Chapter 1

Mason watched the snow fall through the frosted window, his breath fogging it up as he leaned closer. He then pressed the palm of his hand against the window, feeling the ice cold glass burn at his skin. It was the middle of April, yet the snow had no intention of going anywhere. The temperature had only gotten lower with each passing week, with the lowest today being negative fifteen degrees Celsius.

Mason let out a short gasp, watching as a man bundled in rag clothing collapsed into the snow that covered the road. A group of people from a nearby home stumbled outside, helping pull the man off of the street and into their house. Mason then backed away from the windowsill, slipping his hands into his warm coat pockets. He gazed around his study, admiring the various mementos that hung along the walls, from different animal heads to medals of service.

A Knock on his doorframe caught Mason's attention, causing him to dart his head in that direction. In the doorway stood a taller man, dressed in finer clothing. He wore heavy brown boots with silver buckles, machine stitched pants and a thick, fur coat. The man had his dark brown hair down to his shoulders, with a mutton chops on the sides of his face. He smiled warmly at Mason, taking a small step into the study as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Hello Mason." He spoke with a raspy voice. "Its been a while, huh boy?"

"Uncle Marty..?" Mason whispered, a faint smile growing on his face as he quickly stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the man. "I wasn't expecting to see you drop by!"

Marty returned the hug, gently patting Mason on the back before pulling away. "Well I tried to get here sooner, but with all this bloody snow…"

"I know, Uncle." Mason started. "I'm just glad to see you. What brings you to London?"

"Well I thought I should come over and keep an eye on my favorite nephew! Make sure he doesn't freeze in this blasted cold!" He laughed.

Mason chuckled softly, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm your only nephew, and I'm certainly not a child anymore."

"Ah, I know that. How old are you now anyway? Eighteen?" Marty asked, unsure of his answer.

"I'm twenty-four now, actually. Afraid you were a bit off, Uncle."

"Twenty-four??" Marty exclaimed. "Hmm, it appears I've been away from home much longer than I thought…" His voice trailed off as he looked around the room, smiling happily at some of the trophies that hung over the fireplace. "You know, that Buck was your father's first successful hunt. Well, by successful I mean his first kill. We weren't even hunting it!"

"What do you mean?" Mason asked, intrigued by the inevitable story his uncle was about to spin.

"Well…" Marty walked over the fireplace, taking a seat in one of the cushioned wooden chairs. "Your Grandfather took your father and I out to catch small game. Teach us how to make snares, and how to track small game. We were only small lads, so he wasn't planning on tracking anything large. Well, while your grandfather was demonstrating how to properly set up a snare, your father spotted a white-tailed buck just up on this hill."

Mason took a seat across from his uncle, placing his hands on his knees as he leaned forward. Marty then continue his tale. "Usually when big game is around, it spooks the little ones. So your grandfather decided to move the snare elsewhere, as to have a better chance of actually catching something. The three of us calmly moved away from the hill, looking for another spot. We settled on a new spot, and your grandfather started the demonstration again. Once again, your father spotted the same Buck. It seemed to have been following us around, and just as we were getting ready to move again, the bloody creature charged towards us. Your Grandfather quickly pushed us both out of the way, just in time before the Buck scooped him off the ground, tossing him aside! Thankfully, he didn't get speared by the beasts antlers, but it certainly knocked the wind out of him. The Buck was ready to run back for another strike, but your father grabbed the rifle our father dropped. He quickly struggled to lift the dang thing before firing it, hitting the beast right in the eye. The Buck dropped just a few feet from your grandfather, and we all looked in shock."

Mason looked up at the Buck, seeing the fury it had in its final moments. "So my father always had a sharpshooter's eye, huh? Able to shoot the eye of a charging Buck like that."

Marty laughed slightly, planting his hand down on his knee. "Not exactly, no. He told us he was aiming for the Buck's chest, and instead hit the eye. Plus, your father was only eleven at the time, so the recoil of the rifle pushed him back on his ass! Nearly broke his shoulder!"

The two shared a hearty laugh, before Marty sighed quietly to himself. "I miss your father, so much…"

"I know, and so do I." Mason replied softly. It had been over eight years since his father passed from sickness. Marty nodded his head a bit, slowly standing himself up off of the chair. "What of your mother? I haven't seen her yet."

Mason sighed as he looked up at Marty. "She passed some months ago, just before the freeze hit."

Marty shook his head in disappointment. "Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. I wish I could've been here."

"Don't worry about it, Uncle Marty. I understand how important your work is." Mason reassured. His uncle was an Archeologist, often traveling the world to uncover ancient treasures of human history. His most recent exhibition, took him to the great pyramids in Egypt. Because of his frequent travels, it was difficult to send any letters to him.

The rooms silence was then filled with the sound of a distant ringing bell, followed by the shouts of a town crier. Mason and Marty glanced at each other, before rushing over to the window to hear the news. The Crier rang his bell frantically, shouting to all the nearby houses as he passed by. "All persons are required to attend a city-wide meeting today at noon! Please be sure to wear warm clothing! All persons are required…"

The crier's shouts started to fade as he continued down the road. Marty glanced over at Mason, giving his shoulder a gently pat. "Come on then, let's go see what all the fuss is."

Mason nodded in agreement, placing his hand firmly against his uncle's back as he led them out of the study. As they walked down the hall to the front door, Mason stopped at the clothes rack, grabbing his scarf and wool cap. He then slipped on the cap before swinging the scarf around his neck. "Hopefully it's just an update on this weather we've been having."

Marty grinded his teeth a bit nervously, shaking his head in disagreement. "I don't know about that. Any meeting that's mandatory, doesn't translate to 'good news'"

Mason's face dropped in disappointment, recognizing that his uncle may be right. He took in a deep breath before opening the front door, a gush of crisp air pouring into the house. The two men then stepped out into the cold, stuffing their pockets with their hands as they walked together towards the city's center.