Chapter 2: Cold

Nine years. Nine years, he lived in that empty den. Once in awhile, though, a stray mob would wander in. Unlike his cruel kin, he did not chase them away. Often, they were gone in a few days, and once again he was left alone.

Eshoel, fully grown now, found himself not as lonely as before. Not because of the occasional company, but because his soft heart had grown cold.

xxx

It was late Winter now. Eshoel rarely left the den. Only a few blocks underground, the frigid air seeped in from the entrance. The Ender shuddered, curling up in the warmest spot he could find.

Somewhere, deep inside, Eshoel felt the pang of loneliness return. Quickly, he suppressed it, knowing that would only make the Winter nights longer.

xxx

The next day he ventured out of the den. He had not eaten nearly enough in Autumn to last through the cold season. Food was scarce in this part of the forest. Nevertheless, he somehow made it nine Winters. However, Eshoel feared this might be his last.

There was no food among the frosty leaves. The mushrooms had all died, and the small game was either hibernating or gone to warmer lands.

Food. He needed food.

xxx

Eshoel wandered farther from the den. Picking up a scent, he followed it South for a ways.

It was a strange smell. One he had not come across before. Similar to Ender-scent, but at the same time much different. As he came closer he could distinguish different scents: cut wood, animals, and the faintest hint of smoke. There were food smells, too―which made the Ender forget to be cautious.

Meat. There was meat cooking. And carrots, potatoes, mushrooms… and a sweet, spiced smell Eshoel couldn't quite place. Determined to find out where it was coming from, he crept out of the cover of the woods.

What he found was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Huge logs were planted upright, making the corners of a wooden structure. It looked like a small mountain, with holes in its sides that made the Ender think of caves. Light that was not sunlight came from the cave-holes. There were sounds of life within.

Eshoel tilted his head, bewildered. Having lived his entire life in the remote depths of the woods, he had never seen a thing like the wood-mountain before him. His instinct told him to run away. New and unusual things like this must be bad.

But his heart stirred. A bit of the cold shell he had built around it had given way. The curiosity of his youth crept back, urging him to investigate.

For the first time in a long time, he did as it said.

Up close, the wood-mountain was even stranger. On the front face, there was a small outcropping that sheltered another cave-hole. Though this one was smaller than the others, and blocked by a wood panel.

Eshoel walked around the side, finding more cave-holes of different sizes. Seeing them closer, he realized that the holes were filled with thin, clear panes like ice―yet they were warm to the touch.

While the warm ice was intriguing, Eshoel was more interested in finding food. And, even more than that, finding what sort of creatures lived in the wood-mountain.

Coming around the East face, Eshoel stopped. Through one of the cave-holes, he saw them.

They looked like Enders, but much smaller and lighter in color. From what he could tell, there was a male and a female. Mates, perhaps?

Neither of them saw the Ender through the cave-hole. Eshoel watched in silence, curious as to what they were doing.

The male was sitting on a strangely shaped stump. The female went to him, carrying something that might have been food. She handed it to him. The male seemed pleased, taking a bite.

Eshoel stared, wide-eyed and hungry. The sweet smell had returned, and now he could see where it came from. The male ate, and the female watched for a moment. Then, as she started to turn away, she froze.

She was looking at him.

Eshoel felt a growl rise in his throat―though he was more panicked than angered. She kept looking at him, batting the male with one hand. He looked up, too.

Eshoel teleported.

xxx

The Ender's heart raced as he teleported as far away as possible. What had he been thinking? He should have run when he had the chance.

He started towards the den, or where he thought the den should be. The night was ending.

Where was the den?

It was as the sun was rising that Eshoel realized he was hopelessly lost.

He had ventured to a strange place, foolishly curious. Now he was lost, far from home, and still hungry.

Even as the sun came up to warm the earth, Eshoel felt cold. A new layer of frost covered the leaves―and his heart.

No more wandering. No more curiosity. He had to stay cold, to protect his soft heart.

Cold.

So, so very cold…