"She, Who Commands the Barren Shadows."

Barley had survivors and their desperate cries pierced the icy silence, resonating through the ruins of what was once a thriving village. The screams grew louder, a cacophony of pain and fear that seemed to shake the very foundation of the world. Arteus, Lilly, Millie and Gracie exchanged horrified glances. The very air seemed to vibrate with the echoes of those who had endured the unthinkable, their pleas for salvation a poignant reminder of the lives shattered by the chaos that had been unleashed.

"Survivors?!" Arteus shouted, hope flaring in his chest like a wildfire. "Aye boy, make haste!" Millie responded to him as the screams grew louder, a symphony of anguish that seemed to pull at his very soul.

At once the group took off towards the cries, their hearts hammering in their chests. The screams grew louder, more desperate, as if the very fabric of the world was unraveling around them.

-Elsewhere-

[Mount Kendo]

Upon the desolate pinnacle of Mount Kendo, where the cold kissed the very stars themselves, a figure shrouded in shadows deliberated on her next move.

"Have you been able to locate the human that 'Barty' was looking for?" Her voice came from 'without', asking a man of shadows that stood unflinching at the peak of the mountain.

"No, Milady," the figure responded, the words echoing through the cold, stark landscape. His form was a mere silhouette, a man shaped void in a world of ice. "The intelligence appears to have been a ruse to mislead us from their true target."

"A ruse, you say?" she mused, yet within her, a tempest of emotion raged... "Fine, we should move ahead with our other plans then."

The figure in the shadows nodded, his form flickering like a candle in a draughty chamber. "Very well, however, milady," he began, his voice a whisper that seemed to carry the weight of secrets, "I did come across something... of interest."

"Speak," she barked, impatience in her tone.

"Another human, Milady," the shadowy figure spoke up, the wind carrying his words across the frozen wasteland, "his name is Arteus."

The lady with which he addressed paused, taking a moment to consider her next words carefully.

"If this 'Arteus' that you speak of is of any note," she spoke, her voice cold and sharp as the ice that surrounded them, "then our paths shall cross soon enough." There was an unmistakable air of anticipation in her tone, a hunger that was palpable even through the howling wind.

"Now, make for the holy city of Sovereign, Sebastien." she said with the authority of one who commands the very elements.

Sebastien, the man of shadows, nodded and gestured dramatically with his arm. His shadow grew, elongating until it stretched the entire width of the mountain, a dark tendril that reached out like a predatory vine seeking purchase on the frozen peak. The gesture was not merely theatrical; it was a demonstration of power, a declaration of intent that seemed to make the very air crackle with anticipation.

As he did so, a bird, caught in the fury of the blizzard, stumbled into the path of his elongated shadow. It was a creature of the cold, a hardy soul that had braved the icy winds for untold eons. But in that moment, its fate was sealed. The shadow lunged, and in an instant, the bird was ensnared, struggling in the inky embrace. There was a brief, desperate flurry of wings, a silent scream of protest that was swallowed by the raging maelstrom of the storm. Then, with a final, pathetic flap, it was gone, drawn into the shadow and transformed into a pure black orb that hovered before the shadowy man.

Sebastien stepped forward, his boots crunching on the frozen earth. He reached out and touched the orb, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a suddenness that defied the very laws of nature, the orb expanded, swelling until it was large enough to hold a man. He stepped into it, and it enveloped him, swallowing him whole.

-A Short While Later-

[The Village, Barley]

Arteus run ahead of the three women as they rushed to the source of the screams, his booted feet pounding the frozen ground with the urgency of a man on a mission. The wind howled around him, stinging his cheeks and whipping his hair into a frenzied dance, but he paid it no heed. His eyes, sharp as the shards of ice that littered the desolate landscape, searched the horizon for any sign of life amidst the ruins. The screams grew louder with each step, the cries of those trapped in the jaws of despair a siren's song that drew him ever closer.

He knew, deep down in the pit of his stomach, that every second that ticked by was a second too late for those who were suffering. The cold was unforgiving, a silent killer that waited for the weak to falter, and the prophecy had brought forth a world where weakness meant not just defeat, but a fate far more gruesome. The screams grew louder, more desperate, each one a dagger in his heart that urged him to run faster, to fight harder, to do whatever it took to save them.

At the pace they were moving, it was painfully clear to Arteus that they would arrive too late. The cries grew more desperate with each torturous moment that ticked by, echoing through the frozen wasteland like the last gasps of a dying world.

He knew he had a choice to make. He could stay with Lilly, Millie, and Gracie, offering them his strength and protection as they navigated the treacherous ruins together. Or, he could break away, using his unique abilities to sprint through the blizzard with a speed that would leave them in his dust. Alone, he could cover the ground twice as fast, potentially reaching the survivors in time to save lives.

"Protect your family!" Arteus shouted over the howling wind to Lilly, his voice a command that brooked no argument. "I'll find the survivors!"

With that, he diverted onto another path, one that looked more treacherous, more perilous than the one they were on. Without looking back, he leaped over the remnants of a collapsed wall, his boots crunching the icy snow beneath him. He could feel the cold biting at his skin, but he didn't let it slow him down. Instead, he used it as fuel, letting the chill feed the fire in his soul that pushed him to be faster, to be stronger.

The survivors of Barley would not be meeting their ends today.

-To Be Continued-