Trial of the Frost

As they ascended the mountain, the snow thickened, and the wind howled with an unforgiving chill. High above the Cascade Cradle, the village nestled in the mountain's embrace was alive with murmurs, its people gathering in the main yard. Lanterns flickered in the frigid night, their warm glow casting long shadows as an elderly figure stood at the forefront, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the winding path below.

A hush settled over the crowd as the first silhouettes emerged from the blizzard.

"They've returned..." someone whispered.

"Is that...?" another voice trailed off, uncertain yet hopeful.

The elder inhaled deeply, his breath curling in the cold air before he spoke, his voice carrying over the murmuring villagers. "What a sight to behold... Those two have done it."

All eyes turned to the figures pressing forward through the storm—the mimics, Echo and Hush, trudging through the final stretch of snow, burdened yet unwavering. Between them, slumped over their shoulders, was an unconscious woman.

More whispers stirred in the crowd.

"Could it really be her?"

"The Moon Knightess... after all this time?"

"The legends spoke of her return beneath the full moon..."

The elder's expression remained steady, yet a flicker of reverence touched his eyes. "The Moon Knightess has returned to our land," he declared, the weight of his words sending a ripple through the gathered villagers.

As Echo and Hush finally reached the summit, they carefully lowered Yumiko into the snow, her body still and unresponsive. The villagers edged forward, peering at her face, some with awe, others with doubt.

"She looks different than I imagined..." one muttered.

"She's hurt," another noted, voice laced with concern.

Hush and Echo, without a word, reached for their masks, pulling them away to reveal their faces. A sharp intake of breath passed through the villagers.

The elder stepped forward, nodding slowly as he regarded the two. "Welcome home, Echo. Hush. It has been some time."

The murmurs swelled once more, questions bubbling beneath the surface. Yet one truth remained undeniable—the Moon Knightess had returned, and with her, a long-buried destiny stirred once more.

The gathered crowd, astonished by Yumiko's battered state, murmured with growing concern. "Leofric… Roderic…" The elder's voice rang with quiet authority, his words carrying weight as he addressed the two mimics by their true names. The murmuring crowd quieted, their curiosity sharpened into concern. "You received our village's summons, yet you return not only in secrecy but bearing a woman on the edge of death. If you are to stand before us now, then speak—what fate has befallen her?"

The healer stepped forward, his presence calm yet firm. He knelt beside Yumiko, his fingers hovering just above her pallid skin before pressing gently against her wrist. A frown creased his brow as he traced the unnatural chill that clung to her body, his fingertips barely registering a pulse. "This is not merely exhaustion, nor the work of the cold," he murmured, his voice hushed yet urgent. "Her warmth is fading… but not because of the mountain's breath. Her skin—drained of color, her limbs—far too light, as if life itself is slipping away."

Straightening, he exhaled sharply, his expression darkening as he turned his gaze back to the mimics. "Her blood is tainted," he stated gravely. "Poison seeps through her veins, gnawing away at her strength. And I tell you now—this is no ordinary affliction. Whatever foul hand dealt her this fate, its work is beyond the reach of simple medicine."

Gasps rippled through the gathered villagers, voices rising in alarm. "Poisoned?" someone whispered. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Can it be cured?" another asked, desperation lacing their tone.

The healer's lips pressed into a thin line. "That depends," he said, his eyes never leaving the mimics. "On what, exactly, you two have gotten yourselves—and her—into."

Leofric took a deliberate step forward, cutting through the murmur of anxious voices. He lifted an arm, holding it steady for a few moments, a silent command for the crowd to turn their attention to him. The villagers obeyed, their chattering dying down as they focused on the masked figure standing before them.

"We have brought the Moon Knightess back to her homeland—safe, alive," Leofric declared, his voice unwavering. "Though her body has succumbed to a cruel and unfamiliar poison, she still draws breath. I do not understand the nature of this affliction, nor how it has ravaged her to this extent. All I know is that we have done our part in ensuring she returns to the land of her birth. What happens now—how you choose to help her—falls upon you."

His words carried weight, and the conviction in his tone sent a ripple through the gathered crowd. The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, some nodding in agreement, others furrowing their brows in worry.

The doctor, having listened carefully, let out a slow breath before rising to his feet. He dusted the snow from his robes, his mind already sifting through the limited options available.

"I am afraid," he began, his voice steady but grave, "that I do not possess the means to purge this poison from her body through conventional medicine. Whatever venom courses through her veins is unlike any I have encountered before—it does not simply weaken her, it is systematically shutting her down, severing her connection to herself. Her body fights to resist it, but as time passes, the venom will consume her completely."

Another round of distressed murmurs spread through the crowd.

"Then what can be done?" someone finally asked, desperation creeping into their voice.

The doctor cast a glance toward the mountain peaks in the distance, their jagged edges dusted in silver under the moonlight. He turned back to face Leofric and Roderic, his expression unreadable.

"There is one method," he said carefully, weighing his words. "It is not a cure, but it may grant her a fighting chance. The Moon Knightess was born beneath these skies, in this frigid land where the blood of her ancestors runs deep. And now, it is only through this land's most merciless embrace that she might be saved."

He paused, letting the weight of his statement settle before continuing.

"We must encase her in the Ice Stone."

Gasps erupted from the villagers. Some recoiled in shock, while others exchanged knowing looks.

"The Ice Stone?" someone whispered.

"Are you mad? That will freeze her alive!" another objected.

The doctor shook his head. "Precisely. The poison inside her festers because it moves, because it spreads. If we seal her within the Ice Stone, her body will enter a state of complete stillness—her heartbeat will slow, her blood will cease its flow, and in that frozen stasis, the poison will be trapped, unable to claim her any further. Over time, the venom will wither, unable to sustain itself in a host that no longer moves. And when the time is right, when we can determine that the poison has been fully purged, we will awaken her."

Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. The weight of such a decision loomed over them all.

Leofric folded his arms, considering the plan. "And you're certain this will work?" he asked.

The doctor met his gaze. "No," he admitted. "But I am certain that if we do nothing, she will not live to see another dawn."

The crowd fell into uneasy contemplation. The wind howled through the mountain, a cold reminder of the harsh reality before them.

A heavy silence settled over the gathering, the only sound the wind whispering through the frozen peaks. The villagers stood still, contemplating the weight of the doctor's words. Some cast hesitant glances at the unconscious figure in the snow, her pale face barely visible beneath the moonlight. Others exchanged wary looks, uncertain of the drastic measure proposed.

Leofric, arms still folded, studied the doctor carefully. "If we go through with this… how long will she need to remain frozen?"

The doctor exhaled, his breath curling into the cold air. "That depends on the strength of her body and will. It could take weeks. Months. Even longer. But if we do nothing, she has only days."

A woman in the crowd took a hesitant step forward, rubbing her arms as if to fend off the cold that had nothing to do with the weather. "And what if she doesn't wake up?" she asked. "What if she never breaks free of the ice?"

The doctor's expression was solemn. "Then at least she will have been given a chance. A still body has a far greater chance of survival than one being slowly devoured from within."

Roderic, who had remained quiet up until now, finally spoke. "And the process? How do you intend to encase her?"

The doctor turned toward the towering mountain peaks, his gaze locked onto a specific formation where the ice shimmered a shade deeper than the rest.

"The Ice Stone isn't just any frozen rock," he explained. "It is a sacred element of our land—formed from the heart of these mountains, known for its ability to preserve what it touches. The cold it emits is absolute. It does not simply chill, it suspends. If we carve a chamber deep enough and surround her with it, the stone will do the rest."

A murmur ran through the crowd again. Some of the older villagers nodded knowingly, while the younger ones still seemed hesitant. The Ice Stone was a legend among them, something they spoke of in passing but had never dared to use on a living person.

Leofric and Roderic exchanged glances before turning back to the doctor.

"And who will be the one to oversee this?" Leofric asked.

The doctor straightened his posture, a quiet conviction in his eyes. "I will."

At this, another man stepped forward, this one much older, his face lined with the years he had seen. He was draped in heavy fur, a staff in one hand, his presence immediately commanding the attention of the villagers.

"If the Moon Knightess is to be placed within the Ice Stone," the elder said, his voice slow and measured, "then it must be done with the proper rites. She is one of us, born of this land, tied to its ancient ways. The mountain must accept her, not reject her."

The doctor nodded in agreement. "Then we must act before her body deteriorates further."

The elder turned to the villagers. "Gather the strongest among you. We will need to carve the Ice Chamber by nightfall. The longer we wait, the weaker she becomes."

At his command, several men immediately sprang into action, moving toward the higher paths of the mountain where the Ice Stone could be properly harvested. Others, mostly the women and elders, remained behind, watching as Leofric and Roderic gently lifted Yumiko's still form.

"We entrust her to you," Roderic said, looking at the doctor and the elder.

"She will endure," the elder reassured them. "The blood of the moon runs through her veins. If anyone can survive the frozen trial, it is her."

As the villagers moved to prepare the chamber, Leofric cast one last glance at the sky. The moon hung bright and full above them, bathing the land in its cold glow.

Perhaps, he thought, it was watching over her even now.

To Be Continued...