"Alas, who am I to ask you, almighty Serylda - defender of our people, mother of all wolves - why you act the way you do. Perhaps you are trying to tell me as well as my fellows that we have become too reliant on you, eh? Maybe you're trying to show us that we are strong enough without you and that the Foxnen will fall, even when they rely on their own prophets and goddess?" The old, head elder of Winter Fang elders wondered aloud, settling into the warmth of her furs meanwhile, "Yes, yes, that could be your message, no? That sounds reasonable. You wish for us to be strong. To be independent. To look to ourselves for power."

There was a long pause of silence where the fired crackled with energy, where the outside world moaned with icy winds, where Agatha listened to her own heart beating in her chest while her mind ran with so many inquiries. Then, shaking her old head, the old white wolfess couldn't help but continue asking her goddess about what the mysterious future possibly held.

"Yet, forgive me for questioning you but... why do you show me a human - A HUMAN of all things - traveling north rather than Klare, my princess, herself then? Not only that but why does this human go north into the unknown rather south towards battle?" The Winter Fang head elder wondered, half apologetically yet half seriously looking up towards the heavens, "See, that is where I am most confused about your intent, almighty Serylda. Who is this young man you have shown me? What does his appearance mean? Humans are in short supply these days. They do not hold interest in the ways of us anima. They look to their own, as we do ours."

Indeed, this repeating vision of the young human man was a most curious thing. You see, ever since the 3rd of March when Klare had departed to the holy grounds of Glacial Reach to meditate for the oncoming days of war, during these past two weeks filled with mighty snowstorms only Norlinth could produce, head elder Agatha Icebane had - like her foremothers before her - taken to staring into her secure tent's warm bonfire.

There in the dancing flames, there where the orange melded with the red and the red retreated to the yellow and the yellow befriended the orange, the head elder of Winter Fang elders had sought answers to many things. Things that her fellow people could benefit from. Things that could aid the warriors of her folk during the inevitable war for the north... which had officially begun on March 3rd.

Since the day of March 2nd about fourteen days ago, the whole northern world had undoubtedly come to know that a mass of Winter Fang champions had massacred a Foxnen scouting party. In turn, although the Council of War near the Great Barrier Mountains to the south had advised against it, Queen Merilda the Fennec Fox and King Trint the Folf - fed up with tolerating badgering from Wolf Princess Klare's folk - declared that the slain foxnen people would be avenged.

Thus, with the bristling allies of both sides having gathered together since the said declaration, the war for the north was officially underway today. Soon enough, the artic wolves of the north would be fighting the foxes of the south for rule of their world.

To the south, in the capitol city of Foxnen territory, judging from what scouts had recently described to Klare, elder Agatha knew very well that countless legions of foxnen archers as well as Frostlon defenders were gathering together. Not only that, there were rumors that the southern lands beyond even the foxes - where stallions and elk patrolled - were willing to lend what aid they could to the fox rulers where needed.

Either way, soon enough, with their holy prophets encouraging them, the fox queen and king and their allied leaders would march their troops northward towards the Glacial Mountains. That or, if the southern Norlinthians were smart little mice, they would stay inside their own walls where it was safest. Because the forces of the Winter Fangs, the forces of the wolves, bears, boars, here were not to be underestimated these days.

No, having been under the leadership of the wolf princess for the last fourteen years, they - the champions of Norlinth - were very well manned, armed as well as spirited today. The artic wolves were and had always been more than ready to fight in the name of Wolf Goddess Serylda during this prophesized war. A war that'd been looked to for the so many years.

Yet, despite the fact that she knew Klare's own army would be made up of the best warriors Norlinth had ever seen in centuries, despite the fact that Garn's ursine and Oken's berserkers would be backing Klare's claim to the throne of the north, Agatha just couldn't... say for sure that Serylda was blessing the Winter Fangs nowadays.

Truly, as of late, as if scolding the Winter Fangs truth be told, Serylda's visions had been confusing, twisted, warped with scenes of endless snowfall along with the blackest ice covering everything.

And never was it Klare whom was shown in Serylda the Powerful's sent visions. No, it was always the stranger of a young man, a human of all things, who always marched not southwards towards the foxnen but northwards through the worst weather towards the symbolic eye seated upon the throne.

Why? Why did Serylda insist on showing Agatha this nameless young man all of a sudden? What about Klare? What about the Winter Fangs? What about the war for the north?

Confound it! Why were there suddenly so many questions these days... without any real answers?

Many a time in the past had Agatha witnessed in her bonfire prophetic scenes of Klare leading the Winter Fangs to victory over any opponent, of her claiming victories. Ever since the declaration of the beginning of the war for the north, however, the head elder of Winter Fang elders couldn't see straight anymore. All the visions she'd seen for the last two weeks had consisted of endless snowstorms, black ice consuming everything and the pathetic young man... turning from an afraid child into an imposing hero of the Norlinth while purposefully heading north rather than south.

"What are you trying to tell me, almighty Serylda?" Agatha grunted to herself. The aged white wolfess shifted once more from her collection of furs to stoke the fire better, doing her best to untangle her weary thoughts, "For the longest time, you have shown me and my people the way of becoming stronger. When I was twenty-eight, you made me your holy servant. When I was seventy-four, you helped me show Klare, our wolf princess, the way of becoming the leader she is now. Yet, now that I am eighty-eight and the war for the north is inbound... You send me a vision of someone other than Klare? You send me a sign to go north rather than south?"

The comfortable fire crackled, giving the inquiring, head elder of Winter Fang elders no answers.

Meanwhile, as the rest of the world went on with the day, the cold winds outside the tent howled, making Norlinth that much bitterer. The gathered armies of the camp of Vallan readied themselves for when their wolf princess would be coming back today.

Elder Agatha sighed, feeling like her mind was about to explode from frustration, uncertainty, curiosity. For forever, since eight years ago when the Foxnen and Frostlon had united, it'd been made clear that Klare would remain the ferocious, independent leader of the Winter Fangs as well as gain the allies that had come under her banner today. And indeed, with Volibear as well as Olaf following her now as foretold, she would lead a might army against the one following the royals foxes in the south.

Yet, even though the Winter Fangs were at their strongest, even though Klare was more than likely prepared to face her destiny, Agatha just couldn't be sure of anything anymore. Not when she'd been left with no prophetic answers for the last two weeks. Not when Serylda was still sending her signs, visions, hints now of a nameless young man... who did not march south towards war but north into endless blizzards as well as valleys of black ice for reasons unknown.

Considering the scene of the nameless young man going north rather south, was Serylda signaling to Agatha that this really wasn't the time for the war of the north to begin? Could this conflict not wait? During the days to come, was Klare to lead her armies south against Merilda's and Trint's own? Or was she to follow the example of the mysterious young man in the vision and investigate what the north held?

"The time for the ruler of Norlinth to be decided has come, Serylda. For the longest time, I have prayed to you to grant Klare the throne so that she may make the north what it should have always been; strong, proud, united." The head elder of Winter Fang elders grunted, thinking long and hard to herself over things that weren't under her complete control like the days that were to come, "Thus, please, stop confusing me and grant me some answers. Like you have always done, show me the way. Show Klare the way. Show the Winter Fangs the way. I beg of you."

In the end, since fourteen years ago, Agatha had always been and still was the most reliable advisor to her people. Whether she liked what she heard or didn't like it, Klare had never spat upon the words of the head holy elder of Winter Fang elders. Thus, when the princess of the Winter Fangs returned on this day from her meditating in Glacial Reach, Agatha would be honest. For she knew that honesty, in the least, had never led the Winter Fangs, the wolves of Norlinth, astray.

No, in fact, it had always made them stronger.

Wait a moment... Perhaps during her last week being up in blessed Glacial Reach, Klare had gleaned more sense from Serylda's visions than Agatha herself had? Well, hm, yes, that would make sense. As a matter of fact, hopefully that was actually the case. For if that was the case, then both the wolf princess as well the head elder of elders would be able to figure out the unknown future together during the rest of this day. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!

Maybe this was the lesson almighty Serylda had been attempting to clarify for the last two weeks then; Klare needed Agatha and Agatha needed Klare. The wolf princess would need the elder wolfess, the elder wolfess would need the wolf princess. Not only that but the Winter Fangs needed them both as leaders. Unquestionably, everyone would need everyone during the approaching future.

"Ha ha. Curse you yet bless you, dearest Serylda. You work in the most mysterious ways." Agatha chuckled, trying not to think too much about the past week of visions and more on what she would be talking with Klare about in due time now, "Funny how, after so many decades, I haven't caught onto that yet, eh? Regardless, I place my renewed faith in you. I believe that you are still watching over my people and by today's end... you will give them the appropriate direction they need to secure the throne of the north-"

"Elder Agatha!" Someone who sounded quite young abruptly shouted from outside, sounding like a girl. The voice was excited, bold as well as caused a commotion just outside the tent as it announced loudly, "Elder Agatha Icebane! Are you in here? Is she inside, anyone? Quickly, she must come outside! She must!"

"Patience, little Astrid. Patience." Agatha laughed to herself from her place by the fire, managing to get onto her feet while the guards at the entrance of her tent kept the excited caller - Astrid, a well-known wolf pup, it seemed - from barging inside, "Here I come. Slowly yet surely. And as for why such a little wolf like yourself has come to disturb my peace and quiet... I can think of only one reason."

At this, purposefully smiling a grateful smile as well as bowing her old head towards her bonfire, the head elder of Winter Fang elders said with thanks, "Yes, it would seem our dear princess has returned. Welcome back home, Klare. Thank you, Serylda, the Powerful and Wise, for bringing our leader back to us in one piece. Hopefully... she will have the answers I do not have."