The mountain was so high that Ashcar had been climbing it for two days and hadn't yet reached its peak.

Clothes torn into rags, her left hand's fingernails corroded through the journey. Blood had frozen over the skin, giving away a false pinkish tonality. She breathed with difficulty, her lungs burned, and her body insisted on stopping. But she was an Arur – one of the soldiers of the Kabalah, the elite army of the Fifth Empire – and she wouldn't give up.

She was on a natural rocky platform, only slightly outstanding in the mountains. The glasses of thick lenses and big frames over her mustard-colored eyes, a mechanical appearance. Mishkafáin, used for telescopic sight and protection.

She detected a cave a few meters yonder, a refuge for the storm that approached. However, on her way there, a circular structure of twigs, branches, vines and rocks – a birds nest. Ashcar feared that the dweller would return soon, but that was the only visible passage. Her other option was to descend, but that would mean yielding to the enemies from whom she was running away.

Black spots in the fog below, hunters after the bundle on her back. By instinct, she led her hands to it, comforting the infant strapped there. He would move, but not cry. He'd gotten used to the hardships he'd been enduring along with his mother, ever since his birth. A being with a unique appearance: grayish hair, mustard eyes, white skin – and although tiny, fingernails that were long and sharp as razors.

– Diren, hang on – she murmured, to convince more herself than her offspring. She missed her husband. Dhalgren would be able to guide her easily.

The family was composed only by arur, and they had the physical characteristics of wolves, inherited from the titan that originated their family – Järvenden, the White. In a distant time, far before the conception of the Fifth Empire, humans served as slaves to these creatures and suffered abuse. Hence the arur were born, the Accursed, used as personal guard by their “parents”. When Shoah and his Followers defied the Titans, in the “First Holocaust”, the arur saw in that a chance for freedom, thus joining the rebels.

The cold winds turned the woman's lips purple; her fingertips covered by a thin layer of ice. Even in all such pain, Ashcar endured. She had in mind a city, Old Pulley, the only place where she would find help.

– Old Pulley... Climb the mountains, pass through the caves, cross the river. She will be there, waiting for any soldier of the Kabalah in need of help – she recited. If she lost the map, the path would be in her mind. After all, any straying in the mountains would lead her to certain death.

She got back to the journey. She only had to overcome it, just that – defeat the cold white monster that stood between the city and her. The baby mumbled. Ashcar got reinvigorated by the happiness for her son – a twinge of pride in her chest.

– Everything is going to be all right, zeev – she murmured, dubbing her son “wolf” in her language. Her teeth clattered. It was a matter of time until she froze completely. She switched a tiny handle in her glasses' frame, making a green lens take the place of the original one. Her eyesight got clearer, and she noticed that something was flying very close, circling the platform.

The monster swooped down at full speed, hit her in the shoulder and pulled her mantle with its claws. Ashcar regained balance, pulled the carabine that she brought crosswise on her back and triggered it. She handled her glasses again and the lenses got very dark; but she could see the enemy's specter lurking her in circles. She couldn't spot its general appearance, but she noticed leathery wings and a long snout.

– You can't fly forever! – she muttered through grinding her teeth. She aimed. The animal spun around itself, trying to catch a favorable current of air. Suddenly it straightened up and came forward directly to snap her. Only when the target was too close did the shooter think: the noise from the shot would give away her position or even start an avalanche. But there was no more time to draw the short swords.

She shot three times. The first hit the eye; the second, the neck, and the third, snow. The adversary rolled by her side. It wasn't so big, maybe the meat wouldn't be any tasty, but Ashcar was in no condition to be picky. She snatched a hunk of meat and gave another to her son. It didn't taste bad.

– Wolves are predators, not prey – she recited.

The mountains roared. Snow came down, a vast and wild white carpet. With swift steps, the woman ran towards the cave. She jumped into the nest, three eggs; she threw them into her coat and moved on. She thought there wouldn't be enough time, she passed violently by a snow wall that had formed in the entry and was nearly buried. In the end, she vanquished Nature and fell on her knees on dry land.

One of the eggs fell on the floor, oozing a viscous liquid. Ashcar crawled on all fours and slurped it avidly. She put the baby beside her and he mimicked her gestures. She almost cried out of despair, but she didn't want to reveal any weakness. Only then, under the dark ceiling, she stopped to think if there would be an exit. She could have fallen in a natural grave and died hopeless.

She nested her son in her arms and sat. The dreaming came fast.

A strange noise woke her up some time later. She noticed that the snow from the entrance slided, and, feeling trapped, she feared. She hid her son behind a rock, grabbed the carabine and awaited, with no escape but fighting.

A hard punch bursted the snow, opening up the entrance. Ashcar shot, the bullet ricocheted on the enemy, she curled up. She didn't know who was entering, but refrained from shooting with the carabine. The huge specter forced its way through, leaning into the cave and using its hands to finish its job.

– Stand back – he ordered, with a voice that sounded like the vibration of metal on stone. Ashcar obeyed, protecting her offspring with her own body. Another blow in the snow, the access deobstructed.

The arur's heart nearly came to her mouth. The veins of fire were visible in the stout build of the reddish hulk that passed through. Despite the fear, feeling some warmth after so long made her well. But would that creature have come after her son, as the stories had told?

In reply, he threw himself to her feet.

– Ashcar Grey, I am Erion. I have on the behalf of the gurag to save your and your son's life, even if that costs me my own life and my people – Ashcar couldn't apprehend, at first, everything the creature had told. Some of the words had come out too vibrant, some others too gutural, worsened even more by the acoustics. However, she could feel what that creature said.

– Thank you – she acknowledged, almost in a whisper, bringing her son to her arms. - This is my offspring. We have been betrayed by those we considered as friends. Now I am heading towards Old Pulley, the only city of my people, the bnei shoah, in this region.

Erion was about to answer, but another strange sound from outdoors got his attention. Before he could escape, a shot hit his forehead, without hurting him.

– Hunters – he growled.

– Our enemies, they want to eliminate my son and me.

– Maybe not – Erion put his ear agains the wall and started to tap on it. He stopped at the third time.

– There is a tunnel behind this spot – he reached for Ashcar and pulled her tightly against himself. She tried to escape the grip, but it was too strong. Suddenly, the senoi started to enter the wall as if being part of it. The arur feared, and felt the approach into the wall and almost screamed, but to her surprise, se was assimilated by the rocks as well and could see them from the inside. Before she could utter anything, she was already across in a dark, cold tunnel.

– The Spiral lies within all things. Understanding it, we can coltrol our bodies and spirits – Erion explained.

– I could have fought them – seh said.

– We don't take life away from another being, ever – Erion rumbled.

– Not even for your own sake? – incredulous, she followed him along the tunnel. She could hear the murmur of a river and feel a warm breeze from yonder. She couldn't tell if it was from an exit or from her ally.

– The senoi don't know murder – Erion halted. He tottered and leaned against the wall with one of his hands, bending over. Ashcar realized the creature was unwell.

– It is fight, not murder. We are fighting for our lives – she retorted, approaching her protector and helping him sit.

– Taking a life away is always murder; the motive doesn't justify the act. The senoi believe that all things in the world share the same spirit. My people is dying, Ashcar, and regardless I came here to save you and your son.

– But why?

– Why do you protect him? - the troll asked, playfully bobbing to the child while caressing the arur's face. Ashcar then remembered her husband. It was a fraternal, sincere love, the same kind as the one she'd seen so many times in people who self-sacrificed for their beliefs.

– You are up to risking your life for this, aren't you? – she asked, withdrawing her carabine and supporting Erion for both to continue through the corridor.

– Not only my life, but also all the knowledge I carry. All the culture that has remained within me.

– Why? – she insisted, still skeptical.

– Why do you protect him? – he repeated. The murmur from the river got more intense as did the warm air.

– Because I love him more than anything else in life – she ventured.

– Extend this to everything around you, to all living beings, objects, moments. Extend this love to everything you see, feel, touch, smell. This is what a senoi lives by and dies for. Nyamkonsen, the words of a god from heavens. Love your fellow one.

The corridor ended up on the other side of the mountain, where the avalanche hadn't occurred. Erion led Ashcar downhill; they passed by some dead trees and granted themselves, once more, some rest.

– Old Pulley – he pointed across the river, the skyline of the city outstanding in contrast.

The troll took care of the baby while the arur distanced herself to fill up the canteens. She took off her backpack and started to account what remained: two ammunition boxes, a signal flare, food for one or two more days and the eggs. She finished filling up the canteens, leaned against the closest tree and turned her attention to the signal flare. She hadn't even thought of ever using it. After all, the imperial airships circumvented the mountains on their routes. It wasn't a practical place, or usual. Distracted by the tool, she only noticed the shadow when it was too late.

First, the airship's propellers dispelled the clouds. Then the hull opened up in a double flood gate. Snow stormed everywhere, blinding her momentarily. She could devise, however, the symbol of hunters, the crossed bones on the balloon that lifted the machine.

– Erion! – she shouted.

The troll stood up and ran, but from the ship’s gate a thick net fished him with the infant. Pulled up, he tried to rip the fishnet, to no avail. He thought of hurling Diren away, but that would be dangerous.

– Finally! – one of the hunters rejoyced. The airship turned back, ptobably without noticing who it had hooked instead of Ashcar.

She ran after the capturers. She slid on the snow and rolled downhill. In her despair, she forgot to take the weapons and brought only the signal flare. To make the situation worse, the proximity of the airship had started another avalanche. The snow came down and hindered the chase even more, nearly burying her. Eager, she regained balance, took the chance of the ship’s loss of altitude and, in an impulse, she shot the air balloon.

– Shoah, protect your son - she prayed.

The snow drifted. She tried to rid herself from it, but she was buried and felt the strain crushing her bones. Ashcar saw the airship gain distance with the balloon in flames, and descend down the hillside. She smiled. She’d rather see her son dead than enslaved. She controlled her breathing and forced her body as to not die. She gasped with the snow, but finally could free herself fom it.

– Son... Erion... – she murmured. She snapped her neck, went back to the riverbed and dug in search of her weapons. Not finding them, she took the direction of the airship. In her hands, nothing. In her eyes, sheer fury.