I awoke huddled against the cold. I could see the fog of my breath in the dim early morning light and despite the cold, I resisted the urge to stay bundled up and crawled out from under what little warm embrace that my blankets provided. The floor was freezing and I only barely suppressed a yelp of surprise, taking a moment to steel myself before padding across the one-room cabin toward the hearth. It took several minutes, but I was able to fan the dying embers of last night’s fire back into a roaring blaze by adding more kindling and a couple of small logs, and then I made my way back toward my bed.

As much as I would have liked to crawl back under my blankets, I didn’t. Instead, I took them and added them to the other bed where Aunt Abby was asleep, shivering from the cold. She tended to get cold easily and recently her joints had started to ache from it at times so I hoped that this would at least keep her comfortable until the fire had managed to warm the cabin.

I wished that we had some other way to keep the cabin warm, for Aunt Abby’s sake, but our village was just a small hunting and trading community and we couldn’t afford the wonders that the Alchemists and Tinkers in the larger towns and cities produced. Both professions were rare and well sought after and one would seldom see them anywhere as small as Serkis. Even if I could afford such things, the majority of people in our village didn’t trust such things.

‘We’ preferred to live a simple life, from what the land gave us, and the only Tinker-made device in the village was the farspeaker in the chief’s cabin and a couple of guns. Most of the Elders believed that it was the old world’s ‘technology’ and arrogance that had drawn the Darkness to them and led to the fall of civilization. Even if they were right though, such things were just tools, and refusing to use them wouldn’t change the past. If we were going to change the future and vanquish the darkness though, I felt that it was foolish to ignore tools that might help with that out of spite.

I thought again about exploring the ruins to the north, they weren’t far away and it was said that the old world had many wonders that not even the Alchemists and Tinkers could come close to replicating. Once again I dismissed the idea. The ruins were likely filled with Demons and it would be foolhardy to risk encountering one for the sake of mere comfort. After all, everyone knew that only Angels could fight against the Demons and win, or at the very least come out of it still breathing and not turned into a Demon themselves. I put the thoughts out of my mind and started to prepare a meager breakfast with what we had available.

Aunt Abby usually made breakfast, but I did my best. I owed her so much and tried to do whatever I could to make her life easier. She was my mother’s sister and they were Catkin from another Animan village further south before my mother had come here to trade and met my father. When my parents died in a Demon attack on the village when I was a small child Aunt Abby came to the village, raised me on her own, and taught me how to survive. She even ignored my strangeness, though she and the other Elders of the village kept telling me that I wasn’t strange, I was special.

I didn’t feel special, I just felt wrong. Ever since I was a small child I had felt like I was in the wrong body and it had only gotten worse since I had started to mature when I was thirteen. The past two years, slowly turning into a man often made me think of going to the ruins and finding a Demon just to make it all end. I didn’t want this, I just wanted to be like all the other girls. Sure, everyone was understanding and I could dress as a young woman among the people of my village, but that never changed what was beneath the clothes.

Aunt Abby and the other Elders said that I was of two spirits and that made me special in the eyes of the Great Spirits. They said that it, my coloring, and my gift meant that I was chosen, that the spirit of the moon and snow had great plans for me. Gifted children were rare, few received the gifts of the first seed-borne. Rarer still were Animen with pure white hair, ears, and tail. I was both.

My coloring and my gift just made me stand out even more among the people of my village. Everyone else was normal for the people of our tribe with dark hair and eyes, red-brown skin, and their animal features only consisted of the ears and tails. No matter if they were Catkin, Foxkin, Wolfkin, Harekin, Bearkin, or some other kind of Animan, that was always the case.

Sure, Mom and Aunt Abby weren’t as dark with their green eyes and sandy brown hair but they weren’t originally from Serkis and at least they had some color. Then there was me, the boy-girl Catkin with the snow-white hair, ears, and tail. Even my skin was as white as newly fallen snow and I also had claws, fangs, and golden eyes like a cat’s. As much as I stood out I could have lived with all of that if only I could be a real girl.

So, despite the Elders all telling me how special I was, I couldn’t really see it. I was just glaringly different. My gift wasn’t even remotely useful, except in the height of summer. In fact, if I wasn’t careful it could be dangerous. I could create ice from water or the moisture in the air. As rare as seed-borne gifts are, I had heard of far more useful and interesting ones.

I tried to shake off such dour thoughts as I quickly ate my morning meal and tried to get motivated for the day ahead. Once I was done eating I set Aunt Abby’s breakfast on the small table beside her bed and made my way outside. It was rare that I awoke before she did and I was hoping to hunt something down to contribute to tonight’s communal meal and maybe finish Aunt Abby’s gift for tomorrow.

It was the winter solstice today, and if all went well then the village would be celebrating tomorrow. I wasn’t sure about the rest of the world, or even the other countries of Nomerica, but it was celebrated all across the Queendom of Misota. These two days are the most important days of the year and it was said that Kriss-Mass was celebrated even before the collapse of the old world, though it might have been celebrated differently back then.

The winter solstice is the longest night of the year, the ever-night. It is believed that if we lose the light of hope on this night then the sun will never rise again and the world will end, just as the old world did. Tonight was a no-moon, there wouldn’t even be the smallest sliver of the moon visible so the risk was even greater. So tonight we would build a great fire and light lanterns to give us warmth, light, and hope until the dawn, and if the sun rose in the morning then we would celebrate Kriss-Mass.

Kriss-Mass is the celebration to rejoice in the knowledge of another year to come and to show our appreciation for the past year and those with who we shared it. We give gifts to loved ones, feast together, give our thanks that the light has not faded, and share in our hopes and dreams for the coming year. It is also the day that the Angels are chosen, or those who might someday become one, to be a shining light in the fight against the Demons and the Darkness that they serve.

I wasn’t sure how it worked in the other countries of Nomerica but here in the Queendom of Misota the Santas, bringers of the light, would visit each village, town, and city and give a blessing of hope for the coming year to each good child. They would also take the light-bearer to the capital and the Angel Academy to train to become an Angel. Here in Serkis, the light-bearer is a child fifteen years or older chosen by the Elders to represent the hopes of the village and to ensure that the fire and lanterns stayed lit all through the ever-night. I had heard that it was done similarly in other villages but that larger towns and cities chose more than one and there was some sort of application process.

If the world did not fall to the Darkness tonight, then this would be the first year that I would be eligible to be a light-bearer and represent my village. There were not many people in our village in the proper age range and I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted to be chosen. It wasn’t a sure thing regardless, not every light-bearer was selected to go to the academy and fighting Demons was a scary thought.

Each one who did qualify for the academy was paid to attend until they graduated and became Angels though. After that, they would work for the Queen with other Angels to protect the people of Misota. While I didn’t care about the money myself, I could use it to get some things from the Tinkers to make Aunt Abby’s life easier. While she still seemed healthy and was barely into her fourth decade, she wasn’t getting any younger and I would worry about her if I had to leave.

I was tracking a deer through the fresh snow. It looked like a large one, possibly a buck. I already had two grouse hanging from my belt but if I could manage to take it down then there would be enough to take to the village butcher for tomorrow’s feast. It was still cold, but the furs that I was wearing and the constant movement of the hunt were helping to keep me warm. Hunting had been lean lately and a gift of venison for the village on Kriss-Mass would make the extra time in the cold well worth it.

After quickly checking to make sure that I was downwind of the tracks, I crept cautiously forward. It could be long gone, the tracks were hours old and probably made some time during the night but the thought of the smiles on the faces of the other villagers should we have fresh venison tomorrow pushed me onward. I would have to be careful that it didn’t sense me coming, I would have to get close so I was only going to get one chance at this.

Why would I have to get close? Because I would have to take it down the old-fashioned way, with only my physical attributes, claws, and the small hunting knife that I wore. Guns were Tinker-made and we only had a few for the village, not enough to trust one of the younglings like myself and I wouldn’t borrow Aunt Abby’s. It was special, different from other such weapons that the village Elders had, and I had never seen her use it but she had forbidden me from touching it, saying that it was dangerous. A bow was out too since I had severed more than my share of bowstrings with a claw in the past while making a shot so I had given up on learning archery long ago. It was a good thing that I was a Catkin because my enhanced speed, strength, agility, and reflexes would work in my favor.

I made my way carefully along the game trail, careful to step lightly and avoid disturbing the snow or brush any more than necessary. My ears twitched at every sound and my heart pounded in my chest as I followed the tracks. It was going toward the lake, probably to the lake for a drink and in the hopes of finding enough vegetation for a meal. I was nearly in sight of the lake when I smelled something that made my ears flatten back against my head and my tail bristle in fear. It was a Demon.

The last time that I had smelled something like this was when I was a small child and a small horde of Demons attacked the village. My parents and I had been running for the shelter with the other villagers when I smelled something very similar. All that I could remember now was the large shadow, the fear that I felt, and my parents telling me to keep running. It was the last time that I saw them alive.

I was frozen with fear, memories of what had been left of my parents flashing through my mind before I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, and managed to get control of myself. After a deep breath, I did my best to calm myself, slow my heart rate, and quiet my breathing so that my senses could search for the source of the danger. I scanned the area around me, not moving a muscle for the moment while I sniffed the air cautiously, my eyes and ears moving to monitor my surroundings.

That was when I saw it, a small black object. It was small, roughly oval-shaped, and its black husk was slightly glossy in the way it reflected the light. At first glance, it would appear as if it were a small stone but it was sitting atop the fresh snow. Carefully, I unsheathed my hunting knife and used the tip to poke the suspicious object, frowning when it dissolved into dust at the touch.

“A Demon-seed,” I muttered quietly. Scanning the area I saw two more seeds nearby, both blackened as well. New seeds were red, the color of blood, they only became black like that after transferring their essence to a living creature and turning them into a Demon. One seed was a fluke, two was a bad coincidence, but three? There was only one explanation. There had been a seed-storm last night.

I needed to get back to warn the village. I had ventured a couple of hours from the Serkis on my hunt and if the storm had reached that far I would have heard about it before attempting to leave or even when the storm hit. The village was probably safe for the moment, but if there was a storm last night that meant that these woods were crawling with unhatched seeds and Demons hungry from their metamorphosis. If they discovered the presence of the village they would try to wipe out every man, woman, and child because that’s what Demons do. I needed to at least warn the village so that we could post lookouts and the chief could use the farspeaker to call the Angel barracks in the capital to request a team to clear the forest of Demons and destroy any unhatched seeds.

There had not been a seed-storm in this area since the Demon attack when I was a child. To happen on the solstice and a night with no moon was a very bad omen. Nobody knew what or where the Darkness was exactly or how it came to be, except perhaps the Angels, but certainly not us common folk. Nobody knew what caused the seed-storms either, they seemed to appear randomly with no rhyme or reason. All that we knew for sure was that the Demons created chaos wherever they appeared and that they served the Darkness, their purpose seeming to be nothing more than to wipe out intelligent life on our world.

All that we had to go on were legends. It was said that over six hundred years ago the Darkness appeared, though the stories of where it came from and why vary greatly. The sky turned black as night and a rain of blood fell upon the great cities of the world. These were the seeds, and any living creature that they touched was subverted, changed into monstrous creatures.

Humans were changed as well, many into unthinking beasts but some resisted the change. Their forms did not change completely, they retained their human souls, and developed strange abilities. These were the first of the seed-borne; the Animen, the Fay, and the Devilkin. Even some of those who resisted eventually slipped into madness though, claiming that an inhuman voice was assaulting their minds, urging them to kill. The Darkness.

As the Demon numbers grew and humanity dwindled over the decades to follow, the old world fell and the long night began as what was left of humanity went into hiding. Much of who we were before the old world fell was lost during that time, what little knowledge there was left being passed down through the mouths of storytellers. A chosen few carried on the knowledge of reading and writing but precious few books or maps of the old world survived the long night and most of them were ravaged by time and the elements. Even if there were some to be found in the ruins, nobody ventured there and it was unlikely that they would be readable after all this time.

It was over a hundred years before humanity and its offshoots began to form a new society as the countries of Nomerica rose to power and in Misota the Angels were created to fight Demonkind, protect the people, and defeat the Darkness. But if the people of the old world couldn’t defeat the Darkness, with all of their wondrous technology, how could anyone? The Angels had been trying for over four hundred years now and the Darkness still endured.

Such dour thoughts occupied my mind as I ran as swiftly as I could back to the village. I felt that haste was more important than stealth at the moment but I should have been more cautious. If I had been then I probably could have avoided trouble. As it was, it was my heightened senses and reflexes that saved me. I caught a strange scent and my eyes caught the movement even as the crashing of the underbrush reached my ears and I pivoted to the right, rolling away from the Demon’s lunge.

The large creature landed in a spray of snow and I practically jumped to my feet and turned in the same instant, so I could find out what I was dealing with. Dammit, why couldn’t it have been something small and relatively harmless, like a bunny? Unfortunately, this Demon had likely once been a wolf and it still retained the general shape of one.

It was huge though, taller than me at its shoulders and covered with bristly black fur that resembled the quills of a porcupine. Then there were the bone spikes protruding from its back and whatever that green drool dripping from its mouth was, it sizzled when It hit the ground. In the instant it took me to get a good look, the Demon’s head turned to snarl at me as baleful crimson eyes regarded me hungrily.

I didn’t think I could get away, if I ran then that thing would catch up with me easily. I couldn’t risk getting too close to it either though. Even without its size, powerful jaws, and those spines and bristles I couldn’t dare try and fight that thing up close and personal. Even if I did some damage to it, Demon blood is toxic, it’s bound to the Darkness and I could risk getting infected and turning into a Demon myself. Only the Angels were immune and it was why they burned the corpses of Demons after killing them, to avoid other creatures eating the flesh and being turned as well.

If I couldn’t run and I couldn’t fight it up close then what could I do? Throwing my knife at it would be stupid, it wasn’t going to hurt anything that big and I would just be throwing away my only real weapon other than my claws, and I wasn’t going to get close enough to use those even if they weren’t hidden inside my gloves. Even if I could manage to injure it with my claws, then there would be no avoiding its blood at that range. That left me with what? The only things around were shrubs, pine trees, and snow.

Snow? I considered the idea as the Demon and I circled each other, each watching for an opportunity to attack. I had never tried to use my gift like this before. I knew that I could control the ice that I created, I could even form shapes with it, but I had never tried anything very big before. I had never tried controlling snow or making it into solid into ice before either. I didn’t even know if it was even possible, but I couldn’t think of a better time to try to find out.

I called upon my gift, feeling for that cold light deep inside my core and bringing it to the surface of my skin. Usually, I had to be careful doing this, if anyone tried to touch me the cold would do them serious harm. In fact, just reaching out and touching water or focusing on the moisture that I could sense in the air was enough to create ice when I had my aura going. Until now, I had never needed or attempted to do more for fear of endangering those around me.

Now though, I reached outward with those senses, feeling the snow on the ground around me and the Demon I now faced. I could feel it, I felt connected, but I still had no idea if I could use that connection. As the Demon-wolf and I circled warily I had managed to put a bit more distance between us but that wasn’t going to last. It seemed to grow tired of playing with me as I was still trying to figure out what I was going to do. For a moment the bone spikes on its back glowed that same ominous crimson as its eyes and then it howled.

Again, I barely managed to jump out of the way, my instincts screaming at me to move. I screamed in the pain that erupted in my ears as I avoided the attack but the tree behind me hadn’t been so fortunate. It exploded into splinters and I was showered in wooden debris, several large shards embedding themselves in my right leg, causing me to scream in agony once more.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to keep standing and keep my eyes on the Demon despite this new pain and the high-pitched whine that was all that I seemed capable of hearing at the moment. I was injured but I was still alive, so I could still fight. Judging from what had happened to that tree, I probably wouldn’t have been if that attack had hit me instead.

I couldn’t take another hit like that and in my current condition, I probably couldn’t avoid another attack either. I needed to finish this. I ignored my pain and my clouded vision and focused on the snow, ice, and the moisture in the air around me, gathering and directing it. I hurt and I just wanted to collapse but I couldn’t afford to do that yet, not until it was safe.

A wall of ice arose between me and my demonic assailant, distorting its appearance even further to my foggy vision. In the distorted scene that the icy wall before me presented, I could see those spikes on the beast starting to glow crimson once again. I wasn’t going to make it, the wall had already sapped enough of my fading strength and soon that would be shattered, just like the tree. No! As much as I hated my body, I refused to go down like that, just giving up and letting death walk right up and take my hand.

Anger and fear loaned me the strength that I needed. I gritted my teeth and kept my focus on my task, willing it to be so as I reached out once again with my gift. Just as the Demon was opening its mouth once more to howl a spear of ice shot up from the ground beneath it, piercing its chest and driving through it to erupt from its back in a spray of blood. The wall in front of me was splattered with crimson, shielding me as I collapsed to the ground and everything went black.

I awoke to pain and the howl of winter winds. For a moment I lay there in confusion but the sight of the blood-splattered wall of ice quickly reminded me of what had happened. At least I could hear again, but I needed to do something about my injuries and make my way back to the village. I had been out far too long, the sun had progressed far toward the horizon and I estimated that I had only two hours before sunset. I needed to warn the village about the seed storm, the lights and fires of the solstice celebrations could draw Demons, and right now there was a forest full of them.

I removed my leather gloves, opened my leather hunting jacket, and started tearing strips of cloth from the shirt I wore underneath. With that done and my jacket once more secured against the cold, I steeled myself and reached down to pull the first of the wooden shards from my outer thigh, hissing in pain. I wouldn’t allow myself to scream, it could draw more Demons and I was lucky that the sound of the earlier fight hadn’t already done so.

With the shard removed, I quickly bound the wound in one of the strips from my shirt and then repeated the process with the other two shards sticking out of my leg. Then I donned my gloves, got to my feet, and tried to ignore the blinding pain that the latter action had summoned. I had no time for pain, I needed to warn the village before it was too late.

I hobbled as swiftly as I could through the woods and toward the village my senses alert for any kind of movement other than my own. I couldn’t see or hear anything but my nose told me that there were Demons around, or there had been recently. I quickened my pace, gritting my teeth against the discomfort that caused me.

The sun was nearing the horizon as I finally entered the village and staggered into the square, where everyone in the village was preparing to ward off the ever-night. Lanterns were being hung, and a pyre of wood as tall as me was ready to be set ablaze as the sun set. The smell of cooking fowl and other dishes made my stomach growl in protest but it would have to wait, I had more important matters to take care of.

Near where the pyre was being prepared I could make out my aunt’s tall athletic form and distinctive hair. Catkin like us made up close to half of the village, but there was no mistaking her light brown hair ears, and tail among all of the black or dark browns of the other villagers. Her skin was lighter too, she had been nearly as pale-skinned as I was when she first came to the village but over the years her skin had taken on a more sun-kissed tone that I remembered my mother having too.

She was talking with Ragan, the village Chief, and some of the other Elders as I approached. The Chief was a large jovial Bearkin, his dark hair turning silver with age and contrasting the obsidian hue of the small and round black ears atop and slightly to the sides of his head. Where my aunt and the other elders wore simple fur-trimmed leather outerwear, much like my own, Ragan’s were decorated with tiny beads woven into the shapes of foxes, wolves, cats, rabbits, squirrels, and bears to represent the peoples of the tribe.

It was Aunt Abby who first noticed my approach. “Snow! I was starting to worry that you would miss the announcement. It wouldn’t do for this year’s light-bearer to miss the lighting ceremony.” Then she noticed the state that I was in as I limped wearily toward them, “What happened, Snow?”

“Seed-storm… last night… out by the lake,” I managed to get out between gritted teeth and heaving breaths. “Ran into a… Demon-wolf on the way back. Killed it.”

I had the Elders’ attention. Their eyes all settled on me even as my Aunt’s settled on my bloodied leg. “Snow…” she started to ask, her voice tinged with concern.

“Don’t worry… my blood…not the Demon’s. Tree exploded… I got hit with shrapnel. Used ice… to shield myself… when I killed it,” I assured her.

The Elders were abuzz with worried conversation until Chief Ragan put a stop to it and began issuing orders. “Silence! I will use the farspeaker to let the capital know of our situation. Everyone else, start moving the food, lights, and any supplies that you can to the shelter. We will hold the ceremony of light there. Hurry! We don’t have much time until the sun starts to set!”

Everyone was suddenly in motion, conscripting every villager who was old enough to walk with taking things to the shelter. The village was a flurry of activity until the sun began to set, painting the sky an ominous red. Everything necessary had been taken to the shelter, and now our people were filing into the great iron doors built into the side of a small cliff near the river-side of the village. My aunt and I were bringing up the rear of the column and were about to join them inside with the elders when I saw something glint blindingly in the light of the setting sun.

“What the…” I began to say in a mix of awe and confusion. It was like a bird, but bigger than any bird I could imagine, its wingspan easily the length of three good-sized cabins end-to-end. It looked like its very feathers were made of a silvery metal that shone pink in the light of the setting sun. The only parts of it that didn’t look to be made of metal were its talons, which didn’t make them look any less mercilessly sharp, and its red featherless head with large beady black eyes that made me shiver down to my very soul.

“Shit! It’s a Razorwing!” my aunt cursed. “Get inside, Snow! Seal the doors behind you, we’re the only ones left outside.” Then she did something with her gun, causing it to emit a humming sound as she slammed a rectangular object into a slot in the underside.

“But…” I countered, my heart clenching in fear as memories of my parents’ deaths flooded my mind.

“Go! We both have our jobs to do! You’re the light-bearer, you need to be in there to keep the light alive and give the others hope. I need to keep you all safe and to do that I need to keep its attention on me and away from the shelter. Tell them that there’s an Angel out here fighting for them,” she commanded, pushing me toward the doors.

She ran toward where the great metal bird hovered at an alarming speed before stopping to yell at it and fire a shot. I couldn’t hear the gun go off but I saw the result, the Demon's left eye exploded, causing it to scream in pain and fury. Its attention was now on her and it dove, only to hover in confusion as Aunt Abby seemed to split into six of herself, each screaming and hurling insults at it before bolting off in different directions. It was strange, even to my excellent vision those different versions of my aunt appeared blurry and they weren’t holding guns, they looked more like spears.

For a moment I was torn between going out to help her and doing as she had ordered. With a worried sigh, I did the latter. I was in no condition to help her and I would probably only get in her way. If she really was an Angel like she had just claimed, then if anyone could survive fighting that thing it would be her. Besides, she was right, I had a job to do. I closed the doors, offering a prayer to the Great Spirits to keep her safe.