Call Upon the Northern Wind [One-shot]

After weeks of enduring unjust treatment from the prince, Feodor and Irina made the decision to flee their hometown in search of a better life in a distant land to the east. During their journey, Feodor was taken aback when he recognized a familiar face leading a group of druzhinas pursuing them. With a mixture of shock and determination, he urged his horse forward, his brow furrowed and tears streaming down his face as memories of happier times resurfaced.



As they ventured further from their homeland, traversing the vast steppe, no signs of human presence greeted them. The landscape stretched with nothing but tall grasses, providing sustenance for their horses. Where would this path lead them?



The sky grew dark, the sun concealed by heavy clouds, and the distant rumble of thunder filled the air. There was little time for contemplation. Feodor urged his horse onward, hastening their pace before the impending rain soaked them to the bone.



Within Feodor's mind, a tingling voice began to emerge—a once joyful melody now transforming into something sinister. His face contorted in grimace, and his body trembled as memories from his childhood resurfaced, memories of his early years spent within the snowy woods. The voice from the past suddenly haunted him, resounding in his mind each night.



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