Chapter 1938: The True Victor Emerges (Part One)

The Frozen Forest went mad, and Khorijin was caught up in that madness.

Even at the fringes of the chaos, tiny hailstones peppered her wounded flanks, followed by larger hailstones the size of walnuts that struck her square between the shoulder blades.

Worst of all were the fruits that unleashed dizzying clouds of swirling snow.

In the hunt so far, the snow was a mild irritant. It allowed Erling and Khorijin to evade each other, yes, but it did very little real harm after Khorijin’s first blunder through the snow into the Frozen Forest. For the most part, hunkering down for a moment until the snow passed or moving very slowly through the whiteout was sufficient to escape it safely.

This time, however, she couldn’t stay still. The Frozen Forest was tearing itself apart behind her, and she couldn’t take the chance of getting caught up in even more devastation. She pressed on despite the risk, and sharp, low-hanging branches tore at her shoulders, arms, sides, and neck to teach her the price of her careless advance.

"Starlight, show me the way," she said, gathering what little strength she had left to find a way to escape the nightmare that Erling had unleashed. She’d leaned more heavily on the Heavens for guidance tonight than she’d ever imagined she would. She was pushing against limits she didn’t want to test.

The alternative was worse. Whatever fate awaited her for relying too much on the guidance of the Heavens tonight, it was better than the fate of impaling herself on a branch made of ice because she couldn’t see where she was going.

The light that answered her call was even more confusing than the last time she’d called on the Heavens for guidance. Two paths arced out from her feet. One, bright and lavender, led back the direction she’d come from, as if that was somehow still her path to victory. The other, pale and gray, stretched back the way she’d come, curving onto another path in the distance.

"Safety or victory?" Khorijin asked, frowning at the faint lines. "Or something else?"

Nothing made sense at the moment. She’d never received such strange and ambiguous signs before...

-CRACK!-

Another Ice Fruit exploded behind her, this one scattering another wave of pea-sized hailstones across the trail behind her, and Khorijin made her decision.

Safety.

Just for a few moments. The lavender line faded in her vision as she followed the pale gray one through the swirling snow, ducking low and making herself as small as she could while moving away from the explosive nightmare that Erling had unleashed.

If his first shot had hit his target instead of missing... She shuddered to think about what would have happened if she’d been caught in all that.

After what felt like an eternity, Khorijin emerged from the swirling snow, and the sound of cracking, falling branches faded behind her. Her heart hammered in her chest, and steam rose from her body in the cold, wintery air. Under her warm, padded clothing, her whole body was slick with sweat, but she was safe... At least for the moment.

For a minute, she just stood still on the trail, taking deep, steady breaths while she took stock of her body and all the new hurts she’d accumulated. Everything hurt. The bleeding in her smaller wounds had mostly stopped, but one of the deep ones on her left flank had started up again. So much of her flesh was tender and bruised that she felt like she’d become one large bruise.

Khorijin winced in pain as she took a few tentative, careful steps. She’d escaped the worst of that nightmare, but even if she limped back to the healers now, she was certain it would be days before she could run again. Right now, a light trot was as much as she thought she could manage.

But if it was this bad for her, what must it have been like for the small human who set all of this off?

"I can’t stand down," he’d said when they first met. "Reynold Aleese is my friend. His father’s life is in danger. I have to fight."

"You’re an honorable man, Lord Erling," Khorijin said as she stared back in the direction of the Lord of Fayle. For more than a decade, he’d kept a promise that left her herd in peace. According to High Lord Dirar, he’d gained a reputation as a coward among his own people for holding their truce.

But what kind of coward would take such a tremendous risk to protect their friend’s family?

"That kind of courage deserves victory," Khorijin said softly. Her heart ached in her chest at the thought of what drove him. She bore the weight of countless lives lost in the struggle between the Aleese and the herds of the Southern Steppe. She couldn’t stand down any more than he could. But she could admire why he fought. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

"I still want to be your friend," he’d said when he offered to help bind her wounds. At the time, she’d rejected him because honor demanded that she finish this fight cleanly. Any friendship that formed between them could only come after they resolved this contest, not before.

But if this was how he treated his friends...

Her hooves clopped on the frozen ground as she turned around, looking back at the carnage of broken branches and even fallen trees behind her.

Snow settled slowly to the ground like a white, winter blanket that softened the sharpness of the icy trees with their razor-sharp branches. The whole world had gone quiet under the shifting, colorful lights from above. It was a terrifying sight when she thought about the wave of destruction that had created it, but it was also beautiful in its own way.

But where was Erling?

"Did he get away on the other side?" Khorijin wondered as she took a few tentative, clopping steps toward the hollow where she’d last seen the human lord. "Is he racing for victory right now?"

Unconsciously, she took several more steps forward, searching the carnage for any sign that he’d escaped, or that he hadn’t. If he’d fallen here... But then, what if he hadn’t? He still had one arrow left. There were still plenty of Ice Fruits hanging on the trees around them, gently swaying in the aftermath of the fury Erling had unleashed.

If he used that arrow against her, she didn’t know if she could withstand another beating, even if it only came in the form of punishing hail. And if she was caught by another storm of sharp shards...

She should turn back. She should follow the path to safety, and hope that she could reach the finish line before Erling. Win or lose, she’d fought hard. No one would shame her for the result. The herds would accept the outcome because no one could have done better. She should turn around right now and...

And then she saw it.

Lying on the ground just a length or two from the tree he’d hidden behind when he launched his attack, she saw the bow he’d carried for the entire hunt, lying on the ground where it had fallen. Then, less than two full lengths away, was the slumped figure of her opponent, surrounded by broken, fallen branches.

Branches that had been stained red with blood.