The blizzard came down from overhead, plunging from the perfectly white sky with the force of an ocean wave. It knocked Sentar to his knees, and he felt a sudden calm descend on him. It would end here, he knew.
Even so, the thought of the weight on his shoulders spurred him on.
"My brothers!" Sentar screamed.
He tried to rise, but the wind pushed him down. He knew from bitter experience that the blizzards could last for days. The shortest would persist for hours.
Sentar lifted his chin and looked into the white, determined to face his death with eyes open.
And then, moments after it arrived, the blizzard was gone.
The sky was still white, but a small patch of blue appeared. The patch grew, and with it Sentar's vision became clear. It was late in the day, he now realised, rapidly descending to night. He could see his hands, and then the clumps of snow in front of him, and then could see further, to a pathway — no, a road — lined with markers of grey stone. As more of the landscape was revealed, Sentar looked farther still.
He suddenly knew he'd made it.
Two tall towers thrust out of the ground ahead, so pure of colour they were almost blue. Each tower was topped with a ring of spikes, wider than the tower's base, like the crown of a monarch. The towers were made of ice, and the road passed between them.
Sentar took a deep breath and with an effort of will brought himself back to his feet. The first step he took was more of a stagger, and the second little better. Walking was agony until he reached the marked road, and then the packed snow under his feet was a blessed relief. As he finally passed through the towers Sentar saw the name of the city announced, with one word on each tower: Ku Kara.
It wasn't a walled city; the cold was protection enough for the Akari. Nor were the streets narrow and winding; there was space enough to build big. As Sentar walked he saw broad avenues, uniformly marked by short pillars of grey stone. The single-storied buildings were all made of ice, with heavy doors of dark wood and windows the size of a man's hand.
Sentar staggered through Ku Kara in a daze. This city hadn't existed when he and his brothers had ruled Merralya. The Akari had been his people, and now they had built a home of their own. He had thought Seranthia to be an aberration. How could mere humans build such a city? But with all he'd seen he now knew. The humans had grown from childhood to adolescence.
With a shake of his head, he stopped. He was Sentar Scythran, the Lord of the Night. He had ruled this world, and he had survived Shar. The lines of resolve in his mouth and forehead returned. He would rule again.
Sentar scanned the street and scratched his chin in thought. A few houses along, at a dwelling larger than the others, a withered tree made of silver wire decorated a front door. Some things may have changed, but Sentar knew that symbol.
Reaching the house, he stood in front of the door. Sentar pounded at the wood. Moments later he nodded with satisfaction when a man in a grey robe opened the door.
"Who are you?" the robed man asked, his brow furrowed with suspicion. "You are not one of us. What are you doing here?"
The robed man wore his black hair close-cropped, like an animal's pelt. His face and hands were fine-boned and delicate, and his high forehead suggested intelligence. He wore a necklace of bones around his neck, and his robe bore a matching symbol to that on the door.
"Surely you know me," Sentar said. He raised a wrist and brushed the snow off a device of worked silver he wore at his cuff. The withered tree was a match to the symbol on the door. "You wear my symbol on your robe. You bear my mark on your dwelling. Let me in from this cold, and I will show you who I am."
Sentar pushed past the nonplussed man in grey robes. The warmth from the interior hit him with such force that he could have wept, and the contents of the man's house were suddenly irrelevant as Sentar was drawn to the red embers of the hearth. It wasn't until he had removed his gloves and felt the blood return tingling to his limbs that Sentar turned back to the robed man and took note of his surroundings.
The house was larger than it had appeared from the outside. The floor was made of wide planks of the same dark wood as the door, with soft animal furs covering its surface. A human skeleton stood in the corner, teeth bared in a permanent smile, and from the workbench and bookshelves Sentar could see this place was dedicated to work rather than leisure. The robed man had closed the door and was frowning at his unwelcome guest.
Walking around slowly, Sentar passed a bronze mirror, and seeing himself he grimaced. "I will admit I have recently been a victim of circumstances and do not look my best. You can be forgiven for not knowing me. This time."
Sentar pulled his hood back and unclasped the cloak, letting it fall to the floor. He brushed his elegant clothing of black velvet, ignoring the scattering of snow and ice that fell to the ground. He straightened his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair.
Finally, Sentar rested his eyes on the other man. "What is your name?"
"I am Renrik. And you are?"
"From your garb you are one of the chosen, are you not?"