Just in time, they managed to organize themselves as Joe and Raffin emerged from the tunnel. They positioned themselves close to the bell, attentively honing their senses in an attempt to hear their conversation.

"Tomorrow's the day, isn't it?"

"Yes, I pray everything goes smoothly. They've earned a shot at a better life, especially that young lad, losing his only parent so young..."

"He's talkin' 'bout me?" Brian muttered under his breath.

"Here," Joe retrieved a small pouch from his robe, his fingers brushing against the worn fabric, momentarily lost in his memories. 

"This holds the letter and some gold for them," he said, snapping back to the present with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Why's that, if you don't mind me prying?" Raffin scratched his head as he accepted the bag. 

"There's history with his mother,," Joe said, his voice softening, while Raffin's eyes widened with surprise.

Before Raffin could fully process the significance of Joe's revelation, a sharp intake of breath from above stole their attention.

Brian, who had been perched on the rooftop of the church near the bell, suddenly dashed down, causing roof tiles to shatter as he hurriedly descended. 

Raffin raised his eyebrow, but Joe's expression remained unchanged, as if he had anticipated this.

Brian descended from the rooftop onto the snow-covered ground with an audible crash, the impact reverberating through his tense body. His chest heaved, and the rhythm of his breaths matched the racing of his heart.

As he advanced towards Joe, his eyes blazed with fury, and his fists clenched and unclenched, as if grappling with the torrent of emotions that threatened to consume him.

"What do you know 'bout my mama?" His voice trembled as he spat out the the words.

The four men stood in a moment of tense silence. Brian's fiery demeanor, once a mere spark, had kindled into a blaze through his trials, his appearance no longer just disheveled but a banner of his relentless spirit. 

Joe, in contrast, wore his nostalgia like a cloak, solemnity etched into the lines of his face as if each wrinkle was a word in the story of his life. 

Raffin, looking up at Asdras, nearing them with a puzzled expression; and Asdras himself, with furrowed brows, trying to make sense of his friend state.

Joe mumbled a brief prayer and then addressed Brian, his voice calm and measured.

"I can't tell you now, Brian. You'll need to undergo the awakening process first. Only then will I share everything with you."

Brian's mind was a whirlwind, each thought a gust of frustration, swirling faster until it spilled over, no longer able to be contained within the confines of his skull.

"You're always keeping secrets, Joe! Is 'bout my mama, damn it!" 

With that, he spun on his heels, his boots crunching against the cold, white ground. His heart raced with a maelstrom of anger and curiosity, each heartbeat echoing the unresolved mysteries of his past as his breath formed frosty clouds in the icy air.

Brian's hand closed around the spear with deliberate urgency. He paused — a brief moment of resolve hardening in his eyes — before he launched himself towards the forest's dark embrace. 

Joe's sigh carved through the silence, his chest rising and falling as he pivoted towards Asdras, his gaze a flash of pure concern.

"Fetch your sword," Joe said, his voice tinged with a blend of urgency and concern as he walked toward the church. "Go to him. He'll need you."

Raffin watched in silence as Asdras dashed after Brian with a sword in his hand. 

"They'll be okay?" 

"May the blessings of Saint Rose be upon us," Joe intoned as he swung open the church door.

"Follow them, stay hidden, and keep an eye on their doings. In time, you'll understand the reason behind my request."

****

Brian dashed through the winter-veiled forest, his boots crunching on the frosted ground as he skillfully navigated the labyrinth of skeletal trees and underbrush. Each breath formed frosty clouds in the icy air, and the sharp scent of pine mingled with the earthy aroma of decayed foliage

Suddenly, he froze, his eyes widening as he caught sight of a pack of six wolves ahead, their sleek, mottled fur camouflaged among the trees.

The world seemed to narrow down to the heartbeats that drummed in his ears as Brian faced the snarling pack.

His hand tightened around the shaft of his spear. The other end kissed the snow-drenched earth. With a sudden lunge, he thrust the spear forward, creating a thin line of death between him and the predators.

The wolves circled him, their steps silent against the ground. The first wolf lunged with bared fangs, but Brian twisted agilely to the side, thrusting his spear forward. The tip found its mark, piercing the wolf's flank

The wolf yelped, retreating back into the pack, but two more advanced, their claws scratching the icy earth.

Unseen amongst the shadows, Asdras remained hidden in the gnarled branches of a nearby tree, his breaths held hostage by the scene unfolding below.

His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. Every snarl from the wolves and every swift move Brian made were mirrored in the tightening grip of Asdras.

He saw Brian roll away from snapping jaws, a streak of red marking his escape. The dance was desperate, filled with the music of snarls and the rhythm of clashing metal against flesh. Each swipe from him carried a silent cry, a fight not just against the beasts but the demons within.

It escalated into a deadly ballet as Brian’s spear danced through the frigid air, finding its mark again and again until the cries of the wolves were swallowed by an eerie silence.

The last of them fell with a thud that echoed through the icy woods, its eyes dimming as life ebbed away.

A breath of wind whisked away the vestiges of the battle, leaving Brian panting as he thrust his spear into the icy soil and rested upon it.

His frame quivered with a blend of relief, weariness, and the remnants of anger, all mingling in the snow. It painted the ground with a tapestry of blood, tuffs of fur, and leather strips.

Brian's face shifted through phases, like a tide washing over the shore of his emotions.

First came anger, a tempestuous flame that gnawed at his soul, ignited by the haunting mystery of his mother's absence. 

Neither his mother nor his father remained by his side now, and despite having friends and people caring for him, the child of loneliness seeped into his veins.

Confusion danced upon the canvas of his thoughts, an enigmatic waltz that left him yearning for answers. Would he ever meet her? Would her face be etched in the constellations of his destiny?

Finally, a weariness settled in, etching lines of exhaustion into his eyes.

Asdras drew near, gently patting Brian's shoulder twice.

"Thanks!"

"In the end, it seems we're both cursed," Asdras said as he looked around the dead wolves.

Brian retrieved his spear from the ground, clutching it firmly with both hands. He held it parallel to his nose, peering at his reflection in the glinting metal.

A sigh escaped his lips as he turned his head to meet Asdras' gaze. 

"Promise me," his voice barely above a whisper, a smile flickering shyly. "That we'll stand tall, unbroken by any curse fate throws at us."

Brian thrust his spear into the air, and Asdras positioned his sword atop the spear, sealing their promise with a shared grin.

Brian's voice broke the momentary silence, filled with eagerness, as he proposed, "How about a fight?"

Asdras, with a hint of amusement in his eyes, replied, "You certainly have energy to spare."

They both leaped back, boots skidding on the frost-kissed earth, creating a gap of anticipation between them. Their gazes locked,  and without a word, they simultaneously dashed towards each other, their breaths misting in the cold as they collided in a clash of steel.

The fight began with Brian's spear slicing through the air, his movements marked by speed and vigor. Asdras, seasoned and skilled, parried Brian's initial thrust with ease, his swordplay precise and efficient.

And as the battle raged on, Asdras deftly parried an incoming spear with his sword. With swift movements, he delivered a quick kick to the right leg of Brian. 

He attempted to dodge the attack by jumping back, but was caught off guard by another surge. A punch sent him crashing to the ground.

"You lost again, Brian," Asdras said with a wide grin, offering his hand. "But I must say, that spear attack of yours was pretty impressive."

"Aw, c'mon, Asdras" Brian grumbled as he got to his feet. "Could ya go a bit easier on me? Just look at me! Covered in dirt and my left eye's all puffed up."

"You asked me to train with you, so I did," Asdras shrugged.

"Dammit!" Brian yelled as he adjusted his clothes. "C'mon, let's sleep. I'm tad tired right now."

Together, they turned their backs to the forest, retracing their steps towards the village, their figures shrouded in the night's embrace.

Meanwhile, from the depths of the shadowy woods, Raffin emerged, his murmured words breaking his silence.

"You're right, priest," he said as he approached the lifeless beasts. "They'll have a good chance at surviving the Eruption..."