The Stranger: Rewritten.


Chapter 9.


I hadn't even remembered falling asleep, waking up with a quick gasp as I shook my head, trying to get the feeling of exhaustion off as I scanned the cave for the wolves, having made myself that much easier of a target by falling into my deep slumber, cursing myself for having done such a thing.

Looking for the wolf that had taken me captive and the rest of her pack within the walls of the cave, I discovered that it had been abandoned well before I had awoken, no signs of any of the wolfs I'd seen the night before to be found.

Now sure I could rest a bit easier, I stood up, no longer feeling the numbing pains of any of my injuries weighing me down any longer, brushing off the snow that had attached itself to my body.

Reaching up to my face, I ripped off a few patches of ice from my flesh as I stared at it, wondering how it had formed in the first place as the den had not been cold enough for ice like this to form.

Taking off all that I could I feel, I finally began to notice the condition my body was in, having taken a few seconds to realize it.

Looking at myself more clearly, I found that my wounds had healed, and no longer felt the crippling pain from the cold I had, warmth having returned to my body. Not just that, but I felt more strength and energy restored as well, smiling as I was back in fighting condition, stretching all of my body to test it, finding no issues in any of my movement's, no aches that would otherwise restrict me.

Whether or not the sleep had done this I was not sure, I could not explain the fully restored state I'd awoken too, only I could be glad I had awoken at all, especially at full strength.

For whatever the reason I still yet live and no longer helpless and in perfect condition, I was thankful for it, feeling a kind of strength I had not felt when I awoke on the beach, actually feeling even stronger.

Though if I would continue to live wasn't something I didn't like not knowing, looking outside the cave towards the clearing, the blizzard having stopped long ago, so no longer did it obstruct my view, and now that I was with sight once more that disadvantage was no more.

What awaited me outside would soon be known, and come heaven or hell, I would fight if it came to that all the same.

Though I could no longer be sure what the wolves intended to do with me, seeing as how they'd left me alone so far, I did not stop expecting to come into a fight with them, prepared for the pack if they sought to challenge me.

Walking out towards the cave's opening, I looked up into the sky as the sun shined brightly, taking away any fear I may have still had, stepping outside into what would either be a dangerous lot of beast that would prove difficult to face by my lonesome, or creatures of peace that I had misjudged. No matter what I may find at the end of this tunnel, I did so with courage, the sounds of the wolves just outside the cave.


Through the frozen forest far from their home, the four children born of the snow kingdom marched on, intent on seeing their mission accomplished, no matter how difficult the road before them seemed, or how strong the defense force appeared to be.

The only female member of their little band of soldiers looked up into the sky, the clouds that showered them with more snow than was welcomed having long since faded, looking towards the great mountains that surrounded the golden lake, the very place these four had been deployed too, the same place they would find the invaders seeking to claim land that they had no business stepping upon.

For the crimes these people had committed against her own, she could find no mercy to show, nor did she have any wish too, walking on with the hope of laying waste to their pathetic and futile attempts to challenge them in a game of land grab that had been played for far too long.

The only thing keeping her acts of murderous passion in check was the boy leading them, who she hoped to the gods he would see fit to show off their power, which the Golden Tongues had no hope of ever matching.

In her opinion, that is what they desperately needed to do, show to their enemies that Winter-Moor was not afraid to spill blood, yet he is what held her back, the only thing keeping her hand from their throat.

She fully trusted him as their leader, knowing that if she had her way, it would plunge her people into numerous wars that even they would have no way of fighting. Her only wish though was that he would let her off her very short leash more often, as she craved the heat of battle, and longed for the blood that would decorate her blade.

Though with this particular tribe, she expected an imminent fight was approaching, and so she readied to let out her feelings of hatred upon those that stood against them to release the building tension, ready to claim however many lives was necessary until the lesson had been learned, for she held an intense dislike for these savages Winter-Moor continued to have issues with.

And it was because of their bloodied history that she hoped today would be the final encounter before they put in an end to the campaign these thieves had begun in hopes of stealing from them pieces of territory would be brought to its prolonged end. Though looking into Xander's eyes, she could see within him a hope of ending this with as little bloodshed as possible, a normal hunger for battle replaced with feelings of exhaustion from this conflict, drawn out over the course of years, with no signs of peace anywhere in sight, something she could guess he was sick of waiting for.

It was this feeling she was able to pick up on that made her sure that the end of it was near, and that Xander would allow her to carve her way through to the peace he sought, for she knew he would one day find it.

Though the only way for peace to be possible, was if she destroyed the barriers that stood between him and it, which she would gladly do if he so wished it, but only if he could will it, for she could never forgive herself if she were to claim lives Xander himself was not comfortable with taking. Yet she would bare the burden of being cast into the role of the warmonger, the one those looked at with fear and disgust for their violent acts, for him, if it meant he could rest easier.

No matter how long it would take, no matter how many lives she need cut down, she would do so when Xander felt the time had come to claim the throne of Winter-Moor for himself, which she would help place him upon with a fucking smile on her face, for she knew that deep down, Xander desired this more than anything in the world, and when that day was upon them, she would see him take it, for she knew he not only wished peace for the land of never ending snowfall they called home, but for the rest of the world.

For her, to look upon this young man, was to see the kind of strength it would take to claim the lives of those that stood in his way, to do what needed to be done, and if not by his hands, then by hers. The kind of strength he would need to lead others to their deaths until the fighting had passed, and peace was brought to the lands.

To see him king was her only dream, for if his hands were to take the throne, then she would be his sword and shield, for there was nothing she truly believed in and was loyal to more than he, not even of Winter-Moor itself.

His will, her hands.


Xander kept a steady pace on the rock path the people of past Winter-Moor had carved long ago, keeping a careful watch of all around him and his team, knowing that at any moment they could be walking into a trap, looking to avoid any direct confrontations with wandering patrols just yet, hoping to prevent any injuries before the actual fighting had begun. He had to be quick though, for every moment spent in fear of the tribe and their trickery, the more treasure was stolen from their land.

His land.

This greatly angered him, for they had never once sought to claim what belonged to the tribe, though he was not enraged enough to go seeking a fight just yet, which he knew is what Zag sought, their very vengeful Shield-Sister. She may yet have her wish, which wasn't at all hidden from him, as his last meeting with the Golden Tongues had done nothing to ease the tension between the two sides.

To be the one people looked upon to protect them was a sight Xander knew well, for it was expected of him to defend Winter-Moor to his dying breath, a harsh responsibility placed on one so young he had yet to feel the touch of a woman, and younger still that it wasn't yet time for him to think of such things, yet still he managed to cope well enough, his learning the art of war and the warmth of blood against his face having done this to him long ago.

Though he faithfully and willingly served, it didn't make it right that so much was placed upon him.

Ever since he had first taken up a blade in the name of the Lords of Winter, this had been his life, and forever would it remain so. A life where every day was a test of his strength and leadership, for if he lacked in either category, than any of his mistakes would come with the cost of lives.

Not his own, but of his family, his brothers and sisters. And knowing this was maddening, and yet, he'd somehow made it this far, the only true comforts at the end of the day being his friends, they among the only few he actually cared for.

For he would do all that he could to ensure their safety, they being the only family he had left, the only thread of sanity he still had, and for each passing day was there threat of those bonds being severed.

And it was this fear of his that may just lead him to bloodshed, for this tribe had long threatened him and his people, though never directly.

This was the tribe of Golden tongues, and they held a particular fondness for gold. He didn't know why, as the many conflicts with them hadn't really given him the time to speak with a tribe member on such things, but they considered gold holy, the base of their religions, and sought to claim as much as they possibly could.

Though they were tribal, they were in some ways more advanced than those around them.

Somehow, these people had discovered a way to create massive quantity's of gold, at least that's what they knew; if Xander believed the stories anyway.

They'd never managed to capture any live Golden Tongue's for integration, so he doubted that there was any truth to these rumors, for these kinds of things were what Winter-Moor strived to discover, so for others to have learned how to do such a thing before they was not something he easily believed. Had they truly discovered something that was as great as this, then he saw no reason for them to continue to steal gold from the lands of others, but these were people who had based their entire faith off of the precious mineral, so he guessed they could never have enough, even if they could create it.

He understood what it meant to them, but the land they were taking it from was of a great resource to them.

Winter-Moor called it the Golden-River, and other times the Golden-Lake, and for good reason. For this large plot of land contained much gold to harvest, which his people relied on as an item of trade.

Winter-Moor was never short on supply of food, for only they had land that was able to handle farming on the scale that they did, for in this land of never-ending winter, it was almost impossible to yield any sort harvest.

Yet the people of Winter-Moor were fortunate enough to have found territory where such things were possible, yet, even with their supply of food, they held no true power over the land they all lived and shared.

They controlled only a piece of the continent -although a very large piece- for this was the land of Snowfall.

It was a harsh land of winter that never almost never ceased, and the people of Winter-Moor were the best suited for the kind of harsh life one would find here in this land of ice. Though, it would be inaccurate to say this was a place of only icy hell, for at least two-tenths of the land were free from winter.

While others did all they could to remove themselves of the frost from their lives, his people had embraced it, learned how to grow food in the worst land possible, to survive in it, thrive in it, become stronger because of it.

it was this reason that they held more territory than any other that inhabited Snowfall, for many other groups had long abandoned the icy regions of Snowfall, leaving them alone to rule all that the snow touched.

And because they could survive such harsh conditions, their numbers were far greater than any faction that lived on or off of Snowfall.

Yet, there were many that knew just how to exploit the snow kingdom, for they held one fatal flaw.

Though their numbers were great and their people stronger than any, more skilled than those that they stood against, they were too poorly equipped to handle war on such a large scale. For all their strength, skill, and numbers, it all meant nothing of they lacked the proper tools.

Though their land was fertile and gold was plentiful, it lacked the much stronger materials, the kinds of things that was needed to properly supply the armies they possessed.

It was only thanks to the strength of the special forces that kept them from being truly controlled, for they were the strongest warriors that Winter-Moor had to offer, and therefore, all of Snowfall.

Yet even with these powerful fighters at their beck and call, there were many that were too scared of the losses they might suffer if they were to challenge the more dominate groups of Snowfall, to engage in the warfare needed to free them for their enemies, such as the Bloodtraders, who held an iron grip over them, which grew tighter every day they were allowed to oppress Winter-Moor.

This group was smaller than most, but what they lacked in numbers, they made up for with stronger weapons; weapons that Winter-Moor did not have access too.

Xander knew though, that if they were to take their stand against them, to take their rightful place as the rulers of Snowfall, they would win within a few years, give or take. He knew the special forces were more than powerful enough to handle this task, and if they were to be given all the resources that Winter-Moor had at its disposable then it was possible, they just lacked leaders with the right amount of courage needed to send others to their deaths. Deaths necessary to ensure victory, and their freedom.

He swore though, that when it came time for him to be made king of Winter-Moor, no longer would he tolerate such things, that he would find the strength to do what need be done, no matter the sacrifice. No matter the cost.

No matter how many need die in the process. It didn't matter, freedom is what they sought, better lives for his people, better future's for the new generations, a future that did not depend upon children to become soldiers.

Those that challenged his people would know the sting of winter, and would learn to fear it, to know what it meant to be afraid of the frost.

Zag was right in her belief that Xander desired the throne of the most potentially dangerous kingdom in the land. Though he would make no such claim just yet, for only when he had become as powerful as he could would he take it for himself, he was lucky though that he was the leader of Alpha, for this was the perfect position to plan his ascension. And once Winter-Moor was his, so too, would Snowfall. And even beyond if it became necessary. All he need do is unite all of Winter-Moor under his banner.

As they moved on towards the center of where reports of the Golden Tongues had been last seen to have had taken up camp and of their last known location, he could just barely make out the sounds of chanting and laughter, more likely to be the tribe celebrating their newly acquired treasure trove.

Coming closer to the sounds, Xander began to smile. These were enemies that had long since plagued Winter-Moor and her children of snow, but his leaders had always been concerned with open war with these people when there were far greater threats to have concern for, and it was their lack of action that had made this tribe believe they had free reign over the land, but no longer would he tolerate it.

The Golden Tongues always sent large excavation teams, always too many for one team to handle.

But they weren't any one team; even if the rest of their brothers and sisters were elsewhere, and Xander grew tired of playing these games, so, this would be the final time he'd have to repeal them, and he and his siblings were more than a match for them, even with the rest of Alpha away.

He believed in the strength of his sword-arm and his team, and if Winter-Moor leaders were so scared of engaging the Golden Tongues head on, then he would be the one to do so.

This would be but one more step towards the throne, until we was ready to lead his charge to take it.