“Tomas? Is that you?”
He swore that the voice sounded familiar. But before he could even begin to work out who it might have been, he felt his eyelids grow heavy and exhaustion take hold, falling to the ground unconscious.
※
The next hour was a total blur.
Tomas felt others carrying him. Rough fingertips, gloved hands.
Warmth. He was startled as he was immersed in a sudden, comforting radiance, the exact opposite of the cold he had endured. Then softness as the bitter cold finally ended.
Voices, lots of voices. Multiple people, men, and women. Even some children, he swore. No faces, though. Only swirling blurs of colour and darkness.
Tomas drifted in and out of consciousness until he was able to gather himself. He opened his eyes to see timber beams above him supporting a thatch roof, lined with layers of animal pelts for insulation.
It was still night, but the room he was in had a gentle orange glow from a roaring hearth to his side. He turned his head, staring into the blazing flames. The heat was intense yet incredibly welcoming, like a dip in a hot spring.
He was laying down naked on a makeshift bed, covered by furs and blankets;
As he came to, his vision grew sharper, and his mind cleared. He made out the shape of Lynn, sitting upright next to him by the fire and sipping a cup of tea. She too was naked, swashed in a large fur blanket to cover herself with her tricorn hat placed in her lap. The chained vial swung from around her neck.
Lynn looked down at him. “You’re awake! I was beginning to worry,” She almost sounded relieved.
“What… happened?”
“The cold got to you, but we reached this village just in time. Thankfully, these people brought us inside and warmed us up. They seemed to recognise you,” Lynn explained.
“What? Who are they?” Tomas murmured, trying to get the strength to sit up.
“Take it slow, you’ve been out for a little while. They are bringing us some soup, they will be back any moment.”
Tomas eyed his surroundings nervously, still unsure. They were in someone’s house by the look of it, set up by the fire to fight away the cold that had nearly defeated them.
The door swung opened, the wind outside now roaring. Two black silhouettes entered before latching the door shut.
“You’re up! How are you feeling?” one of the figures said, slowly approaching. The fireplace fought the darkness away, illuminating the old woman’s face who had spoken.
Tomas immediately recognised her, gasping as he did. “Old Bertha?”
The woman knelt, handing Tomas and Lynn each a warm bowl of soup. She grinned as she nodded to Tomas, her smile accentuating her wrinkled face.
“Drink this. It will help get you back on your feet,” she said. Tomas had grown up hearing that croaky voice every day as a child in Brittlepeak. He had not seen her since he had been conscripted to the king’s army with Rilan.
Tomas was gobsmacked. “What are you doing here?!” he said.
Lynn began slurping at her soup, not bothering with the spoon that had been offered.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Old Bertha chuckled, sitting by the fire in a dilapidated chair.
“We… I…” Tomas didn’t know where to even begin. “Where are we?”
“You are home, Tomas,” Old Bertha said. Her smile revealed a set of brown teeth. “We found you on the edge of town as we were preparing for the coming blizzard. Half-frozen to death, you both were.”
She was right- this was certainly her home. Tomas recognised the familiar, stale smells, the hanging herbs over the hearth, the old cookware and the dilapidated furniture.
“This can’t be… we are in Brittlepeak?” Tomas said, baffled.
As he thought about it, however, it began to make sense. His village was located beside Mooncrest Mountain, so when he and Lynn had escaped down through the drains, they must have somehow ended up coming out near his old home.
What were the odds that they would happen upon his small home village in amongst all this mess?
“They brought us indoors to warm us up,” Lynn said.
“They?”
Tomas looked back at the door to the house where the second figure still stood, cross-armed and hidden in shadow.
“Never thought I’d be seeing you again,” the man in the dark spoke. His voice, while familiar, was callous.
Tomas felt a chill run down his back that no cold could have brought on. The older man stepped into the light. Unshaven with a filthy face, a blood-stained apron and lifeless expression. Tomas gulped, averting his eyes straight away.
“Father,” Tomas murmured.
His acknowledgement was only met with a cold glare. He was probably just as surprised to see Tomas as Tomas was to be back home. Tomas had not warned his father that he was leaving Brittlepeak when he had been conscripted. He did not seem all that happy about it.
“Why are you back in Brittlepeak?” his father snarled, stepping closer like a towering giant. Tomas shuffled back a little, feeling his childhood fears begin to creep back to life.
“Come now, Evin, now is not the time to be hard on the boy,” Old Bertha said, gesturing for him to be seated.
Evin ignored the old woman, staring down at his son. “No son of mine will ever be a deserter from the king’s army,” Evin threatened, clenching his fist. “What happened? Why’re you here?”
Tomas could feel his throat closing, just like on that night. He tried to speak some words, any words, but all that came out were nervous breaths. “I… I…”
Lynn interjected, choosing to answer for him. “He was on a mission to the Grand Repository.”
Evin scowled at the girl, and then back at his
