3 Frosts Edge

By the time Fenrir had made his way home, the sun already hung proudly in the sky and his grandmother was visiting the village at the foot of the mountain, she new of his morning walks so she had no reason to worry, though he was usually back by the time she got up. Fenrir had decided not to tell her about his run in with a god, nor about the voice that lived inside his head, if only too avoid a trip to the doctors.

Fenrir decided too make his way down towards the village, he doubted he could treat the wolf-cub on his own, so he made his way inside the cottage, gently laid the wolf-pup on his bed and found a pen and piece of paper, then he wrote out a small note for his grandmother in case they missed each other on the journey.

He retrieved several thick blankets and a much thicker coat than the one he was already wearing, although it made him feel confined and uncomfortably warm, it was still better than the villagers finding out why he was able to wear so many less layers than anyone else. Wrapping up the wolf-pup loosely in the warm blankets, he made his way out of the cottage and into the frosty wilderness that encompassed it, snacking on his missed breakfast as he strode.

"Hey Norn, what should we do with it?", speaking for the first time in hours, "as much as I don't want to leave it on its own, my grandma has never been a fan of keeping pets…"

"[I imagine it won't be so hard too convince your grandmother, but first I suggest you take her to someone that can help her, the pup is stable for now, but we do not know when that may change.]", Norn was right, he should not worry about the far off future when the close up future may not even come to pass.

He made his way down the winding mountainside road, with no risk of slipping and the lack of predictable cold he actually found the journey enjoyable, the inconsistent peaks jutted out like jagged teeth, scratched and well worn by the passage of time and use, they pierced the thickening clouds and climbed far above.

These mountains had claimed many lives over the years, mainly of outsiders, unknowing of the dangers, but occasionally one of their own was taken into is maw, and although people mourned for the departed, they usually took it as the spirit of water's will and moved on.

Fenrir and his grandmother lived much higher up the mountain than others, he supposed because his grandmother enjoyed the peace and quiet, though there came much more danger with the higher altitudes and colder temperatures. The nearest village, frosts edge, was situated partially over a cliffs edge, hence it's name, the village only held around 20 people, because of this they where tightly nit and there often wasn't much you could hide.

Fenrir rounded a corner, making sure too remember to put his shoes back on, for the splendid view to open up too him, snow started to gently weave its way through the chilling winds, only to be caught in the violent tug of the mountains tempest, the village was sheltered and warm, for a place on the mountains, with it being hidden behind a towering rock face, it would be a tremendous view even without the little village buzzing with hive like activity, most houses where, similarly to his own, mainly composed of logs with crude glass windows, wooden shutters, and a stone chimney.

"Hey..! If it isn't the witches grandson!" the local shop keeper called out to him with a friendly voice, 'witch' was the nickname of his grandmother, thanks too her choice of living location that matched the locals legends too a T, it was turned into a running joke thanks to her overly kind nature which completely opposed that of the true witch.

"Hey kiddo, if you're looking for your grandmother, you just missed her, you must have passed each other by." said a man who was large, even by loch standards.

"Thanks Carty…have you seen Edward anywhere?, I need to ask him about a few things.", The giant shopkeeper was undoubtedly curious, nobody wanted to see the doctor, his presence was often associated with either death or a hefty sum, if anyone got injured enough to pay the heavy price of a check-up they where usually at deaths door, he had seen the witch only ten minutes prior so it obviously wasn't that.

"Yeah he's in his cottage, like always…", then went on to mumble something that sounded vaguely similar to 'hazy cod', Fenrir made his way further into the village, after saying his goodbyes to the shopkeeper, and greeted anyone that passed him by.

He now stood before a cottage much like any other of the village, its only difference would have to be that this particular one was slightly larger than the others and had a small, uncared for, garden of frosty plants sitting outside of its front. The doctor, despite the shopkeepers views, was an esteemed guest to the villagers, without him, despite his exorbitant prices, the village would have fallen into ruin long ago, by plague or illness, and in spite of being called a doctor by the locals, he was in fact a water mage.

Mages, or people blessed by one of the elemental spirits, where beings given partial control over a spirits authority in proportioned too the amount of blessing they received, and their bodies would be temporarily strengthened depending on how much of their element is present, this had always been rumoured to have an effect on the mages lifespan, though it was not tested because of it taking too much time and there being too many variables. Another advantage to being a mage is that they are able to resist the authority of the same element as long as they held the greater blessing, natural sources would be resisted without exception.

For example a water mage, like Edward, will have been blessed by the spirit of water at some time in their lives, they will hold an authority over water, equal to that of the blessing they received, and are strengthened by water, even able to breath in it. With them being empowered by water no matter its form, the ruthless mountains of the loch kingdom, with their pilling snow and humid environment, where one of the best places for them.

The water mage himself was tall, evidently originating from loch like almost all water mages, his face was covered in a field of uncared for stubble, a thin, sharp nose and angular face, he could have been considered handsome if not for his flushed cheeks, bloodshot blue eyes and unbalanced way of stumbling over himself that came with heavy drinking. He stood high above Fenrir, seemingly unable to recognise him at first, then invited him inside in a slurred, tung tied fashion.

"Its..been a while since you've..been here, do you have anything fo-hic-r this old m…an.!", his speech was so incomprehensible that it was almost impossible for him to make it out, and his final inquiry sounded much more like a statement than a question.

Fenrir slowly and careful unraveled the blanket that held the still sleeping wolf-pup, Edward look of confusion, if he had one, was hidden by the heavy mask of liquor that surrounded him, his face shifted from a look of drunken stupor to that of remembrance, and then one of fear.

"I'll do…this one on the house…", he seemed to have broken out of the clutching chains called alcohol that had confined him for many years, his eyes where dark yet clear, just by looking into them Fenrir could only imagine looking deep into an endless ocean, what could he have been through to have such an effect on him?

He handed Fenrir some small bronze coins, with a diameter similar to that of a ring, and some larger silver ones, before shoeing him out of the house, his only command to bring him back the strongest whiskey the shopkeeper had to offer.

Utterly confused, Fenrir made his way to the small store, similar in all aspects to any home in the village, apart from it having some drinks and fruit on open display, he made his way up to the door and knocked quickly and harder than perhaps he should.

"Ahh, kiddo, has the drunkard got you to fetch his drink? Let me guess, he said you could keep the change if you dropped it off, well let me tell you, he may be drunk but he can sure count money…" with a face that suggested he had been tricked himself.

"He asked for the strongest whiskey you had…" Fenrir replied helplessly, he could hardly say no to the man who he owed a favour much bigger than some some spare change.

"Strongest eh, he must be in a really bad mood, what did you do?" Said the Carty, counting the money, "blimey, what did you do?! He must have had a real shock to be off by a whole silver..", Fenrir silently watched the man throw abuse at the only person greedier than him in the entire mountain range for his greed.

"Here's your change…", he could hear the regret in his voice, whether from his lack of success in stealing the middle aged man's change or by not being able to learn how he did it, Fenrir did not know, but he took it without a word and headed back to the larger cottage, prepared to lose his newfound wealth as soon as he walked through the door.

"[he can't be that stingy.]" said Norn, his voice full of disbelief, Fenrir could only shake his head at his words, he did not know how deep the man's greed grew, but he had seen him jump into glacial waters to retrieve a single bronze coin, worth only a single slice of bread.

The door opened with a snap as soon as Fenrir's knuckle made contact with it, the man snatched the bottle out of his hand and took several, large gulps.

"Change..?", with a regretful sigh, Fenrir handed over the silver coin, only to receive a sweeping look up and down his body, undoubtedly checking his cloths for cracks or crevices that a coin may be stashed away. Finally satisfied, he let Fenrir in too, for him to witness the wolf pup opening her eyes wrapped in several layers of bandages, all neat and cut to perfection.

"Take the pup and go…I have a long date due with this wonderful bottle…", Fenrir left him gazing wilfully into the now half empty bottle, he picked up the strangely calm pup, wrapped it into its blankets, and let the man too his drink, headed for the path towards his home.