Jake woke to the sound of crackling wood.
His eyes snapped open, heart pounding. He sat up too fast and immediately winced — his ribs ached, and his shoulder throbbed from the fall. For a few seconds, he had no idea where he was.
The room was unfamiliar. Wooden walls. A stone fireplace. Heavy furs layered over him, and the scent of herbs and pine hung in the air. He reached instinctively for the strange object — but it wasn't in his pocket.
"Damn it," he muttered, pushing the blanket aside. His thoughts crashed together.
How long had he been out?
His mom.
Anna.
Had it been hours? Days?
He swung his legs off the bed, steadying himself against a wooden post. Panic rose like bile in his throat. He had to get back. There had to be a way—
The door creaked open.
A man stepped inside carrying a tray: heavy boots, a thick gray beard, and shoulders like a blacksmith. His clothes were made of wool and leather, dusted with snow.
"Well, you're awake. Was startin' to wonder if you'd sleep through dinner and breakfast," the man said, setting the tray down with a thud. He gave Jake a quick once-over, then nodded. "Color's back in your face. That's good."
Jake blinked. "Where… where am I?"
"Safe. Name's James. You're in my home, boy. Found you near frozen and half-broken at the base of Hallow Peak." He picked up a stool and sat near the fire. "Care to tell me what the hell you were doin' up there?"
Jake hesitated. "I… got lost."
James raised a brow but didn't press. "Reckless place to go wanderin'. You're lucky I was hauling a late cart down the ridge. Most folk wouldn't've seen you through the snow."
Jake looked at the tray. A bowl of steaming stew, thick slices of bread, and a mug that smelled faintly of something sweet and spiced.
His stomach growled.
"Eat," James said gruffly. "You've been out near two days."
Jake's heart dropped. "Two days?"
"Aye."
He stared at the fire, guilt creeping in like a shadow. Two days gone. Two days without checking in. Without helping. His sister would be scared. His mom… God.
The door creaked again.
This time, it wasn't James.
A girl peeked in — maybe sixteen, with sharp green eyes and long, dark hair tied in a loose braid. She didn't say anything, just studied him like a strange animal behind glass.
"That's Emma," James said with a chuckle. "My daughter. She's been keepin' watch while I worked the forge."
Emma crossed her arms. "You talk in your sleep."
Jake blinked. "...What did I say?"
"Something about a dragon. And 'Kate.'" She smirked, then vanished back into the hallway.
Jake flushed. "She's… perceptive."
"Like her mother was," James said softly. "Eat, boy. You'll need strength."
Jake took a bite — the stew was rich and smoky, the bread still warm. It grounded him, pulled him out of the whirlwind in his chest.
"I owe you," he said between bites. "I don't have much, but I'll find a way to pay you back."
James waved him off. "You live, that's payment enough. But if you're set on earnin' your keep, there's always work in the village. Chores, deliveries, quarry help. Folk here don't let good hands go to waste."
Jake nodded. "Thank you. Really."
"Don't thank me yet," James said, rising. "Snow's clearin'. Emma'll show you 'round when you're done."
Outside, the world looked like something from a painting.
The village nestled between craggy cliffs and forested ridges, surrounded by mist and snow-dusted pines. Wooden homes with thatched roofs and stone chimneys lined the winding paths. Smoke curled lazily from hearths. Laughter and chatter drifted from the market square where stalls bustled with activity.
Emma waited by the door, arms folded, impatience radiating from her like heat.
"Come on," she said. "Before you freeze again."
They walked slowly through the town, Jake soaking in every detail.
People wore thick cloaks, tunics, leathers, and armor bits — like medieval cosplay made real. Nearly everyone had a weapon: swords, axes, daggers, even ornate staves. Some wore them like tools, others like badges.
"Why does everyone have a weapon?" Jake asked.
Emma glanced at him. "Because it's not safe not to. Especially in the mountains. Bandits. Beasts. And worse."
Jake rubbed his arms. "Right. Dragons…"
She shot him a look. "You weren't just dreaming, were you?"
He shook his head. "No. I saw one. Big. Black scales. It… it watched me."
"That would've been Kareth. Mountain Wyrm. Old as the cliffs themselves. Doesn't usually leave its hoard unless it's disturbed."
Jake paled. "I might've… stepped on some coins."
Emma gave a short laugh. "Idiot."
They passed a fountain where children tossed coins into the water. A market stall shimmered with crystals that floated in the air. Another man conjured fire in his palm to light a pipe.
Jake stopped. "Is that… magic?"
Emma arched a brow. "What else would it be?"
He just stared.
She gave him a sly grin. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Jake hesitated. "It's… complicated."
Emma's expression softened. "Well. You'll have time to explain. Eventually."
They walked a while longer. And for the first time since waking up in that frozen ruin, Jake didn't feel entirely lost. Just… disoriented. But maybe that was okay.
Because something told him this was only the beginning.