Moonsong Glacier [BOO] In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

The very earth bowed to the squall of this estranged presence, and Fjall was not near naïve enough to think that he could stand against it. He held his head low against the bladed, screeching wind, weathering its fury until suddenly–

There was nothing.

He dared peer upwards, a glimpse of that greenfire hovering hollowly at his eyeline. The boy felt a weight settle upon his slender shoulders then – cold as chainmail, heavy as a great shield he was only strong enough to carry but not wield.

It felt to be all about him: grasping, gripping, pulling.

Fjall stiffened but did not refuse it, borne ceaselessly in a direction he knew was not his own. Lurching and unsure, though willing.

I am yours. I am yours. I am yours.

The mantra filled his thoughts, echoing through the halls of his veins, reaching out to the feral entity that had curled its ghostly tentacles round each of his limbs and led him home.