Days passed since the incident.

Klaus stood knee deep in the snow.

The wind had grown sharp again, 

carving through the trees like silent blades. 

Siva paced near the edge of the clearing, 

her white fur barely visible against the frost. 

Klaus's breath was ragged. 

His hands trembled, not from the cold,

but from something deeper. 

Something unstable.

He raised his hand. Focused. The air shimmered.

"I can't control it..."

A spike of ice began to form. 

Its edges rippled unnaturally, 

pulsing with chaotic mana. 

Klaus clenched his jaw, 

forcing it forward 

but the spear cracked halfway through, 

then shattered into brittle shards.

Another failure.

The snow caught the broken pieces 

and swallowed them whole. 

Klaus dropped to his knees, 

fists clenched against the cold earth. 

His breaths came in short bursts, 

visible and trembling.

"I was able to do it normally but... Why won't it listen..."

He tried again. A second spear formed. 

This one was jagged, alive, 

like it had a will of its own. 

But before he could release it, the tip exploded outward throwing him back onto the ground.

Siva rushed over, sniffing his face with concern.

"I'm fine," he muttered, brushing her away. "Just... tired."

But that was a lie. The cold inside him was spreading.

And someone was watching.

From behind a jagged tree trunk, 

a hunched figure peered through the flurry. 

His hood was soaked with snow, but his eyes glinted with suspicion.

The magic he had just seen it wasn't natural.

"It's true," the man whispered, breath fogging. "The cursed boy's using it."

His grip tightened on the wooden talisman around his neck.

"Magic. A forbidden art... I have to tell the shamans."

The man turned, vanishing into the woods, footsteps muffled by the rising snow.

⸻

Later that evening, Klaus returned home.

His cloak was stiff with frost. 

His fingertips blue around the nails. 

As he stepped into the warmth of the hut, 

his mother looked up from the hearth, 

eyes narrowing.

"You've been out too long again."

Klaus didn't answer.

She walked over, 

pulled the half-frozen cloak from his shoulders, 

and rubbed his arms to get the blood moving again.

"You'll catch your death one of these days," she muttered. "You can't keep going out doing whatever your doing out there..."

she sighed patting his head "Klaus I know your hiding something from me and I don't know what but... I trust you'll open up to me one day. Once you're ready."

He sat down by the fire without speaking.

Dinner passed quietly. 

A stew of root vegetables and cured rabbit, simmered low. Klaus barely ate. 

His thoughts swirled with fractured ice, 

broken spears, and the look in Siva's eyes, 

watchful, maybe worried.

His mother finally spoke.

"The firewood's low."

He looked up.

"There's a bit left in the bin," she said, "but we'll need more by morning. The snow's falling heavier than usual."

Klaus nodded slowly.

"I'll get some from the community storehouse."

She gave him a sharp look. "Don't take too long."

Klaus stood and reached for his cloak again. As he did, Siva padded silently over, tail brushing the floor.

She looked up at him, clearly expecting to follow.

But Klaus knelt beside her, rubbing behind her ears. "Not this time."

She tilted her head.

"Stay here," he whispered. "Watch over Mom. I'll be quick."

Siva let out a low whine.

"I'll whistle if I need you. But someone has to stay with her."

The fox hesitated, then curled near the hearth, 

still staring at him.

He gave her one last glance before stepping back out into the storm.

It was the kind before a storm.

⸻

Ten minutes earlier.

The shaman's hall glowed with dim candlelight. 

A dozen figures sat in a circle, 

their faces shadowed by hooded robes. 

The messenger knelt in the center, 

soaked in snow, trembling.

"I saw it with my own eyes," he said. "He shaped ice. Like spears. Threw it with his hands."

One of the elders leaned forward.

"You are sure?"

The man nodded. "His mother must be hiding it. The boy... he's a danger. He walks with one of them. A Kono Beast."

Another voice rasped from the shadows.

"Deseus's flame returns to the world."

"No," said another. "Just a spark. A cursed one. If we act quickly, it can be extinguished."

The head shaman rose. His voice like creaking wood.

"We gather the faithful. Tonight. Before the storm seals the roads. The boy must be cleansed."

⸻

The wind moaned between the houses. 

Klaus walked slowly past shuttered doors 

and stacked firewood, 

his footsteps silent beneath the snow.

He was silent the entire walk to the storehouse. 

But something gnawed at him. 

A cold not born from winter.

His eyes drifted upward.

The stars were faint behind the clouds. 

But just enough light remained for him 

to make out the edge of the hill,

where a dozen torches flickered in a slow march.

Figures in cloaks.

Voices murmuring.

Steel glinting under lantern light.

Klaus stopped walking. His breath hitched.

Siva at home felt what was coming.

She pressed against the leg of Klaus mother, 

ears low, teeth bared at the window.

"Siva? Whats wrong?" she said with a worried tone

They were coming.