Marco

My hands hurt, my legs hurt, the damn hounds were exhausted, and all the men were pissed. Well most of them at least. The wizard, one of the higher ups from back home in Ice's End, the once free city, seemed more or less unbothered.

"Sir, we can't keep up like this. From what you'd told us we should have run the girl to ground in the first couple days, but it's been nearly a week and a half. We don't have supplies, and the men are starting to lose their discipline," I explained, for not the first time.

"Then return it to them, that is your job is it not?" Rooke, their oft unpleasant leader said. "Our scouts have seen a few flashes that could have been her, and we're still on the trail, that girl must be captured."

"Because of the teleportation?" I asked. I was no mage, but it seemed like a big deal.

"No, because if she makes it back to civilization and her little empire she'll bring the whole of it down upon us. We may be strong but they'll level the city."

"Sir," I tried. "That girl's going up the Glacial Mountains, chances are she'll die before she gets anywhere near civilized lands, caster or no."

"You don't know her like I do. Get the men, get the hounds, and continue." His tone told me that we were done for now, but nobody was gonna like it.

I returned to the other huntsmen. Most of the hunters in the city had been pulled for this mission, and as the informal leader of most of the parties sent out onto the tundra and hills I'd been elected spokesman. Honestly I'd have prefferred it if literally anyone else had been chosen to deal with the damn magic users.

"What'd they say?" Asked Jacob, one of my cousins.

"What do you think?" I responded, to several sighs.

"We'll have to stop soon, regardless what they want," old man Jenkins observed, rubbing his hand. It was an old injury, broken during one of his many trips out of the city.

"Storm coming old timer?' Everyone worth their weight knew that old folks had a line on the weather.

"Aye, two days, three at most, and a nasty one it'll be if we get much deeper into the mountains."

"Don't know about you lot, but I've no want to look for some runaway lass in the middle of a blizzard," one of the other men said, trying to get his hounds back up for the morning. The dogs seemed less than interested in the idea.

"Me neither, but you try to turn back and head home and that wizard might cook you where you stand, we all know how they did the folk that tried to resist them taking over."

It had been a very sore spot. Lady Astrid, now 'Queen' Astrid had been popular, even if some women had complained about the number o wives her father had. As for old Lord Knud... he'd been good at running things, and fair regardless of his faults.

Nobody had believed that the previous ruler had died in his sleep, and that his daughter had 'decided' to marry this prince from far off was also dubious. Those that had tried to fight back though had been dealt with both quickly and with extreme prejudice. When the fighters had fallen their homes were even destroyed or taken, leaving their families to the winter without stores or shelter.

Some had taken them in, when they thought they could get away with it. Marco himself had a niece who'd been slipped into his house under the guise of another daughter, at least as far as anyone else was concerned. But when the snows had melted more than one body had been found buried over the long cold season. There was an 'understanding' between the common folk and the invaders after that, the newcomers ruled, but didn't really care what the commoners did, while the commoners kept the peace and acted like good little servants.

After a few more minutes the men were ready once again. "Alright lads, let's see if we can finish this up and get home," Marco said as they got back on the trail, knowing they'd lose it another half dozen or so times today.

My persuers were... driven. I'd been running and hiding for days now, taking them up hills and doubling back, crossing a few small streams. It didn't seem to bother them, and hardly slowed them down. I had no doubt that in an open fight I'd lose, they'd decidedly brought enough people to take me down, but as the hills turned to small cliffs my options opened.

I was considering, traps and indirect forms of combat would work, and work well, but might expose me. Simply teleporting up and down and along cliffs would slow them a lot though, and maybe get me further out then they could track. The former would more significantly impar, the latter might not work or take too much time to bear fruit.

I frowned, deciding to take a mix of the two. If I found something I could drop or the like on them I would, but until then I'd just have to make these men hate their lives. Regardless the rougher the terrain got, the easier a campaign of attrition would become.

I took a break after finding a small cliff to pop up. From here I'd have a slightly better vantage, and good eyes on my trail.

"Damn," I sighed as I sat down, seeing my foot. "Guess you were made for being warm on stone floors, not hiking through wilderness, huh?"

I pulled the shoe off, examining the ripped seam. A small spell could fix that well enough, but the whole thing was beginning to wear down. I was glad, though I'd never admit it, that my mother's pressure had led to me learning a few sewing spells, as they were coming in dead useful repairing clothing that had never been designed for its current use.

No matter how you cut it I was in rough shape. It was cold, very cold, even if my guess was early autumn, and the altitude was making it worse. I dared not light a fire, which would give away my position as quickly as anything, and the nights had been bad. My items, such as they were, were falling apart, and so was my body. I was filthy, tired, and only healing had kept the blisters at bay.

Bread and cheese were also not an ideal diet for long periods. During my childhood I'd always been able to scrounge something up, or trade for it, but here I didn't know the plants, and didn't have time to stop. Short breaks between hikes to heal up and eat, or sleep as much as I could was all I was getting.

The only upside was that I could feel some of my spells getting easier. Teleporting like I was was doing wonders for the cost of that particular spell. Healing too, for while I'd known and practiced the basics for most of my life I was constantly fixing up small aches and pains that in civilization I might have ignored. Couldn't let stuff like that go out here in the wild though, or I'd be dead on my feet even sooner then it looked like I was on my way to.

I'd regrown some of my amputated arm, but that was slow going, and would have been even with access to proper priests. The nub was still sore, no matter what I did, and there was more than a bit of phantom pain. I wasn't sure what to do about that, other than get on fixing it.

The mountain range, whose name I'd yet to learn, went east south-east, and I'd have abandoned it had it not been a good way to push back on my persuers. From what I knew it had been more north to south at the coast, but this turn was not ideal. I didn't know where I was, but based on weather I was guessing south was where I wanted to head, if only to avoid the cold that seemed to be getting worse by the day.

No time for that though, not right now. I rose to continue my trek, and put as much distance between me and those maniacs as I could.

I ran along the cliff, portaled to one nearby, and then ran along a small ridge for nearly an hour. Most of my day was spent making my way along the edge of a valley and the one beyond it, keeping below the ice-capped mountain nearby.

As the sun began to set I found a small cave. These were all over the place, and while I'd had to rough it in little more than covers under fallen logs for the last few days decent shelter was very welcome. It even had a surprise for me, it was warm.

These 'mountains' must have been at least partially volcanic, because there was a small trickle coming from deeper in that was definitely a hot spring. Sadly it was nowhere near big enough for me to properly wash myself, and it was way too hot, but I'd take what small victories I could get. Even if the whole place had a funky, almost musky odor.

As I picked up a few nearby rushes to form a makeshift bed snow began to fall. That was unwelcome, as it would both make me easier to follow and be wholly unpleasant to hike through. There was nothing I could do but sigh though.

I ate dinner, same as it had been, and almost instantly fell asleep. Between mana use and just exertion I was always at least a little sleepy, and the pleasant warmth all around was unbelievably soothing compared to the chill I'd been saddled with for so long.

When I awoke it was with a start. It was pitch black and there was a powerful howling and chill wind. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep, but it couldn't have been all night, since the sun was still absent, not even the faintest hint of light showing.

It rankled on my ongoing desire to stay unseen, but eventually I made a small light. Looking toward the cave entrance I saw little other than a wall of white. The snow that had started had apparently built to a fever pitch. That storm bowling outside my little safe-zone was a monster, complete white-out conditions, something that would have made me stay inside for a week.

Could I go out into that mess and survive? Well, maybe, with my magic I could stay warm. If I did though I doubted I'd be able to navigate jack, and might get way off course, or even fall somewhere unpleasant. There was also no assurance that I'd ever find another shelter, much less one that could keep me warm like I was now.

"What about my hunters though?" I asked myself.

I nearly laughed as I thought about their situation. I was sure that they had at least a few magic users, either casters or physical, and I was guessing at least one bard to supply them. Would they be able to see me in this though? Absolutely not. What about following my trail? I honestly doubted those hounds could find their own tails if they went out in this, and they'd all freeze or use magic like water trying to keep going. Looks like mother nature had decided to give me a bit of rest.

Still smiling I turned to my shackle. I needed a tool, particularly a knife, and while working the metal would be a right pain with my current state I could stand to use just a bit of mana on this project. I used the same rusting trick I'd used to break it from its chain to remove it from my wrist finally, and then got to work.

I was having to ad-lib the spell here, as working metal wasn't my thing. It was possible though, if slow, and costly. Bit by bit I shaped the steel, pulling and twisting, trying to get something that even looked right. At home I'd have used tools and had a workable blade in only a few minutes, but this was a mess.

I took a few naps between work sessions, and watched as the opening of the cave went from pitch black to solid white, and now fading back with an almost golden tint. The ability to just relax a bit was doing me wonders, at least emotionally.

My blade was... well it was ugly, but it was sharp, and it had a handle... ish. My lack of experience was clear here, and I'd need to work on it more when I got the chance, but it was something.

The spell I had made to do this was a sort of mix of heat, kinetic force, and sort of imagining the metal to be like clay. It was messy, and I didn't like it, but when I'd started I was tired and probably not thinking my best. I looked at the result, trying to think of ways I might improve upon the magic.

As I sat there thinking I heard something approaching the cave loudly. A shadow formed in the otherwise blank whiteness, moving towards me. It was big, huge really, and decidedly non-human.

"Oh... crap," I said.