"A southern wind came to me..."

Sunset in the snow-plains was magnificent. Though Jeuni could not track the sun in the pure white sky, the landscape around him grew darker as it set, the eastern faces of every snow-covered knoll blackening together. He was able to count days like this. He saw one go by, and then another, and the three travelers pressed on southward.

The pain in Jeuni's left arm intensified with time, every so often spiking to such levels that he would fall to his knees and whimper. Kihara would kneel by his side, rub his back, and rest her forehead against the juggler's bandages. She would mumble some incoherent syllables—Jeuni never bothered to ask whether they were gibberish said sweetly to soothe him, or invocations for her pseudo-mending—and gradually the pain would recede slightly.

She always apologized:

"I'm sorry, Master Huros, that this is the best I can do. My power is a pale imitation of true magic."

She was pale, her skin as white as her coat and the snow and the sky, the only rosiness to her in her crimson eyes.

Jeuni would laugh, hoping he didn't sound too bitter.

"There's something wrong with my arm, isn't there?" he'd ask.

"Aftershocks, Master Huros, lingering pain resulting from the manner in which I treated your wound, but nothing more. The healing process is coming along well."

By the fourth day after Jeuni first woke up in the snow-plains, Kihara could no longer calm the agony he felt. He clenched his teeth as hard he could, clamped his right hand down over the bandaged wound, pushed Kihara aside and flailed about in the soothingly cold snow.

"Master Huros," said the giant, "perhaps a story would take your mind off the discomfort."

Kihara nodded encouragingly, and Jeuni's pained grunts were interpreted as a 'yes.'

The giant sat down next to the juggler and began speaking. The words rolled slowly off his tongue, each one sonorous, waterfalling in slow motion, inundating Jeuni in a stream of viscous sound.

"Where to begin? ... perhaps with the beginning of Byhr. Fifty-one years ago, a group of southern tribespeople encountered the First Holder of the Covenant. Under his command, they took up arms and moved north, passing beyond the snows and into the forests of what is now southern Byhr..."

Jeuni was vaguely aware of the giant scooping him up and slinging him over his shoulder as he spoke. Between rapidly narrowing eyelids, the juggler could see footprints moving away from the giant's back. Kihara hopped from one footprint to the next, moving forward but never closer. Jeuni thought there was something weird about the scene, and then he was asleep.

* * *

In his dreams, Jeuni saw epic battles speed by between a small host of injured men wearing rags of white fur and armies of hundreds upon hundreds of uniformed soldiers. Hordes of horsemen wearing black and blue spilled across hills, each wave shattering against the ever-regenerating barrier of white-clad warriors. Whenever one man in the group went down, he would stand back up, bones and weapons reforming. With every onslaught, the band lost more flesh and more fur; with every onslaught, the band grew more and more ghastly; with every onslaught, the band grew more and more resilient. More and more horsemen died between every resurrection, and before long, there were none left.

Archers clad in red and gold peppered the band with arrows, accomplishing nothing; they too were wiped out.

One man stood alone behind the ragged bone warriors, not participating in the fight. He wore a golden wolf's mask, and carried in his right hand a spearstaff decorated with iridescent feathers. His garb was ordinary for winter in the eastern region—coat and breeches of simple brown wool.

Jeuni watched as living men flocked to the banner of the skeletons, forming massive armies and blanketing the land with green flags. Byhr's symbol soon flew over every town in the central Midlands, and it loomed menacingly over the western woods, the eastern hills, the northern mountains.

* * *

Jeuni opened his eyes. Footprints continued to flow away from him as the landscape passed by under the giant's feet. The first thing Jeuni noticed was that he couldn't feel the pain in his arm.

"I'm all better," he tried to say. Kihara, still walking behind the giant, stopped walking, eyes widening in horror.

Jeuni's heart sank.

"What now?"

"Oh no, Jeuni, no," said Kihara, running to catch up to the giant. "King, stop moving, let him down."

Jeuni?

Jeuni found himself delicately placed on his feet. He stood, pain-free, wondering why the giant looked so worried, why the girl looked like she was about to cry.

"Seriously, you two—"

Kihara shook her head, and Jeuni closed his mouth. That didn't sound like my voice...

And this doesn't feel like my body.

The juggler tried to take a step toward his companions and found himself sprawling face-down in the snow. And this doesn't feel like the ground.

What the piss?

Kihara knelt by him and put her hands on his shoulders, but she didn't reach him. She mumbled something under her breath, something anxious and panicked, but he couldn't hear it. Having turned his head to what should have been a painful angle, he could see her lips moving. But there was no pseudo-mending happening.

I'm not in pain, Kihara—

I'm not suffering, Kihara—

But I can't go on.

Kihara nodded, bit her lip, said something unintelligible, and soon Jeuni found himself on the giant's shoulder once more, limbs limply dangling as he was carried through the snow.

As though his head were submerged in water, garbled bits of sound reached Jeuni as the giant continued telling him about the history of the Midlands. Trying to make out the sentences was so grueling and futile that Jeuni quickly began trying instead to lose consciousness.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the endless snow-plains, marred only by the giant's footprints, and he lost track of whether or not he was asleep.

* * *

The scene Jeuni saw was as broken as the lantern that cast light on it. There were beds—three beds, one of which was also broken, a pile of rent wood and torn fabric—and there were people. Two people, lying on one of the beds. Jeuni was one of the two.

The other was crying silently.

Their lips were locked.

Were he to break his lips away from the other's, he was sure that the the room would shatter with two equally powerful screams. He wanted to yell, he wanted to cry, just like the person he held against the bed. He knew that if he removed his lips, the cries would bring in the outside world and the door would open.

The hunters would smell blood; they would find him. He would die.

He didn't want to die.

But he knew that if he kept his lips where they were, he would not be able to stop.

And that would be similar to dying.

The sepia glow of the room drew him in and he pressed forward. Love! He loved, so it was fine—he loved, so it should feel good—but all he felt was anguish. Jeuni shed no tears. The one below him was crying for them both, rivulets streaming down her cheeks and pooling on the dirty sheets.

He was hurting her.

Jeuni wanted to throw up.

* * *

Jeuni woke up sure that he must be sweating profusely. The sky was dark, the land unmoving. The giant lay sprawled nearby, a huge pile of cloak and fresh snow. Kihara was awake, worried face illuminated by a small orb of light.

Jeuni...

Kihara?

Kihara leaned closer.

You must have seen something horrible.

Jeuni blinked; the world remained black for so many agonizing seconds that he feared he'd never see again.

A nightmare... a horrible nightmare. Horrible, but just a dream.

Kihara smiled sadly.

Jeuni...

Kihara?

Yes?

Why am I here?

Because you need to get there.

Kihara pointed into the distance. Jeuni couldn't adjust his position to see what she was pointing at, but he somehow knew that it was the direction south.

What's over there? The beast-man said I'd understand everything if I made it to the South, but all I've learned is that the Shaded Orchard doesn't exist. I can't feel the cold, I can't speak, I can't walk; I can barely process my own thoughts.

Kihara sat wordlessly, silently running her fingers through the juggler's hair.

Kihara?

I'm sorry, Jeuni.

Jeuni blinked again, and again, his eyelids growing heavier with every second he waited for a reply. Eventually he drifted off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

* * *

When Jeuni was next aware of being awake, he was sitting cross-legged on something that looked like snow but seemed much less pliable. The sky was clear and the sun hung low overhead. The giant sat in a similar position to his left, Kihara to his right.

Trying to discern any landmarks, Jeuni surveyed the area, but all he saw was a flat expanse of grayish white.

As the juggler was trying to figure out why he and his companions were seated so peculiarly, a sudden blast of wind rocketed across the landscape and sent him flying backwards. In midair, he felt his muscles loosen, his ears pop, his jaws unlock, his skin melt, and he landed on his feet, numb no longer.

"What the—"

Before Master Jeuni Huros could finish his thought, the wind blew by again and the brittle ground at his feet cracked. He could feel the cold, a cold to end all colds. Jeuni couldn't move. His bones had become shards of ice.

And then, just as suddenly as he'd been frozen, he was thawed.

The pain in his left arm returned, cramps and aches throughout his body manifested, and the first words he'd heard in what felt like ages penetrated his ears.

"He's strong," came a voice, neither that of the giant nor that of the girl. "I like that. But introductions and judgments can both wait. First, Herald. Do you have news for me?" The voice was a whisper, a chill rasp.

"Your Seventeenth is gone," spoke the giant. "And the Thirty-third and I have each died twice since you last spoke to us."

"So Ynthon is gone?" asked the wind.

"Indeed."

"The one who killed him?"

"Master Jeuni Huros."

The Master Jeuni Huros in question had nothing to say on the topic. He was too chilled, too perplexed. While it was true that the Holders had powers outside of what regularly passed for magic, and that these powers might be mistaken for something divine, he had no experience dealing with deities. He had been shocked enough to find takers of the infamous covenant appearing in his life. He had never seriously considered that their beliefs might be grounded in more than superstition. Now here he was, experiencing what could only be a communion between the Holders and their god.

And it's just a bit of wind!

"This piddling miniature wizard?" the wind asked.

Wind that can talk, yes, but it's still just wind!

"Indeed," responded the giant. "Following your orders led me directly to this man."

Speaking of 'just wind,' how d'you address the wind? Mister Beast-man and Kihara aren't even facing the same direction, just sitting there with their eyes closed! Some god—faceless, without a location...

"Very well. So this is the so-called juggler, then. Jeuni Huros. Jeuni Huros. Hmm. A juggler."

"Excuse me," said Jeuni, frowning as he gingerly stepped closer to his companions, "but would someone mind explaining to me what's going on?"

"You're in the presence of the god," said Kihara.

"I kind of gathered that."

"And I can move again?"

"Seems so," said the giant.

"Which means I couldn't move before."

Kihara seemed to shrink.

"What the hell happened to me, guys?"

"Why is Jeuni Huros poisoned?" asked the wind.

Poisoned?

"The last movement conducted by the Seventeenth," answered the giant. "He took control of us in our sleep and had me stab the wizard with my blade."

"So your sword was poisoned?" Jeuni sighed. "And it poisoned me?" It all made sense. "But why did you hide it from me?" He took a deep breath, then spun his arms around and did a pirouette. "Well, all's well that ends well. I seem to be paralyzed no longer."

"Jeuni," said Kihara, her voice faint, "you have approximately one week left to live."

Jeuni froze in place, arms extended and one foot raised.

"One week is enough," sighed the giant, reluctantly. "I didn't want to lie to you, Master Huros, but my orders had nothing to do with ensuring your survival. Kihara and I both wanted to make sure you didn't run away from this journey. Our orders demanded it."

"Speaking of which," said Kihara, speaking more firmly, "you gave us conflicting orders."

"Did I?" asked the wind.

The giant cursed under his breath.

"I feared that might be the case," he said. "We both managed to bring you Jeuni Huros, so the rest is up to you."

The wind laughed, a high-pitched droning laugh.

"So, Jeuni Huros's impending death is completely incidental," said the wind. "And at least one of you will have failed me if the poison kills him."

Jeuni slowly took in what was being said, mind clicking along at an ant's march. His body gradually unwound itself and he took a seat in between his traveling companions. Death. Wasn't I ready for death when I decided to head south?

Wasn't I ready for death when I decided to follow Kihara?

"My orders were never to kill you," said Kihara.

The wind laughed again.

"Thirty-third, you know your new orders."

Kihara nodded.

"Jeuni, let's go," she said, standing. "Back home. They have menders there, menders with real healing magic. We'll get you cured, and—"

"You want me to just turn around now?" Jeuni felt his expression distort under the pressure of confusion. "We're going back? Will we even make it in time? How can I trust you? How can I follow you? Why am I listening to your stupid bit of wind?"

"We can make it in time with the wind's blessing," said Kihara.

"No way am I taking your miserable contract," the juggler spat. He was indignant. It was all so meaningless. If I don't make it back, my death is incidental. If I make it back, I'm stuck in Byhr.

"I wasn't suggesting that you become a Holder! The wind's power—"

"I suggest you take this 'wind' of yours and shove it," replied Jeuni. "God, wind, wind, god, covenant, Holder, horseshit. How long has it been since I was able to move? To speak? To feel the cold breeze? And now that breeze is your dark god and he wants to play with me longer. Wasn't Byhr enough?" He turned from his companions and addressed the sky. "You have your holy land, you monster! What more do you want?!"

The giant exhaled heavily.

"You don't have to go back, Master Huros—I'm more than happy if you stay, in fact, as my orders can be resolved more quickly that way. And I think you'd be happy to oblige—"

"Herald," the wind cautioned the giant, "you'll fail if he cannot succeed in his task before his death."

"I have faith in his power."

"Hey, King," said Kihara, "I'm happy that you're so optimistic, but I'm going to follow my orders until my bond with the wind is destroyed."

"Kihara—"

"Light of the South, beams of desolation—"

"—this isn't necessary, Kihara!"

Jeuni looked on in shocked impassivity as the sunlight reflecting off the white ground became solid lances and transfixed the giant. Blood flowed freely from a dozen wounds as the spears of light dissipated and the giant rolled onto his side.

"Impetuous as ever, Thirty-third," said the wind, "but I'll ask you not to go any further. Take my blessing; go quickly back to Byhr. Have this wizard's poison purged, and come back with him when he is hale once more."

"It shall be done."

She stepped up to Jeuni and put a hand on his shoulder. He could feel the blood racing through his veins like a howling winter wind, and his body ached to be running.

"Jeuni Huros." The wind addressed Jeuni and the juggler could feel it threatening to freeze him in place once more.

"Yes?"

"You are an interesting man, Jeuni Huros. I set my sights on you for two reasons. One is what you have done, the other what you might yet do. You seem to overestimate my attachment to Byhr; it is merely the creation of one of my heroes. I hold nothing against you for your crimes against the state. However—you have sinned, and you will be judged."

I'll be judged?

"And I will die."

Kihara said her orders weren't to kill me—she must not have known what the sentence would be.That makes sense, I suppose, though I don't remember what I did.

"That is up to you, Jeuni Huros, that is up to you. I look forward to your next visit."

"I have no choice in any of this, do I?"

"You could try killing the Thirty-third with your magic."

Jeuni shook his head and chuckled. Never again.

"If you don't stop her, I doubt anything will. She seems bent upon fulfilling her orders."

Kihara took Jeuni's right hand in her left and pointed in a direction that Jeuni had to guess was north. The girl's hand was hot in the chill southern air; her skin felt silky smooth to Jeuni after days of numb paralysis. The thought occurred to him that he didn't want to let go.

"The wind is at our backs," she said. "We will now depart the tundra of the god."

The roaring of the wind inside Jeuni's body drowned out his thoughts. The last thing he noticed before he lost all perception was that the landscape had turned into a white streak.