Thick snow slows Taren and me as we trudge through the woods, stalking a stag.

  Taren watches me, perhaps waiting for me to talk about the sheepdog. I look ahead, eyes on stag tracks, dotted with blood. The arrow had been mine.

  [Detect Decay] roils within me. With the dead of winter, there is little decay with any vibrance, so the stag’s blood is easy to sense. It slows and we gain on it.

  My mana ring glows, blue lightning filling me with every step, replacing any loss from [Detect Decay].

  “There,” Taren says, pointing. I cannot see as far as he can. “On the ridge by the dead elm.”

  I nock my bow and gaze towards the pulses, but all I see is a mess of swirling snow and blurry foliage.

  Taren prepares an arrow of his own. “To slow it,” he says when I glance at him.

  I frown.

  Taren sighs. “I don’t want to spend all week chasing the beast,” he says. “You can finish it, that still counts for something.”

  I shrug and he looses the arrow. The stag cries out in the distance and the pulse of decay changes.

  [Detect Decay] has reached Level 4.

  My senses refine. A black glow dots the snow in the distance.

  With stamina burn, I slide over the snow and leap over a fallen log. There, the stag lumbers along, a new arrow in its hind leg.

  I draw back an arrow. The distance is far. I have no hunter [Skills] to aid me. I focus on the black glow and pulsing in my head and release. The beast falls over, the third arrow lodged in its chest.

  Taren reaches me and we hike over together.

  Winter Stag - Level 3

  It still lives. Taren finishes it quickly and we dress the meat. A long hike stands between us and the village. I enjoy the silence as we haul our bags of cleaned meat through the woods.

  We reach Ashgrove the next morning. Raimi and Denet greet us near the graveyard on the outskirts.

  “What you get, what you get?” Denet says as he runs around us, spraying snow on our legs.

  “Take a breath,” Taren says. “Sevorn got us a stag.”

  Raimi and Denet gaze at me with wide eyes.

  “You mean he helped,” Denet says.

  Taren shakes his head. “He caught it with an arrow and we tracked it down.”

  “Taren shot it too,” I say and he frowns. I’m not playing this game of lies with the kids.

  “That’s what I thought,” Denet says. “You gotta be a hunter to catch game. That’s how it works.”

  Raimi looks ready to object, but I shake my head and walk past. “Marlene needs the meat for tonight.”

  “Yeah!” Denet jumps and snatches at my pack, and I almost fall into the snow. “It’s been forever since we had meat.”

  “Two weeks,” I say.

  “That’s like forever, that’s—”

  “Enough, Denet,” Taren says and the boy clamps his mouth shut.

  As we near the great oak in village square, Father Edrine appears at the door of his chapel. Only a dozen villagers stand outside in the cold, but each looks his way. The cleric raises both hands and looks up at the sky.

  Taren freezes in place, tense. He glances at me.

  “Good people of Ashgrove,” Edrine says, his head still facing the cloudy sky. “I’ve had a premonition.”

  Some villagers approach the cleric. Even Raimi is drawn in.

  “We are in need of new strength for this winter season. It is time for the Rite of Renewal.”

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  Taren groans softly. The villagers murmur to one another in hushed voices. I glance around, uncertain.

  Raimi must sense my confusion because she sidles up beside me and whispers, “It’s a three day fast.” She smiles toward the cleric. “Then we have a bonfire to fill us with cleansing light.”

  Taren’s expression when he meets my eye concerns me.

  ~~~

  The next morning I sit alone in my hayloft. Nox clicks as he skitters across my arm, confused. He paces up and down my shoulder and pushes the idea of food, but I shake my head. It’s hard to explain to my friend that I’m starving myself on purpose.

  “He’s doing this because of you,” Taren tells me as we walk through the woods. The stag meat we returned with lies packed into the snow, since no one will eat it until tomorrow night.

  “Raimi says it's a normal rite for winter,” I respond.

  “We haven’t had a Rite of Renewal for years. And always in a year of great surplus.” Taren shakes his head. “No, he wants to target you.”

  “You’re seeing shadows.” I won’t tell him I’m pleased to have someone watching out for me. “He could call me up for candles at Vigil and I’d collapse again. I wouldn’t be able to explain why.”

  “Nah, he can’t call on you again.” Taren swings a dead branch at a thorny bush. “It’s an honor to be chosen for that, and calling on you a second time in such a short span? You could die on the first candle and the village would still think you were a martyred saint.”

  We circle close to the Haven, but I don’t hear Denet or Raimi. Both are kept busy to distract them from their empty bellies. I could use the same.

  I [Leech Grip] the same bush and it crumbles, catching Taren by surprise. Though he knows of my [Skills], he doesn’t see it often. I step further along and shove the extra vitality into a tree branch and it blooms.

  “If only people could see what good you can do with your [Skills].”

  “It’s hard to ignore what it takes to power it.”

  Taren nods at that.

  “What can I do about the Rite? Will we have to touch the flames?”

  “No. But Edrine puts oil on the flames, and it feels like Vigil candle smoke, only more potent.” Taren rubs a finger over the leaves of the vitalized branch. The frost will kill it quickly. “Can you handle that? Edrine clearly wants you to falter in public.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  ~~~

  On the morning of the Renewal Bonfire, Nox is agitated. He clicks frantically, but I ignore him. Hunger’s the least of my concerns.

  As I enter Marlene’s home to clean any decay that built up overnight, I hear a squeak. Marlene should be out shaping a new plow with Dargan, not at home.

  The sound originates from under the table.

  I peer under and find Denet on his knees, crumbs on his face.

  “I–I’m playing hide and seek with Raimi.”

  “Raimi’s helping Edrine clean the chapel.”

  Denet tucks his face between his knees. “Don’t tell mama.” His voice is muffled.

  I don’t respond right away, waiting until Denet looks up at me. “Come help me collect firewood. Raimi said we each need to bring a load for the bonfire.”

  He looks relieved and rubs ?his face before following.

  I regret bringing the boy after the first ten minutes. He complains about hunger three times, despite his snack, and he comments on the cold a dozen times more. By the time he has two dry branches, I want to send him away.

  A hatchet hangs on my belt, borrowed from Taren for chopping up whatever I find. He refuses to bring wood of his own, but I have no such luxury.

  The nameless raven appears in the corner of my vision, perched on a branch. I spin towards it, flaring [Detect Decay]. Nothing strange. Simple pulses of dormant decay spread throughout the surrounding woods. One older tree hosts black lines of rot, but nothing unnatural.

  The raven watches me, silent. I want to throw something at it.

  Then I sense it—not with my [Skill]---but in the way my skin prickles. Then Denet cries out.

  I twist the other way and see a floating specter, robed in frayed rags.

  Whispering Shade - Level 4

  The snow at its feet melts and refreezes as it glides towards Denet and me, leaving a trail of ice. There’s no rush to this creature.

  I drop the wood I carry and lift my hatchet. The shade doesn’t react other than to continue on its path.

  Denet backs away, towards the village, gripping his two sticks like lifelines.

  With a stamina burst, I dash forward, swinging the hatchet down as I reach the shade, but it passes through the creature and I stumble forward.

  The shade reacts when I falter—its hands appear from the folds of its robe, fingers like icy daggers. Each hand rakes me, catching me three times before I can scramble back. There’s no blood, but fire and ice rip through my senses. I feel my vitality wither under the ghostly attack.

  “Run!” I shout through the pain. Denet trembles, then spins about and sprints through the snow.

  The shade floats in my direction again, its eyes fixed on me, hollow with red at the center.

  I turn to guide it away from the village, but the shade appears before me, its sharp fingers passing through me, weakening me. I stumble in the snow, swinging with the hatchet to no effect. Then I try [Leech Grip], but I’m rebuffed.

  [Chilling Presence] fills me and the shade hesitates. I fall back into the snow, only three feet away from the monster.

  The Whispering Shade does not show fear, though my [Chilling Presence] holds it back, like a shield. I back away, trembling from weakness and terror.

  I flare [Chilling Presence], trying to banish the shade, but it only slides back, as if I push against it rather than instilling fear.

  With no other option, I leave my [Skill] active, draining mana, then stamina burn until the creature floats far in the distance. It does not follow.

  [Chilling Presence] has reached Level 2.

  I come to the Rite of Renewal without a single branch to offer, ignoring the pleased look on Edrine’s face.