"False Bravado, Candlelit Ceremony for the Dead."

-Later-

The wolves lay scattered, their bodies a grisly tapestry of mutilated fur and snapping jaws, their lifeless forms a stark testament to the power that had been unleashed in their midst. The great oak, once a silent sentinel, now bore the marks of a titanic struggle, its bark shredded and bloodstained. Arteus, the unlikely hero, stood before them, his breaths coming out in great, frosty clouds as he surveyed the scene with a grim satisfaction.

"G-Gracie... Grammy!" Lilly shouted, her voice cracking with emotion as she sprinted back to her family, the wind at her back seemingly pushing her forward with the urgency of a thousand prayers. Her legs burned with the fire of hope rekindled, each step a declaration of life in the face of death's cold embrace. The two figures she had left behind, her sister and her grandmother, were frozen in place, their eyes wide with shock at the sudden turn of events.

As she approached, the little girl, Gracie, broke free from the elderly woman's grip, her eyes bright with tears that had yet to fall. "Lilly!" she screamed, her voice a mix of fear and relief, and threw herself into her sister's arms. Lilly caught her, her own legs wobbling with the impact, but she held firm, her embrace a bastion of warmth in the biting cold. The child's body was a bundle of tremors, but Lilly felt her own shaking subside as she held her sister tight, as if her love could shield them from the horrors of the world.

Her gaze, however, remained locked on the figure that had emerged from the blizzard to save them. Arteus. His eyes were the color of the melt flowers that had driven him to this desolate place, and in their depths, she saw a world of pain and understanding that seemed to resonate with her own. He watched them with a gentle concern, his hand wrapped around his bloody mitten, a silent testament to the battle that had been waged for their lives.

But it was the sound of her grandmother's tongue clicking against her teeth that shattered the moment's fragile peace. The sharp noise echoed through the hollow silence like a whip crack, and Lilly felt a cold fist of reality close around her heart. She looked down to find the woman's eyes, usually so warm and loving, now hard as the ice that coated the earth.

"Tch! It appears the whelp has cheated fate once more," Her grandmother, spat the words with a mix of disgust and begrudging respect as she held her gaze on Arteus, her eyes as sharp as the ice that coated the landscape.

Arteus took a moment to collect his thoughts as he eyed the old woman. Her face was etched with lines that told a story of a life hard lived, yet her posture remained unyielding, a testament to the spirit that had carried her through the decades.

"...," he began, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to echo the distant thunder of the mountains, "are there any other survivors?"

The old woman, her eyes narrowed into slits, took a moment before she responded. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said smirking, her tone a mix of curiosity and challenge. It was a question that hung in the air, thick with unspoken accusation.

"Granny..." Lilly interjected, her voice laced with worry. The fiery spirit that had fueled her earlier bravado was now a mere ember, flickering with the realization that perhaps it was not wise to antagonize the man who had just saved their lives. She knew the old woman's ways, the sharp tongue that often accompanied her gratitude, but this was different. This was a moment that called for respect and humility, not spite.

The old woman's gaze fell upon her, a fleeting softening of her features giving way to a stern expression of warning. "Hold your tongue, child," she admonished, "You don't know what this... beast is capable of."

Lilly felt the warmth of Gracie's tears soaking her cloak as she stared at Arteus. His eyes, once filled with the gentle embers of empathy, had turned into a glacial flint, his jaw clenched tight as he absorbed the old woman's words. The tension grew, a palpable entity that seemed to suck the air from the space between them. The snow beneath their boots crackled as if in protest of the sudden hostility, the peace that had briefly bloomed in the aftermath of the battle now choked by the creeping vines of suspicion and fear.

"...and if i say i would?" Arteus' voice pierced the silence, a mere whisper that seemed to carry the weight of his very soul. "Then i'd say find someone else to be your snitch," came the response from the venerable old woman.

Her smirk grew, a knowing glint in her eyes that suggested she was not as frail as she appeared. "But if you wish to hear our stories," she continued, "I'll share them, for I've lived long enough to know when fate's hand is at play. But you must promise me one thing, young man."

"And what would that be?" Arteus replied, his tone measured, his gaze unflinching.

The grandmother's smirk grew into a full smile, revealing a set of teeth that had seen more winters than Lilly had years. "You must swear to me, by the very gods that tremble at the sound of their own prophecy, that you will not force a single word from these girls. Their hearts have been through enough."

Silence enveloped the area, thick and heavy, like a woolen blanket thrown over a sleeping village. It was a silence that held its breath, waiting for the next heartbeat of the world to pulse through its veins and bring life back into the frozen wasteland. The snowflakes paused in their descent, the trees ceased their whispered conversations, and even the very air seemed to still, as if the world itself had frozen in anticipation of Arteus's reply.

His gaze swept over the old woman before him, and the sight that met his eyes was one of stark reality. Her legs were gone, not a mere figment of the grisly imagination that the aftermath of battle often conjured. The left was ripped off cleanly at the thigh, leaving a ragged stump that spoke of a brutality that knew no mercy. The right, a few inches above the knee, bore the marks of a more deliberate cut, a surgical precision that spoke of a hand that had done this before. Her clothing was tattered, stained with blood that had long since turned to ice, and yet she stood, propped against the tree, as if she had merely decided to take a rest amidst the carnage.

How was she still alive?

Well regardless, she was in no position to be giving out orders. Yet here she was, standing tall and unyielding amidst the frozen hellscape, her voice a command that echoed through the stillness like the toll of a distant bell.

"... your old hag?" The old woman asked, "If you're here i take it she's safe?"

Arteus's eyes narrowed, the gentle warmth in them replaced by a feral intensity that made the air crackle with tension.

"I see," the old woman said, her eyes flicking to his face, noticing the shift in his expression, "The pup is dead then."

Her words were a slap in the face, "Ha." but it was her laughter that stung, "Haha-hahahaha!" It started as a low, rumbling chuckle that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them, and grew into a full-blown cackle that echoed through the frozen woods, ending, in a fit of coughs that sent plumes of mist into the air.

Arteus' fists clenched at his sides, the fabric of his cloak straining against his knuckles. His eyes, once warm with concern, had turned to chips of ice, the color of the glacial waters that lay hidden beneath the mountain's frozen peaks. He took a step forward, his intention clear: to silence the old woman's mockery with a fist to her mouth.

But as he moved, two figures emerged from the shadows of the tree line, their forms illuminated by the soft glow of the dying day. Lilly and Gracie, their faces etched with fear and confusion, sprinted to stand between Arteus and their grandmother, their bodies trembling with the cold and the weight of what they had just witnessed.

"Listen here buddy, i don't know what beef you have with my grandma," Lilly spoke, her voice quaking slightly, "But if you want to hurt her, you will have to get through us first."

Her words were a declaration of war, a challenge thrown down before the frozen altar of the prophecy. Despite the tremors that ravaged her body, she stood firm, her fists clenched at her sides, a fiery determination blazing in her eyes. Gracie, though younger and smaller, mirrored her sister's stance, her tiny hands balled into fists that trembled with the effort of defiance.

But before Arteus could respond, their grandmother lifted a trembling hand and waved them away. "I see, i see, so the gods have taken you from us." she croaked, her voice a mere whisper that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "Huh? Hanna..."

The old woman's laughter had transformed into a chilling sob, and suddenly, she was no longer a figure of defiance, but a crumpled mess of sorrow, her body wracked by sobs that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her. The sight of her, once so strong and unyielding, now brought to her knees by grief, was a stark contrast to the fiery spirit that had driven her earlier.

It was then that Lilly understood. The words had not been a mockery, but a release of pain, a mourning for a loss so deep it had carved a chasm in the very fabric of their existence. Her heart ached for her grandmother, and for the first time since the battle's end, she felt the full weight of the prophecy's cruel touch.

Without a second thought, Lilly turned and wrapped her arms around the old woman, pulling her into a fierce embrace that seemed to warm the very air around them. The tremors that had held her so tightly only moments before were replaced with the gentle warmth of human connection, and she felt a tear slip down her own cheek as she held her grandmother close, her chest heaving with the sobs that echoed through the quiet glade.

Gracie, though still trembling, moved to stand beside them, her small hand reaching out to touch their grandmother's shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity in the face of their shared grief. For a moment, the three of them were the only things that existed in the world, a bastion of warmth and love in the heart of the frozen wasteland that the prophecy had wrought.

Arteus watched the scene unfold before him, his heart torn between the anger that still simmered in his veins and the sudden, overwhelming sadness that seemed to have swallowed the old woman whole. He knew that pain all too well, the loss of a loved one, the feeling of being adrift in a sea of ice and despair. It was a grief that had driven him to the very edge of the world, he clicked his tongue, "TCH!", and turned away to hold himself from breaking down.

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs with the bitter taste of regret and the metallic scent of blood. He knew he couldn't let his emotions control him, not now. There was still so much to do, so much to understand. "Take me to the others," he said, his voice firm, his resolve unshaken despite the tumult within.

The old woman nodded, her tears freezing on her cheeks as she looked up at him, "That... that was always the plan," she whispered, her voice cracking with sorrow.

...An old woman who mourned the death of one scorned by the village, this elderly figure of boundless bravado and compassion was once chief of the village, Barley and now, current owner of the largest store in the village, the red-square.

She was, Millie Pennant.

-To Be Continued-