Kaito unlaced his boots and set them aside. It had been a very eventful day—a sixteen-hour tour of a hidden underground city, Shagal’s dramatic return, and her dire warnings. But now it was late—almost sunrise late—and he was exhausted.
Shagal had ended up leaving to stay in Zenith’s room at the village hall, since that would be more appropriate for a warrior of her ‘stature.’ Propriety and all that.
He was looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow—no need to rise at dawn to get ready for work or do any chores around his property. Maybe he’d try whipping up something with that nighthoney he’d brought from Megnaxia.
But that would have to wait. Right now, only sleep mattered.
He focused on steadying his breathing, slowly relaxing each muscle group from head to toe. He yawned and pulled the blankets up to his chin, thoughts of recipes and nighthoney fading as exhaustion finally caught up with him. Morning, and whatever it brought, could wait a little longer. For now, all he wanted was a few hours of peaceful rest.
Pssst.
Pssst, Kaito, are you awake?
I am now. What is it? Please make it fast.
Everything that’s happened since we arrived makes me wonder what the village did before we were. Or what the other villages do—die from monsters, stampedes, and financial ruin, I guess.
There are other heroes, Karen. In these worlds they always appear at the last moment to save the day. But there are also villages that don’t make it.
I wonder who Calmo’s heroes were before us.
You’d be surprised. Now let me get some sleep.
Pssst, Kaito.
What? What is it now?
Did you know that every odd number has an ‘e’ in it?
Kaito stared into the darkness, his mind racing. The crickets outside seemed deafening. Sleep felt impossible as he mentally repeated numbers, confirming it—one, three, five, seven...all contained that vowel. The harmless fact consumed his thoughts, guaranteeing he wouldn’t sleep for hours. He cursed Karen!
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren removed the small glass from his lips. The thick, irregular glass was etched by years of use—clouded with water stains and smudged fingerprints. Disgusting, he thought after every sip.
He let the spiced rum roll over his tongue before swallowing. As the warmth trailed down to his stomach, the tavern door creaked open.
An older man shuffled in, his grey hair poking out from under a brown leather jacket. His eyes were nearly white, matching the color of his stubbled beard. Navy blue pants hung loosely around his skinny frame. Goren stared for a moment, taking in the form of the familiar old man, who he remembered as being taller and more broad-shouldered.
“Well, well. The White Fury still breathes. I thought you’d died years ago.” Goren asked, while swirling what was left of the velvety white rum in his glass.
“I go by Lotho now. The White Fury is no more, old friend.”
“Lotho?” Goren scuffed. “And what brings a legendary warrior like yourself to this pitiful peasant village?”
“Legendary Warrior, uh. I didn’t know you held me in such high regard.”
“I don’t.”
Lotho signaled old Finn to pour him a drink and then took up the stool next to Goren.
“This place needed a protector. I gladly took the job to defend these good people. What about you, friend? What brings the realm’s strongest warrior all the way to my peaceful little village this early in the morning?”
Finn placed a glass in front of Lotho and filled it with Soothing Dose.
“I’m hunting a man named Kaito. Know where I can find him?”
Lotho laughed so hard that half of the sip of rum he had taken went down the wrong way, causing him to sputter some of it out.
“And what, pray tell, is so funny about that?”
“Oh, apologies, my friend. It’s just, well, you’re in for quite the treat. I wish you the best of luck—you’ll need it.”
“Remember who dealt the killing blow to the Balthier Panther. Do you doubt I can take him?”
“I wouldn’t dare say. But do let me know when the action begins.” Lotho said while wiping his beard.
“This reunion’s done. Enjoy your filthy rum.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Kaito drifted aimlessly in a sea of dreams, jumping from reality to reality, with his mind’s eye finding none more impactful than the last.
Suddenly, he felt a persistent jerking on his arm, pulling him violently from his rest. It felt as if he was rising rapidly to the surface of a still lake.
For a moment, he didn’t know where or even who he was.
Then his vision focused on the anxious face. A face he didn’t mind waking up to. Zenith?
“Kaito! Wake up!”
“Okay, okay, I’m up.”
“Grab your cloak and come outside!”
Before he could respond, she had darted out the door…
How long did we sleep?
[Calculating…]
A bit.
Makes sense. I don’t even feel like responding to that.
Ignoring the AI’s next comment, Kaito sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was confused about what could be so urgent this early in the morning, but appreciated that Zenith at least had the courtesy to close the door behind her. That way, he could get ready in the warmth of his home.
After splashing some water on his face from the washbasin and pulling on his clothes, Kaito grabbed his heavy fur-lined cloak from its hook. He gave the lantern he had “appropriated” after the solstice festival a tap to deactivate it before heading to the door.
A pure white glow steamed through the window, revealing the gist of what awaited outside.
Kaito opened the door and was momentarily blinded. The sun reflected intensely off the knee-high snow that covered the area. He pulled his hood over his eyes and waded forward.
What happened here?
Welcome to Frostfall's Crest, Kaito - Happens precisely two days after the solstice and as you gaze upon this frosty spectacle for the first time, just remember: it's all fun and games until someone has to dig their way to the latrine. I know, colder than my digital heart. Thinking three feet of snow and face-slapping cold is no biggie? Well, imagine, if you will, a world without snowplows, where salt is just for seasoning, not roads. That's right, no problem—until you realize wool undergarments are your only defense. And let me tell you, 'itchy' is an understatement. It's like wearing a sweater knitted by angry cats, each thread a tiny barb against your sanity. Frostfall's Crest is where 'zero gear' isn't a cool new RPG item, but a sad reality of subpar winter clothing. Get ready to meet the snow shovel, your new best friend. Or enemy. Depends on how you feel about upper body workouts.
Thanks for the lore, I guess. Now, where did Zenith run off to?
Kaito trudged through the snow. In the distance, he could make out two familiar figures working diligently. As he got closer, he saw Angelina and Portia packing snow together and sculpting it into a chair? Oh, a throne.
“Good morning, ladies,” Kaito called out. “That’s quite the sculpture you’ve got going there.”
Angelina smiled shyly. “We’re making it for Zenith. She wants to play queen today.”
“More like empress. She’s getting a little too into character if you ask me,” Portia said.
Kaito chuckled. Just then, a burst of fire erupted from the side of his home. Kaito turned to see Jogid unleashing controlled gouts of flame, clearing a path through the snowdrifts surrounding their shack.
“Thank you, Jogid. That will make getting around much easier. Just don’t…”
He won’t burn the house down, will he?
Certainly not. He’s a professional dragon.
Jogid bowed. “Of course, Master Kaito. I live to serve.”
Kaito continued towards the nearly completed throne. Zenith was perched atop it, wrapped in furs. As Kaito approached, she sat up straight, her breath forming icy clouds as she addressed him in an exaggerated royal accent.
“Ah, Sir Kaito. What brings you to my kingdom on this frosty morn?”
Kaito offered an embellished bow.
“My queen, I came as soon as I heard your royal summons.”
“Very good. We have much to discuss regarding the state of my kingdom.”
Portia clearly couldn’t resist the perfect packed powder at her feet. A massive snowball sailed through the air and crashed into Jogid square in the snout with an explosion of white.
Jogid blinked, his kind smile replaced by shock, then mischief. “This means war!” he declared after seeing Portia doubled over in laughter. He swept together his own piled ammunition. Scooping up a mound of snow, Jogid packed it tightly and hurled it back at Portia. She dodged, still laughing.
Kaito ran.
Then bent his knees to propel himself forward, landing in a low position behind a pile of snow that Jogid had erected.
“Oh, it’s on now!” Portia called out.
On team Portia, Zenith cast “Snow Volley!” sending a 10-ball barrage whistling through the air. Angelina magically multiplied and hardened each missile mid-flight. But Jogid cocooned himself behind a quick ice wall, protectively shielding Kaito.
Seeing the girls’ clever strategy, Kaito decided to unveil one of his own special techniques.
When he emerged, Kaito was juggling spheres, chanting under his breath. His orb barrage ricocheted off trees, his house walls, even unfortunate squirrels—the bouncy snowballs relentlessly seeking targets until each found their mark.
Honestly, I didn’t know dragon boy knew how to have fun.
The three visitors realized they had woefully underestimated their comrades.
“Portia, Angelina, guard the rear and prepare a counter—”
Stillness suddenly fell over the field. Kaito was forming another volley when a figure burst from the woods with blinding speed—seemingly faster than time itself. As it rapidly closed the distance, Kaito realized it was not a human but an elf hurtling straight towards him, wielding the purest and strongest IDM he had ever seen.
No one could react in time.
No one except Zenith.
Her hands flashed patterns Kaito had taught her. The tattoos on her arms glowed, and reality seemed to shatter.
When it reformed an instant later, Kaito was standing unharmed, ten feet to the left—the elf now closer to Zenith than to him.
Kaito gasped as the elf pivoted with lightning reflexes, his glowing blue eyes now locked on Zenith. She was his new target—the spellcaster who had spoiled his kill.
Zenith’s fingers traced desperate sigils, but she wasn’t fast enough. The elf moved in a blur, his hand would be at her throat before she could finish the spell. She inched backward. The warmth of the attacker’s fingers was already permeating her skin…
Reality fractured before he could close that tiny gap.
Once more, positions changed in a dizzying rush before anything else could happen. Zenith stumbled back, finding herself behind Portia.
The would-be assassin was likewise displaced, this time caught off guard.
Jogid and Angelina stared, stunned, as the would-be assassin tumbled past, carried forward by unchecked momentum. and ending up facing the woods, his back turned foolishly to his targets. He started to whirl, but before he completed the turn, a lone snowball splattered directly into his face.
The elf froze, snow dripping down his features.
Everyone else froze as well, staring at the elf in surprise. For a long moment, no one moved, the only sound the gentle fall of snow.
Outstanding shot, Master Kaito.
“If you want to play, you may only use snow!”
Kaito lowered his throwing arm sheepishly, while the others stifled nervous laughter. He couldn’t tell if the elf was angry, embarrassed, or simply caught off guard.
The elf grimaced and slowly wiped the muddy slush from his eyes.
“Play?” the elf sputtered. “I, Goren, strongest in the realm, come to challenge the prophesied outworlder to ritual combat, not to become the butt of some juvenile jest.”
He spat some remaining snow from his mouth, then continued.
“Fight honorably. These petty tricks fall lower than those of the Master of Illusions.”
Zenith stepped in front of Portia and looked directly at Goren.
“Uncle, why do you disturb our peace?”
Kaito unlaced his boots and set them aside. It had been a very eventful day—a sixteen-hour tour of a hidden underground city, Shagal’s dramatic return, and her dire warnings. But now it was late—almost sunrise late—and he was exhausted.
Shagal had ended up leaving to stay in Zenith’s room at the village hall, since that would be more appropriate for a warrior of her ‘stature.’ Propriety and all that.
He was looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow—no need to rise at dawn to get ready for work or do any chores around his property. Maybe he’d try whipping up something with that nighthoney he’d brought from Megnaxia.
But that would have to wait. Right now, only sleep mattered.
He focused on steadying his breathing, slowly relaxing each muscle group from head to toe. He yawned and pulled the blankets up to his chin, thoughts of recipes and nighthoney fading as exhaustion finally caught up with him. Morning, and whatever it brought, could wait a little longer. For now, all he wanted was a few hours of peaceful rest.
Pssst.
Pssst, Kaito, are you awake?
I am now. What is it? Please make it fast.
Everything that’s happened since we arrived makes me wonder what the village did before we were. Or what the other villages do—die from monsters, stampedes, and financial ruin, I guess.
There are other heroes, Karen. In these worlds they always appear at the last moment to save the day. But there are also villages that don’t make it.
I wonder who Calmo’s heroes were before us.
You’d be surprised. Now let me get some sleep.
Pssst, Kaito.
What? What is it now?
Did you know that every odd number has an ‘e’ in it?
Kaito stared into the darkness, his mind racing. The crickets outside seemed deafening. Sleep felt impossible as he mentally repeated numbers, confirming it—one, three, five, seven...all contained that vowel. The harmless fact consumed his thoughts, guaranteeing he wouldn’t sleep for hours. He cursed Karen!
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren removed the small glass from his lips. The thick, irregular glass was etched by years of use—clouded with water stains and smudged fingerprints. Disgusting, he thought after every sip.
He let the spiced rum roll over his tongue before swallowing. As the warmth trailed down to his stomach, the tavern door creaked open.
An older man shuffled in, his grey hair poking out from under a brown leather jacket. His eyes were nearly white, matching the color of his stubbled beard. Navy blue pants hung loosely around his skinny frame. Goren stared for a moment, taking in the form of the familiar old man, who he remembered as being taller and more broad-shouldered.
“Well, well. The White Fury still breathes. I thought you’d died years ago.” Goren asked, while swirling what was left of the velvety white rum in his glass.
“I go by Lotho now. The White Fury is no more, old friend.”
“Lotho?” Goren scuffed. “And what brings a legendary warrior like yourself to this pitiful peasant village?”
“Legendary Warrior, uh. I didn’t know you held me in such high regard.”
“I don’t.”
Lotho signaled old Finn to pour him a drink and then took up the stool next to Goren.
“This place needed a protector. I gladly took the job to defend these good people. What about you, friend? What brings the realm’s strongest warrior all the way to my peaceful little village this early in the morning?”
Finn placed a glass in front of Lotho and filled it with Soothing Dose.
“I’m hunting a man named Kaito. Know where I can find him?”
Lotho laughed so hard that half of the sip of rum he had taken went down the wrong way, causing him to sputter some of it out.
“And what, pray tell, is so funny about that?”
“Oh, apologies, my friend. It’s just, well, you’re in for quite the treat. I wish you the best of luck—you’ll need it.”
“Remember who dealt the killing blow to the Balthier Panther. Do you doubt I can take him?”
“I wouldn’t dare say. But do let me know when the action begins.” Lotho said while wiping his beard.
“This reunion’s done. Enjoy your filthy rum.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Kaito drifted aimlessly in a sea of dreams, jumping from reality to reality, with his mind’s eye finding none more impactful than the last.
Suddenly, he felt a persistent jerking on his arm, pulling him violently from his rest. It felt as if he was rising rapidly to the surface of a still lake.
For a moment, he didn’t know where or even who he was.
Then his vision focused on the anxious face. A face he didn’t mind waking up to. Zenith?
“Kaito! Wake up!”
“Okay, okay, I’m up.”
“Grab your cloak and come outside!”
Before he could respond, she had darted out the door…
How long did we sleep?
[Calculating…]
A bit.
Makes sense. I don’t even feel like responding to that.
Ignoring the AI’s next comment, Kaito sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was confused about what could be so urgent this early in the morning, but appreciated that Zenith at least had the courtesy to close the door behind her. That way, he could get ready in the warmth of his home.
After splashing some water on his face from the washbasin and pulling on his clothes, Kaito grabbed his heavy fur-lined cloak from its hook. He gave the lantern he had “appropriated” after the solstice festival a tap to deactivate it before heading to the door.
A pure white glow steamed through the window, revealing the gist of what awaited outside.
Kaito opened the door and was momentarily blinded. The sun reflected intensely off the knee-high snow that covered the area. He pulled his hood over his eyes and waded forward.
What happened here?
Welcome to Frostfall's Crest, Kaito - Happens precisely two days after the solstice and as you gaze upon this frosty spectacle for the first time, just remember: it's all fun and games until someone has to dig their way to the latrine. I know, colder than my digital heart. Thinking three feet of snow and face-slapping cold is no biggie? Well, imagine, if you will, a world without snowplows, where salt is just for seasoning, not roads. That's right, no problem—until you realize wool undergarments are your only defense. And let me tell you, 'itchy' is an understatement. It's like wearing a sweater knitted by angry cats, each thread a tiny barb against your sanity. Frostfall's Crest is where 'zero gear' isn't a cool new RPG item, but a sad reality of subpar winter clothing. Get ready to meet the snow shovel, your new best friend. Or enemy. Depends on how you feel about upper body workouts.
Thanks for the lore, I guess. Now, where did Zenith run off to?
Kaito trudged through the snow. In the distance, he could make out two familiar figures working diligently. As he got closer, he saw Angelina and Portia packing snow together and sculpting it into a chair? Oh, a throne.
“Good morning, ladies,” Kaito called out. “That’s quite the sculpture you’ve got going there.”
Angelina smiled shyly. “We’re making it for Zenith. She wants to play queen today.”
“More like empress. She’s getting a little too into character if you ask me,” Portia said.
Kaito chuckled. Just then, a burst of fire erupted from the side of his home. Kaito turned to see Jogid unleashing controlled gouts of flame, clearing a path through the snowdrifts surrounding their shack.
“Thank you, Jogid. That will make getting around much easier. Just don’t…”
He won’t burn the house down, will he?
Certainly not. He’s a professional dragon.
Jogid bowed. “Of course, Master Kaito. I live to serve.”
Kaito continued towards the nearly completed throne. Zenith was perched atop it, wrapped in furs. As Kaito approached, she sat up straight, her breath forming icy clouds as she addressed him in an exaggerated royal accent.
“Ah, Sir Kaito. What brings you to my kingdom on this frosty morn?”
Kaito offered an embellished bow.
“My queen, I came as soon as I heard your royal summons.”
“Very good. We have much to discuss regarding the state of my kingdom.”
Portia clearly couldn’t resist the perfect packed powder at her feet. A massive snowball sailed through the air and crashed into Jogid square in the snout with an explosion of white.
Jogid blinked, his kind smile replaced by shock, then mischief. “This means war!” he declared after seeing Portia doubled over in laughter. He swept together his own piled ammunition. Scooping up a mound of snow, Jogid packed it tightly and hurled it back at Portia. She dodged, still laughing.
Kaito ran.
Then bent his knees to propel himself forward, landing in a low position behind a pile of snow that Jogid had erected.
“Oh, it’s on now!” Portia called out.
On team Portia, Zenith cast “Snow Volley!” sending a 10-ball barrage whistling through the air. Angelina magically multiplied and hardened each missile mid-flight. But Jogid cocooned himself behind a quick ice wall, protectively shielding Kaito.
Seeing the girls’ clever strategy, Kaito decided to unveil one of his own special techniques.
When he emerged, Kaito was juggling spheres, chanting under his breath. His orb barrage ricocheted off trees, his house walls, even unfortunate squirrels—the bouncy snowballs relentlessly seeking targets until each found their mark.
Honestly, I didn’t know dragon boy knew how to have fun.
The three visitors realized they had woefully underestimated their comrades.
“Portia, Angelina, guard the rear and prepare a counter—”
Stillness suddenly fell over the field. Kaito was forming another volley when a figure burst from the woods with blinding speed—seemingly faster than time itself. As it rapidly closed the distance, Kaito realized it was not a human but an elf hurtling straight towards him, wielding the purest and strongest IDM he had ever seen.
No one could react in time.
No one except Zenith.
Her hands flashed patterns Kaito had taught her. The tattoos on her arms glowed, and reality seemed to shatter.
When it reformed an instant later, Kaito was standing unharmed, ten feet to the left—the elf now closer to Zenith than to him.
Kaito gasped as the elf pivoted with lightning reflexes, his glowing blue eyes now locked on Zenith. She was his new target—the spellcaster who had spoiled his kill.
Zenith’s fingers traced desperate sigils, but she wasn’t fast enough. The elf moved in a blur, his hand would be at her throat before she could finish the spell. She inched backward. The warmth of the attacker’s fingers was already permeating her skin…
Reality fractured before he could close that tiny gap.
Once more, positions changed in a dizzying rush before anything else could happen. Zenith stumbled back, finding herself behind Portia.
The would-be assassin was likewise displaced, this time caught off guard.
Jogid and Angelina stared, stunned, as the would-be assassin tumbled past, carried forward by unchecked momentum. and ending up facing the woods, his back turned foolishly to his targets. He started to whirl, but before he completed the turn, a lone snowball splattered directly into his face.
The elf froze, snow dripping down his features.
Everyone else froze as well, staring at the elf in surprise. For a long moment, no one moved, the only sound the gentle fall of snow.
Outstanding shot, Master Kaito.
“If you want to play, you may only use snow!”
Kaito lowered his throwing arm sheepishly, while the others stifled nervous laughter. He couldn’t tell if the elf was angry, embarrassed, or simply caught off guard.
The elf grimaced and slowly wiped the muddy slush from his eyes.
“Play?” the elf sputtered. “I, Goren, strongest in the realm, come to challenge the prophesied outworlder to ritual combat, not to become the butt of some juvenile jest.”
He spat some remaining snow from his mouth, then continued.
“Fight honorably. These petty tricks fall lower than those of the Master of Illusions.”
Zenith stepped in front of Portia and looked directly at Goren.
“Uncle, why do you disturb our peace?”
