The times were good for Dar’win, chieftain of the tribe.

  Despite the brutal ditions of the frozen nd they called home, the tribe thrived like never before. Their numbers had swelled to over a hundred—an impressive feat for trolls, who rarely gathered in such rge, united groups unless a force strohan mere instinct bound them together.

  Food lentiful. Thanks to the shamans’ mastery of ice magic, they could now preserve their supplies for months, a luxury unheard of in the past. Their prosperity only grew after the first successful domestication of bison, a feat made possible uhe guidance of their guardian.

  No longer did trolls move aimlessly, fighting only for their own survival. Now, they worked with purpose—for the tribe, for their kin, for the future. Iurn, they were given safety, shelter, and sustenance. And for those who proved themselves, there was something eveer—the blessing of the guardian. Enlighte.

  More than half the tribe had already received it. The rest were either newborns or ret outsiders who had yet to prove their worth. But among the enlightehe first ten still stood above the rest, their wisdom and strength shaping the very foundations of the tribe.

  Dar’win’s gaze shifted to a group of young trolls gathered around a shaman, listening ily as they traced symbols into the snow. A written nguage—letters and words, tools of unication and knowledge. The introdu of writing had ged everything. Now, history could be recorded, messages exged without voice, ideas shared beyond a single moment.

  With a satisfied nod, he moved on, his heavy footsteps eg through the massive cavern.

  Deeper ihe mountain, trolls toiled, expanding their home. Their cave, once a simple shelter, was being a fortress. Enormous figures hauled away boulders, their strength making light work of what would take lesser beings days to aplish. Others reinforced the walls, ensuring that their new home would stand strong against time and the elements.

  As Dar’win walked, cheg on the progress, a soft light flickered behind him. He turned, his keen eyes log onto the spectral form of a bird gliding toward him. A unication spell, woven by the shamans, was used to send messages across distances.

  The ghostly bird hovered before him, then whispered in a voily he could hear:

  “To the main chamber. Seek sultation.”

  Short, but urgent.

  Without hesitation, Dar’win turned and made his way toward the heart of the tribe’s domain—the main chamber, where the most crucial matters were decided. As he approached, the t statue of their guardian loomed in the firelight, its silent gaze watg over them all.

  A few mier, he arrived.

  Dar’win stepped into the main chamber, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the stone floor. The air was thick with the st of burning herbs, a faint blue haze swirling from a ceremonial brazier at the ter of the room. Around him, the leaders of the tribe—warriors, hunters, builders, and shamans—had already gathered, waiting in silence for his arrival.

  At the far end of the chamber, beh the ever-watchful gaze of their guardian’s statue, stood Rok’ka, the head shaman. His gaff, adorned with bones ahers, pulsed faintly with mana as he regarded Dar’win with sharp, knowing eyes.

  Dar’win took his seat at the ter of the gathering, while Rok’ka moved to stand beside him. Together, they looked upon the assembled trolls.

  “You called for sel,” Dar’win rumbled, his voice eg through the chamber. “Speak.”

  Rok’ka exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Humans,” he said simply. The word alo a ripple of murmurs through the trolls.

  Dar’win narrowed his eyes. “More?”

  The shaman nodded. “The ones we slew were not lone wanderers. Warbands do not hunt alone. If there are some, there are more.”

  A low growl rumbled through the chamber. Humans. Uhe beasts of the frozen wilds, these creatures were not mindless. They had ons, tactics, and nguage. More importantly, they were not bound by instinct alohey could think, pn, and adapt.

  “We have fought them before,” a warrior troll grunted, arms crossed. “They are weak.”

  “They are desperate,” Rok’ka corrected. “And desperation makes the weak dangerous.”

  Dar’win leaned forward, his massive arms crossing over his chest. “What did the spirits tell you?”

  Rok’ka closed his eyes for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear. Then he spoke, his tone heavy with meaning.

  “They e seeking food and shelter, just as we once did. Their kind is not suited for this nd, yet they linger.” His eyes opened, glowing faintly with spiritual energy. “If they have reached our hunting grounds, then their numbers are close.”

  A heavy siletled over the chamber.

  Dar’win sed the faces of his kin. Some warriors looked eager, their hands tightening around their ons. Others—especially the builders and shamans—were more cautious.

  “We are no longer a wandering pack,” Dar’win finally said. “We have a home now. A tribe. We do not strike without reason.”

  Rok’ka nodded approvingly. “Then what is our path?”

  The trolls never hesitated to fight when challenged, but this was different. Humans were not mere beasts—they were an unknown force. Ag recklessly could bring unforeseen sequences.

  Dar’win exhaled. “We send scouts. Learn their numbers, their strength. If they are weak, we chase them away. If they are strong, we must decide whether to treat them as prey… or something else.”

  A deep murmur passed through the trolls.

  “Will we speak with them?” one of the shamans asked.

  “Only if we must,” Dar’win answered. “For noatch. We learn. We prepare.”

  Rok’ka struck his staff against the stone floor, the sound sealing the decision.

  The trolls had faced beasts, storms, and starvation—but now, for the first time, they would face men.

  Ohe matter was decided, some of the leaders left to tend to their duties. Dar’win remaiurning his attention to aopic with the shaman.

  “How goes the preparation for the expedition to the Fod's domain?”

  “It was pleted just a day ago. We selected the best of our craftsmen—those who handle fire aal,” Rok’ka replied, gng at a nearby part filled with reports. “Now, we only o wait for the head of the huo return. Ohey do, they will gather an escort team, and the expedition depart.”

  Dar’win heir guardian had guided them well. Both he and Rok’ka uood that if the trolls could master the art of smithing, their strength would grow even further. Now, it to the choseo learn the ways of fire aal.

  All Dar’win could do was trust in their guardian to watch over them.

  -^-^-^-^-^-

  Marcus sighed as he looked down at his most ret prey—a rge wolf, its body sprawled lifeless on the snow. Around him, the ndscape was scarred with craters and scorched patches, remnants of the battle that had stretched lohaicipated. Even now, faint wisps of steam rose from the melted snow, twisting into the chill night air.

  "It was more troublesome than expected," he muttered, nudging the wolf's body with the tip of his cwed boot. The beast had been agile, dartiween his attacks with surprising speed. But in the end, it had only deyed the iable.

  He took a moment to survey his surroundings. The night had grown deep, and the stars above were sharp and cold. He had been hunting for a while, further from the troll cave than he initially phe terrain here was different—less snowfield, mrass pins with a thin dusting of white. The open space suited him fi allowed his attacks to spread freely, leaving behind the burned and shattered ground.

  Still, the hunt had been fruitful. The essence he absorbed from the wolf was faint but refined, a slight boost to his already potent power He also got quite a few other essences before this to boost as well. Marcus spread his wings, the dark feathers catg the moonlight as he prepared to take off.

  But as he asded, something caught his eye—a soft glow in the distance, faint but steady. He paused, narrowing his eyes. Amidst the darkness, a thin trail of smoke curled zily into the sky, almost invisible against the night.

  "Is that... smoke?" he thought, a flicker of curiosity stirring in him. The glow resembled a campfire, and where there was fire, there was civilization. No matter the race, any creature with a mind to harness fire was worth iigating.

  A bit of excitement crept into his usually calm demeanour, a subtle spark of i. He had sees and wild things aplenty since his awakening, but se beings were a different matter entirely. Perhaps he could learn something new—or, at the very least, find more iing prey.

  His wings shifted, angling him toward the distant glow. With barely a whisper, Marcus flew, cutting through the cold air with practised ease, his eyes fixed on the source of the firelight.

  The closer Marcus flew, the harder it was to tain his excitement. Questions tumbled through his mind, each more eager tha. Were they humans, or something else entirely? What sort of culture thrived in this time? Would it resemble the early days of Demacia or Noxus, or perhaps something more a—predating even the Rune Wars? No, that couldn’t be right. The Rune Wars shouldn’t have happened just yet, should they?

  His wings beat steadily as he approached, eyes glinting with curiosity. Would it be wiser to watch from afar, to study them first before making tact? He imagihe possibilities, each sario more iing tha.

  But the closer he got, the more somethi... wrong. The soft glow he’d seen from a distance wasn’t the f warmth of a campfire—it was far brighter, angry and untrolled. His eyes narrowed as the light swelled, flickering wildly against the dark horizon.

  As he drew nearer, high above but close enough to see clearly, the se below came into focus. A settlement, or what was left of one, y in chaos. Fmes devoured wooden houses, their silhouettes writhing in the fire’s embrace. The stenoke and charred flesh reached even him, acrid and bitter.

  Marcus’s gaze swept the ground, and he frowned. Bodies were strewn across the vilge paths—some crumpled where they had fallen, others sprawled in twisted poses of desperation. Blood staihe snow in dark patches, steam rising faintly where it met the cold.

  Among the ruins, shadows moved swiftly. Figures in simple clothes fled for their lives, pached into every step.

  “Humans…” Maroted, eyes narrowing. They were unmistakably human, their faces pale with terror as they darted through the firelight. But behind them came others—hunters of a different kind, their movements sure and predatory.

  These attackers wh cloaks of animal hide and crude leather armor, bdes glinting as they cut down aoo slow to escape. Their eyes gleamed with savage i, mouths twisted in snarls beh fur-lined hoods. It wasn’t a battle—it was sughter.

  Marcus watched, silent and still, as chaos unfolded below. His gaze shifted to a small clearihe edge of the vilge, where a group of survivors had been ered. They huddled together, eyes wide and hopeless, as the attackers surrouhem with bdes drawn. A few men tried to shield the ripping broken spears and farming tools with shaking hands, but it was clear they wouldn’t st long.

  For a moment, Marcus simply observed, wings beating slowly to keep him aloft. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were fixed on the se below, cold and calg.

  “Well,” he murmured to himself, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips. “This might be more iing than I thought.”

  With that, he began to desd, shadows gatherih his wings as he closed in otlefield.

  -^-^-^-^-^-^-

  "Stay still, child... it will be okay..." Rah’s voice trembled, but she forced it to stay soft, soothing. Her arms tightened around the boy, drawing him closer as she murmured words of fort that felt hollow even to her own ears. His small body shook violently, fingers clutg her cloak with a desperation that twisted her heart. No matter how many times she whispered it would be fihe screams and the crackle of fire around them made it painfully clear—it wouldn’t be.

  It had happened so fast. One moment, she was asleep, exhausted from a long day of work building their new home in this unfamiliar nd. The , she was jolted awake by shouts—harsh, panicked cries that tore through the night. Then came the heat, stifling and suffog, as smoke wormed its way through the cracks of the wooden walls.

  Rah barely had time to throw on her cloak before the door lintered open by terrified neighbors. Chaos greeted her outside. Shadows flickered wildly as fire ed house after house, the fmes hungrily dev dry timber. Her fellow settlers ran in every dire, eyes wide and unseeing with panic.

  She ran too, feet stumbling over uneven ground, breath hitg with every scream. Amidst the chaos, she spotted a small figure—frozen in the middle of the path, eyes gzed with shock. Without thinking, she lunged forward, arms ing around the boy just as a surge of fleeing vilgers nearly trampled him.

  He was light, far too light for a child his age, and Rah’s heart twisted painfully. She reized him—Alen, the bcksmith’s you. But his parents were nowhere in sight, and she didn’t dare look back to search for them. All she could do ull him along, whispering frantic reassurances as they fled deeper into the dark.

  But it was no use. The raiders were everywhere, figures shrouded in animal pelts and crude armor, faces shadowed beh hoods. They moved quickly, bdes glinting in the firelight, cutting down aoo slow or too brave to flee. Able-bodied men fell one by one, some with rusty swords, others with farming tools, but all with eyes that bzed defiantly until the st breath.

  Now, Rah and the boy were trapped, ered with the others at the edge of the vilge. A dozen survivors huddled close, wide eyes darting to the treeline as if salvation might spring from the darkness. Crude spears and broken pitchforks were gripped in white-knuckled hands, but they all k ointless. They were surrounded.

  The raiders approached slowly, sav the terror that hung thi the air. A few chuckled, the sound low and mog, as they tightehe circle. The firelight glinted off bdes slick with blood, and Rah bit back a sob, pressing the boy’s fato her shoulder so he wouldn’t see.

  “It’s... it’s going to be okay,” she whispered, though her voice cracked o word. Alen’s fiwisted tighter in her cloak, eyes squeezed shut as if that might block out the screams.

  But then, something stra through the noise—a shadow passing overhead, dark and swift. A gust of wind followed, chillie the fire’s heat. Rah’s breath hitched, eyes darting upward instinctively. High above, something moved—something rge, wings spread wide against the smoke-streaked sky.

  A sudden gust of wind howled through the burning vilge, fierd icy, tearing at cloaks and snuffing out smaller fmes. Rah flinched, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut as ash and smoke whipped past. The boy in her arms whimpered, fiwisting tighter into her cloak. Around them, the other survivors hunched low, shielding their faces from the stinging wind.

  For a moment, the world was a chaos of noise—crag fmes, distant screams, and the roar of the wind. But then, just as abruptly as it came, the wind died. Silence fell, heavy and suffog.

  Rah opened her eyes slowly, breath catg ihroat. The firelight, once blinding, was now dimmed, blocked by something massive and dark that loomed just beyond the circle of raiders. A shadow stretched across the ground, tall and monstrous, wings half-folded but still spanning wide enough to blot out the raging glow.

  The figure's eyes glowed softly—an eerie blue that cut through the smoke, cold and unfeeling. Those eyes swept over the se, pausing briefly on the huddled survivors before settling on the raiders with a predatory stillness.

  Time seemed to freeze. The raiders, moments ago smug and taunting, stid, eyes wide beh fur-lined hoods. One of them, braver or perhaps more foolish than the rest, took a shaky step back, sword trembling in his grip.

  Then, in a blur of movement too swift to follow, the shadoon them. No roar, n—just a whisper of wind and a siing ch. The raider had barely turned before a massive cwed hand closed around his head, engulfing it pletely.

  The man’s scream was muffled, choked off as the talons tightened with a dreadful finality. Blood spattered the snow, steam rising from it in thin tendrils. The other raiders recoiled, eyes wide with horror, but the being paid them no mind. With a casual indiffere flung the corpse aside, sending the body crashing through the air.

  The raider hit a burning house with a siing thud, the weakeructure groaning before colpsing inward. Fmes surged hungrily, swallowing wood and flesh alike. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the crackle of fire and the low, pitiful moans of the dying.

  But the creature—no, the man—didn’t so much as g the destru. His eyes remained fixed on the remaining raiders, unblinking, dispassionate. A hunter’s gaze.

  Rah’s breath came shallow and quick, her pulse a deafening drumbeat in her ears. She huddled lower, pressing Alen’s fato her shoulder to shield him from the sight, but she couldn’t tear her own gaze away.

  The first raider’s death was like a signal, a twisted invitation to the age that followed. As his screams were drowned by the colpsing, fiery ruins, panic rippled through the rest. Some raiders broke, fear overing bloodlust as they turo flee, boots slipping on the blood-sliow.

  But they barely managed a handful of steps before the being moved. With a sharp swing of its arm, darts of bck feathers shot forth, slig through the air with a sinister whistle. They struck the fleeing raiders with unerring precision, embedding deep into flesh and armor alike.

  Screams tore through the night, raw and desperate. The raiders cwed at the feathers in horror, but it was already too te. The hit points began to smolder, a cold blue fire blooming where the feathers had struck. It spread with unnatural hunger, dev leather and flesh, redug the raiders to twisted, charred husks before they could even colpse to the ground.

  Others, desperate or too maddened by terror to think, charged at the dark figure, ons raised with trembling hands. But the being didn’t falter. It met them with a detached ease, cws sweeping out in wide arcs. Each swing recise, lethal, severing limbs and splitting armor as if it were paper. Blood sprayed in fountains, staining the snow in dark crimson. Bodies fell in pieces, lifeless before they hit the ground.

  It was over in moments. The raiders' numbers dwindled rapidly, their blood steaming on the frostbitteh. Those that still breathed y writhing, pain-wracked and broken, while the few with strength enough to flee stumbled away with frantic, gasping breaths.

  The being’s eyes glinted coldly in the firelight, expression unreadable. It paused, gaze drifting upward to where a handful of raiders had mao scramble onto their mounts. Their beasts reared and shrieked, hooves pounding into the snow as they bolted into the dark, riders ging desperately.

  Rah’s eyes widened in horror and disbelief as she watched the figure shift. Wings, rger than any she’d ever seen, unfurled slowly, casting shadows that stretched across the burning vilge. The sheer span was monstrous, blog out the stars themselves. But it was what came hat left her breathless, heart pounding in her ears.

  From those shadows, creatures began to crawl forth—beasts fed of bone and dark smoke, their forms shifting and insubstantial yet eerily solid. Their eyes glowed with the same eerie blue light as their master’s, jaws parting to reveal rows of razed fangs.

  Without a sound, the beasts sprang forward, paws silent on the snow. They moved with a terrifying speed, blurs of darkhat tore through the night, giving chase to the fleeing raiders.

  For the mihe only sounds were the dull roar of the dying fmes and the screams from afar—anguished, pleading, then abruptly silenced one by ohe survivors could do nothing but huddle together, eyes wide with horror and disbelief as the screams faded into a deafening quiet.

  Rah’s breath came shallow and fast, her fingers numb where they gripped the boy’s cloak. The fmes crackled softly, their light dim and flickering now, painting the snow with a wavering e glow. She forced herself to look up, though every instinct screamed not to.

  The figure stood amidst the age, wings half-folded, eyes fixed upon the huddled survivors. Those glowing blue eyes, cold and unfeeling, took them in with a silehat was somehow more terrifying than any roar or battle cry.

  Rah’s pulse thundered in her ears. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—only stare back at the creature that had sughtered the raiders like beasts and narded them with that same icy detat.

  Was this a saviour? Or just another monster?