Fimbulvinter

The wind whistled through the forest of pines, small bits of snow falling from their drooping branches. A male elk moved carefully through the brush, followed by two females and a calf. They watched him, mimicking his steps to move safely through the woods. He lowered his face to the ground, brushing the snow aside to reveal a cluster of mushrooms. His calf approached, nibbling on the vegetation as the adults kept watch. A slight rustling of the brush in the distance put them on high alert, but they had no time to react before the snap of a bowstring resounded through the air. The buck fell, an arrow sticking out from his chest. The rest of the herd bolted into the woods, letting out sharp cries as they were forced to leave their only protector behind.

A humanoid figure approached the dead buck, his body covered in furs and bones. He stood over the beast, breathing heavily. He wasted no time, tying it to a wooden sled that he dragged behind him. He noticed a small plume of smoke from between the treetops, and he hesitated before approaching cautiously to investigate.

He arrived at an abandoned camp, where foot and hoofprints had packed in the once loose snow. The smoldering remains of a campfire sat in the center of it. The hunter kneeled down, inspecting the area. He grunted, turning to drag his sled in the direction the footprints led. It wasn’t long before he realized that he was heading towards the main road and was going to need a place to hide. A patch of brush atop a small hill that faced the road seemed a decent spot to watch the show. A quick glance around his surroundings confirmed his suspicions: hidden behind trees around various points were people standing in wait. Two wielded bows, while four others were armed with wooden clubs. This wasn’t the first time he had seen a group of bandits lying in wait, but he wanted to see what they were waiting for before he decided anything.

As time passed, the bandits fidgeted more and more. Their beholder shook his head, chuckling to himself. He understood the difficulty of having to sit still for long periods of time, waiting for the perfect moment. He had heard stories of a time when animals were so plentiful that one needed only to walk outside to see them, but then again, he had also heard of a time where the landscape was more than fields of white. He believed none of it, but couldn’t help but wonder what hills of green and deserts of brown would look like. He was snapped out of his daydreams by the crunch of reindeer hooves in the snow. A large sledge emerged from the road that ran through the adjacent woods, where one driver sat in front and two men with guns sat on top of it. The hunter was surprised, as he’d only seen a gun twice in his life. Whatever they were guarding must have been pretty valuable to warrant their expensive usage.

The attackers moved quickly, starting their assault with the archers. One arrow completely missed its mark, but the other managed to hit one of the gunmen in his leg. He shouted in pain, spatters of dark red blood steaming as they hit the blanket of white below their feet. The rest of them charged the carriage, their clubs raised. The driver let out a high-pitched yelp, causing the observer to snort in laughter. The uninjured gunman fired his weapon, dropping the closest one in a single shot. Another arrow flew from the forest, hitting the injured gunmen right in the stomach. The hunter knew that was fatal, especially out here. The bleeding guard realized it soon after, his body falling to the ground below. Another gunshot from the still-living gunman made contact, a fountain of red bursting from the back of its victim. The hunter nodded, for the outcome was decided. They pulled him down from the cart, mercilessly beating the gunman to death. As the hunter watched them move for the terrified driver, something within the hunter felt wrong watching this. The Right of Conquest was the only real law in this world, but a voice within him screamed at him to not let this defenseless man get slaughtered. He sighed, nocking an arrow and taking aim.

The driver scrambled along the ground, too nervous to get a good footing. “Now boys, I'm sure we can settle this in a way that leaves us all satisfied a-and alive! You’ve won the spoils of my carriage, isn’t that what you came for?”

The larger of the two pointed his club at him. “Oh yes it is, but where’s the fun in just leaving you out here to freeze? We ain’t eatin’ in some time now, and I think you’ll make a fine snack ‘til we push this product.” He raised his club to strike, but his cruel laugh was halted by the tip of an arrow erupting from his left eye. He sputtered a few final noises, falling to the ground. His comrade turned to look at where it had come from, and he was greeted by the hulking form of the hunter charging straight at him. The hunter’s bone dagger snuggled deeply into the man’s chest, bringing him to the ground just as quickly as his friend.

The hunter breathed heavily as he stood over the bodies, and though he was tempted, he did not remove his face covering to get a better breath. He knew his lips would last about five minutes in the harsh cold, so he tried to steady his breathing as best he could. An arrow whizzed past him, landing in the driver’s shoulder and causing him to cry out in pain. The hunter turned as another arrow flew right towards him, hitting him in the thigh. He fell to one knee, and the bandit archers revealed themselves, calling out in shouts of success.

“How do you like that, you bastard?!” One of them said, firing another arrow at him. It hit him square in the chest, the arrow protruding like the branch of a tree.

“You killed our brothers, which means your death won’t be quick!” The other archer knelt down to meet the hunter at eye level. “Wonder what kind of face you’re makin’ under there?” She inspected his face covering curiously. She reached up to remove it, but right as she touched him he spun her around, getting her in a chokehold.

“Hey! You let her go!” The other archer said, getting ready to fire another arrow. Despite his ally’s plea not to, he let it loose, and the hunter lunged forward, using her body as a shield. He rammed into the man before he could ready another shot, knocking him to the ground. The hunter went for his facemask, tearing it off in one quick motion. The man cried out in pain as his head was pushed into the snow, and it took no less than a minute before his entire head was a dark gray color.

The hunter stumbled to the driver, who was trying and failing to get the arrow out of his shoulder. He tried to crawl away from the hunter as he approached, arrows still sticking out from his chest and leg. The hunter grabbed his legs, pulling the frantic driver towards him. He made slow motions with his hands, trying to calm the driver down. Eventually the driver realized that if this man wanted him dead, he’d be lying with the others by now. The hunter reached into his satchel, removing a piece of rough leather. Despite the driver’s protest, the hunter quickly removed his face cover, shoved the leather between his teeth, and put it back up. When the hunter softly gripped the arrow in his thick glove, the driver finally understood.

“Oh... All right... I’m ready. Do it!” He bit down on the leather as the hunter pulled on the arrow, ripping it out in one swift motion. The driver cried out in pain while the hunter wasted no time in placing an alcohol patch on the wound and sewing up the tear in the jacket with a thick string attached to a needle made from bone. The driver eventually calmed down, the burning pain receding slightly. “Thank you sir… but what about you?”

The hunter looked at the arrows sticking out from his body, pulling them out with no effort. He waved the arrows in front of the driver, showing him that there was no penetration of his garments. The hunter stuck them in his quiver, then moved towards the bodies of the bandits.

“Please allow me to begin repaying you. You saved my life.” The hunter did not react, and the driver just watched as he went from body to body. “You know, there may be bounties on these folk. Allow me to at least take you into town so that you may collect. Please.”

The hunter looked at him, nodding before beginning to drag the bodies towards the carriage. With the driver’s help, both the bandits and the guards were tied up on top. The driver was very adamant about getting the guns back, which the hunter gave back to him with a disappointed sigh.

“Ready to go?” The driver got back into the cabin where he sat down, making room for the hunter on the cushioned seat. The hunter looked towards the brush where he had left the elk he killed, then back up. He held up a finger, rushing to get what he had originally come out for. Once he had strapped it up top, he took a seat next to the driver and sighed loudly.

“Thanks again for your help, partner. You sure were amazing back there. And you picked a fine sledge to protect.” he looked around, as if checking to see if anyone was listening in their little cabin. “I’m carrying a shipment of records and phonographs to the Juniper Dispersion Center in Mesyou. The big bugs pay mighty prices to get their hands on these y’know.”

The hunter didn’t respond, just looking ahead as the team of reindeer trudged through the snow. He had heard of records before, but he didn’t understand how they worked. Spinning a big black disc under a needle to make music? It must’ve been some kind of technology or magic because he’d never seen anything like it.

“You’re a quiet fella. Strong too. I bet you got yourself a lady that loves that about you! I got a lady myself.” he reached into a pocket on his jacket, pulling from it a shiny silver pendant shaped like a heart. He opened it, proudly displaying a small black and white photo of a young woman. The hunter took it in his hands, inspecting it carefully. “Her name’s Beira. Met her on a delivery I made to Scotland a couple years back. She really makes those train rides across the Ice Seas a good time. You ever been off the continent?” The hunter shook his head, and the driver chuckled. “I suppose not, trains are expensive. If you ever get to though, I’d recommend going to Scandinavia. They got an animal called a Muskox which sells for a great price ‘round here. Might be a lucrative venture for a sharpshooter such as yourself.”

The driver continued to talk as they rode, the hunter just leaning back against the seat and listening. While the driver’s voice was a bit shrill, he was an educated man and was good at telling stories. As the wind whistled outside, the hunter felt at ease for the first time in a long time, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of the driver’s excited rambling.