Cursed Snow

The wind howled across the landscape as Kuu strode across the frozen ground. Overhead, the sky was dark as the sun hung low in the sky, casting what pale light it offered on the desolate and barren land. Soon, it would set, ending the few hours of daytime that the winter in Luminen offered. Not that Kuu minded. There were some people who complained about the cold, the weak and bitter tribes to the south, but they existed only to be crushed by the strong.

Luminen was a harsh land, fit only for those with the will to survive. From the glacial cliffs of the western seas to the fjords and jagged islands of the south and east, the expanse was composed of frozen ground as hard as iron, and very little else. Warring tribes fought for what few resources the lands did offer, and… That was what brought Kuu to the shrine on that very day.

All around her, low, domed buildings rose from the ground. They created small profiles to deflect the wind and reduce their chances of being torn to shreds, but still, every now and again, the structures succumbed to the gales that swept the land. Ahead, Kuu found her destination, and descended a few steps to slip through the wooden door that kept the cold at bay.

She stepped from the bitter cold and into the dimly lit room that served as the pack’s shrine to Talvisusi. It wasn’t a particularly large building, and it struggled to hold its few occupants, no more than a half dozen individuals including herself. The two men closest to the door were the pack’s Thanes, Kirottu Gore-Child and Verikoira. The former, who gained his epithet due to his horrifically bloody birth, was about as pleasant as his name made him sound; his face was in a near-permanent scowl, and he communicating more through irritated grunts and snarls than actual words. The latter, Verikoira, was responsible for leading the pack’s hunts, and for keeping and training the Dire Wolves. While he was capable of incredible acts of savagery, he was also capable of kindness, and had become something of a second father to Kuu. Both men were clad in leather and hide, though Kirottu also wore a mangy fur cloak.

A little deeper into the shrine sat Siniverinen, Kuu’s older brother. He was nowhere near as intimidating as the duo of Thanes, being quite a bit thinner and shorter. Like all Sudenveri, he still fashioned himself as a warrior – he wore a mishmash outfit of leather straps and fur held together by iron studs, though much of his chest and the entirety of his right arm was left uncovered. Like Kirottu, he also wore a fur cloak, though this one was of a much better condition. From a distance, he certainly did look the part, but that illusion evaporated as soon as one saw his face. It belonging to a spoiled prince, not a ruthless raider. Pathetic.

Finally, at the opposite end of the room, stood the pack’s most important members, the Noaidi and the Chieftain. Noaidi Hämähäkki was a crooked man, in body and spirit. Old and frail, he wore layer upon layer of thick furs and cloth. Most of his face was obscured by a hood, and the shrine’s poor lighting made it impossible to make out more than the most basic outline of features. But, knowing him, he was most likely wearing an expression of pensive concern.

Finally, there was Chieftain Raukka, Kuu’s father. Like most warriors in the pack, his attire consisted of hide and leather, though these simple materials were supplemented by a fur cloak held in place by a iron clip; a thin circlet of polished bronze adorned his head, and his greying hair was pulled back and tied in braids.

The two men, her father and Noaidi Hämähäkki, stood either side of the pack’s altar to Talvisusi – the god of wolves and winter. The altar was a small thing, a warped piece of iron crudely hammered into what vaguely resembled a wolf’s skull. Placed at the base were simple offerings – a dagger, a pelt, and some bones including a wolf skull – the real skull contrasting sharply with the shoddy ersatz skull of the altar.

As Kuu made her way towards Talvisusi’s alter, Verikoira gave her a small nod. It was meant to reassure her, she supposed, but it didn’t. Siniverinen was even less helpful, giving her a feral, mocking smirk.

Coming to a stop before the altar, Kuu looked around as if searching for something that was missing. Finally, she looked to Hämähäkki and said, with no small amount of contempt,

“Where is he?”

Hämähäkki shifted uneasily. Despite his prestigious position within the pack, he was a weak and craven man – Kuu could break him in two if she wanted, and he knew it.

After too long of a pause, he replied. “Your betrothed will be here soon.”

Yes, Kuu was to be married. Well, married off. Her “betrothed” was a Thane of the Kirvesorjat, a large pack to the north of her own. The reason for the marriage was simple: the Kirvesorjat were strong and the Juurella were not. A pack to the east was rapidly growing in power and was encroaching on the Juurella’s territory. Aware that his pack could not win against this threat, Chieftain Raukka sought to build alliances with other packs by marrying off his daughters. Well, the daughters he’d not already deflowered himself, that is.

There was discontent amongst Chieftain Raukka’s Thanes and Alphas; many felt it was dishonorable to seek help and that such politicking was a sign of weakness... And they were right, as far as Kuu was concerned. That said, her father had never much cared for honor, and he had enough supporters to maintain his rule over the pack and push forward with his political machinations.

Kuu had not met her to-be husband, all she knew was that his name was Yönherra. While she knew next to nothing about her betrothed, though, she did know a little about his pack. The Kirvesorjat were the largest pack Kuu was aware of, possessing three settlements. Even among the ruthless and generally cruel Sudenveri, the Kirvesorjat were seen as especially savage and bloodthirsty. Moreover, there were tales of strange, obscene rituals to dark gods, and twisted, nightmarish creatures stalking the pack’s hunting grounds.

If I’m going to survive, and ever hope to see my own pack again, I will need every ounce of strength I have.

That much was a fact, as far as Kuu was concerned. She didn’t expect that she would see her pack again for quite some time, possibly not for years or even decades, but she did hope to return at some point. She slowly looked around the room, and imagined the different advice that each person might give to help her stay alive. Hämähäkki would offer all sorts of rituals and prayers, but she wouldn’t even consider that. She believed in Talvisusi, certainly; she had seen enough dark magic on the ice to be convinced of the existence of such gods, but in her experience, his worshippers tended to die just as quickly as those who stood against him. For that matter, the dark god sometimes seemed to enjoy killing his own people, though she would never voice that opinion out loud. On the flip side, Siniverinen would tell her how to make a good impression, how to wield her position for the good of both herself and her tribe. The simple thought made her imagine ripping off his arms and leaving him to freeze on the ice. That seemed a good position for him to be in.

Behind her, the door gave a small creak. She knew better than to turn around. A few moments later, a large, shaggy figure stepped up next to her. He stank of blood, of gore, and of sweat, and wore thick robes fastened with clips made of bone. This was Yönherra, of that there could be no doubt.

“Welcome.” Chieftain Raukka bowed deeply. “It is an honour to have a member of the Kirvesorjat here to-”

“It is not an honour to be here.” Yönherra’s voice was deep and guttural. “I have come to this pathetic tribe because I have heard that the softer conditions here create greater beauty in their females.” He snorted. “Your men certainly seem to have risen to the challenge.”

Kuu couldn’t resist smiling at the insult. Her brother’s face darkened, but before she could enjoy his discomfort, Yönherra grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her to face him. In that moment, she looked upon him for the first time, and felt her blood turning slowly to ice.

Yönherra’s face was dark and twisted, covered in scars, many of which looked intentional, instead of inflicted in battle. One of his eyes was darker than the other, though not to a great degree. All told, he stood about a head taller than her, and had muscles that looked as though they could rip a man limb from limb without breaking a sweat.

“This one will do nicely.” He muttered after a moment, and spun Kuu back to face the altar. “She’ll keep my bed warm enough for me, and she looks to be well-built for child-bearing.”

“She’s a lovely one.” Chieftain Raukka nodded. “One of my personal favorites.” He smiled down at Kuu, though not with a great deal of fatherly affection. “It will be difficult to part with such an attractive daughter.”

Hämähäkki, perhaps sensing that the situation could quickly spiral out of hand, rose slightly. “Let us proceed.”

He began chanting in a strange, dark language, the Tongue of the Night. Chieftain Raukka joined in here and there, as did Yönherra. As a woman, Kuu had been forbidden from learning the black tongue, though she still caught a few words here and there. Night, wolf, offspring.

All told, the marriage ceremony took a mere five minutes. Ceremonies among the Sudenveri were short and to the point. They had to be, simply out of necessity. As they finished, Chieftain Raukka rose and smiled down at Kuu. He could not speak to her anymore, at least not on that day, per the usual customs of their people. With that, he swept out of the room and into the cold. Kirottu Gore-Child and Verikoira soon followed, with Verikoira giving her another – useless – affirmative nod. Siniverinen was last, skittering out of the shrine with a look of equal parts fear and anger at his sister.

“Come wife.” Yönherra spat as he turned around, "Though the night is late, I wish to enjoy you before we depart from this joke of a pack."

Kuu had no choice, but she would at least keep her head held high as she followed her new mate out into the cold.