The snow and ice began making a cocoon around Baelfire’s body. Almost every part of his body was frozen from the cold. He could hardly bear to stand, he wanted to collapse, he didn't mind freezing to death at that point. Even the cold embrace of death would be warmer than everything Baelfire was feeling. The harsh wind, like a bully, would knock him from side to side, taking the air out of his lungs. It hurt Baelfire to breathe, he would lick his frozen cracked lips to taste the acrid metallic taste of his own blood. He couldn't bear to stand anymore, he just wished to lay down and the wind granted that wish.

Baelfire lay face down in the bitter cold snow, he turned over to his back but more snow fell onto his face. He'd lay on his side curled tightly in a ball with his cloak wrapped tightly around his frozen body. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know where he came from, he didn't know what time it was, he didn't know if he would survive. He thought around his parents, maybe he could see them again. He closed his eyes and accepted the fate that he would get, his consciousness slowly slipping from his grasp.

Baelfire didn't know how long he’d been in that spot. His body had slightly sunken into the snow and the falling snow made a little hill on top of him. He couldn't feel his body so he assumed he was dead but he could manage to feel something smooth poking him against his covered legs. He only thought it was a wolf that was going to eat him so he didn’t move. The creature began digging up the snow to uncover Baelfire's frozen body. Baelfire forced open his frozen lids, he blurry eyes set on what looks like a large black fox slowly dragging him out of the snow. He laid on his back, the snow much lighter than before and the harsh wind, gone. Slowly, like a focusing camera, Baelfire’s eyes began to clear up, giving him the ability to see again.

The creature that had uncovered Baelfire's frozen body was indeed what seemed to be a large fox, about the size of an adult male alpha wolf. Its shiny ashen brown coat was speckled with snow, making its coat look darker than it was. It sat in the snow in front of Baelfire seemingly waiting for him. Baelfire, slowly and painfully, started to raise to his legs. Pain pierced through his body like thousands of heated needles. He dusted off the majority of snow from his body and checked on his magic stone, it remained where it was around his neck; its glow and luster seemingly gone. Baelfire rubbed the stone trying to figure out what was wrong with it but the fox before him had gotten up and started to walk away. He decided to follow the mysterious fox, it the old stories his mother told him foxes were like guides and that was one of the few things he still believed now.

Through the forest, navigating around trees and tramping through snow. This forest now piqued Baelfire’s curiosity, he knew this was the dark forest but the sunlight was beaming in, sparrows and finches sang beautiful melodies, the snow was only about an inch now. Where was he, he wondered. He continued to follow the large fox as it occasionally looked back to see if he was still there. After about thirty minutes, Baelfire could finally feel his appendages. His frost-bitten body now left with a soft warm tingle as the sun glittered on him. He didn’t seem to notice but even the stone had regained its beauty and luster that it once had before.

After a few more minutes, Baelfire finally noticed the stone had changed but that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Baelfire’s stomach growled furiously as if it were a monster. He remembered the bag that his grandmother gave him filled with food and clothing, he reached back but it hit him. It wasn’t there. He knew he couldn’t turn back now, he’d already been walking for an hour and he didn’t want to lose the fox. He continued to walk and as if the gods had heard his plead for food he began to smell something enticing in the distance. He sniffed the air in the direction it was coming from, the direction the fox was leading him in. The fox was leading him to food.

“Excuse me fox…,” he whispered, trying to get used to talking with a dry throat, “I am quite hungry so can we go a bit faster please?” His question was answered quickly when the fox started to speed up his trot to a run, its agile legs moving quickly. Baelfire ran after it, trying not to run into trees or get his billowing cloak caught on something. In the close distance he could see an old wooden cottage that still seemed in tact. Smoke blew up and out of the chimney and the scent of smoked meats only got stronger. Baelfire finally stopped running as he was a few feet from the cottage. He panted and coughed at the cold, not as frigid as before, filling his lungs. When Baelfire had calmed he looked around and noticed the fox had disappeared. He circled around the house and called out to it but apparently it was gone. The sun began to go down and the dark forest began to go back to its cold and scary nature so Baelfire ran inside the cottage.

Inside the cottage was small but homey, there was a lit fireplace with roasted meat above it, a couple of chairs, and a small bed. The sight of all this drew tears to Baelfire’s beautiful sunset eyes, the gods must have blessed him with this gift and he was determined to cherish it. Baelfire had grabbed a piece of warm posted meat from above the beautiful fire. He sat down in one of the chairs and began to scarf it down. Even though he was hungry he could only finish one whole chunk of the two that were there. After he was done, his eyes started to droop and he began to yawn. He moved to the bed and laid down, using his look as a blanket and pillow. He soon began to fall into a dream filled slumber, familiarly being plagued with visions of things he’d seen in him previous dream but now in a new light.

The lotuses, the things that led him into the dark forest in the first place. The snowy forest, the dark forest he was in now. The glowing stone, the same he was wearing wrought his neck. But what about the castle? What about the strange silhouette? Baelfire had no idea what fate had in store for him but he had a hunch that his dreams were giving him hints. What was his next step? Find the castle.

~

For seven days and six nights, Baelfire would remain inside that cottage. Planning, preparing, mapping out where he’s been and trying to find where he’s going. He hunted for himself, gathered for himself, and through the things he’s been doing he hasn’t seen his guide fox at all. No fur, no paw prints, nothing, almost like it was swept away by the wind. No problem though, Baelfire was managing to make it on his own. He would contemplate if he still wanted to go to the castle or live out the remainder of his life in the seemingly abandoned cottage.

Each night he slept his dream would get for vivid now including various animals, enchantresses, royalty, monsters, and blood. Lots of blood. But in all his dreams he never saw people’s faces which included the one he wanted to see the most. The silhouetted man. He longed to see his face for reasons he did not know and could neither comprehend. Through his longing desires he tried to push past them. He did things to fill his time like scavenge, draw, gather, search, and stare at his mysterious stone. In the time he had spent in the cottage it would regularly have a pulsating glow in the morning and a soft ambient light at night which Baelfire quite enjoyed.

On the seventh night of Baelfire living in the cottage he began to he something. Something like steps slowly coming towards the cottage. Baelfire became antsy, he turned out the lanterns until only the glow of the fireplace remained. He grabbed his a large stick that he found in the forest and would use for self defense. The stick in one hand, a makeshift knife hanging on his waist and his stone around his neck, he waited. He breaths slow and steady and he listened to the steps that only got closer to the cottage. Baelfire readied himself, like a cat ready to pounce.

The door swung open and a figure walked inside holding a lantern. It was covered by a large fur coat that hid its face. The stranger set its lantern down and began lighting the others. Baelfire, hiding safely, readied to attack as he monitored the person. The stranger took it coat off and suddenly Baelfire felt less scared. The person before him was older than him, maybe late thirties or early forties, he was thin but not frail, graceful even, their dark brown hair was graying evenly and there were soft wrinkles around their sweet and mysterious onyx colored eyes. The stranger looked around and in a gentle tone said “You may come out, I won’t hurt you.”

Slowly Baelfire rose from his hiding spot still suspicious about the stranger. The man simply extended his hand and said “I’m Iris, you are?” Slowly Baelfire would walk towards him, he took the man's hand and shook it softly. “I’m Baelfire,” he said, “but you may call me Bael.” Iris shook his hand softly and smiled showing off his wrinkles more. Soon Baelfire would get comfortable with the man and began living with him but soon things would change again.