The next day, at the break of dawn, they set off.
Tom, who had gotten to know Mr. Bloom over the last four days, already understood that he wasn't like other old men—those typical elders who shuffle past you on the road and let out a fart without a care, as if they're already halfway into the house of the goddess. Mr. Bloom was different. There was something about him—sharp, alert, and oddly dignified beneath all his eccentricities. So, without overthinking it or bothering with too much preparation, Tom got up, dressed quickly, and within a few short minutes, he found himself dragging his feet behind Mr. Bloom, trying to keep up with the old man's brisk pace through the heavy, crunching snow.
They were both equipped with enough clothing to handle the cold—thick coats, gloves, boots, and scarves. Some of their garments, Tom knew, were enhanced with magical means. These enchantments kept the worst of the biting wind and bitter chill at bay. Still, despite the protection, the cold was relentless. The snow around them fell steadily in wide, lazy flakes, blanketing everything in white and muting the world with a soft hush.
"Why would anyone even live in this terrible place?" Tom muttered, unable to keep the thought to himself. His breath puffed visibly in the air as he spoke.
"How much of the history of the world did you learn in school?" Mr. Bloom asked him, his voice calm, unaffected by the cold or the early hour.
"Only the history of the village," Tom replied. He took a moment before continuing. "And Tim taught us a little more, but only what concerns the village directly. The teachers always said that the continent has a history going back millions of years, and that there's no point in studying the whole thing."
He paused mid-sentence and sneezed forcefully, bending slightly forward from the effort.
"Put on a scarf before you sneeze," Mr. Bloom told him matter-of-factly, not looking back. "Snot can freeze to your face, and it'll be a very difficult process to get rid of it."
Tom didn't argue. He pulled up his scarf and wrapped it more tightly around his face, covering his nose and mouth as best he could.
"In any case," Tom said after a moment, his voice slightly muffled by the scarf, "the history of the village is related to the history of the continent. That's what Tim always said."
"You're not entirely right," Mr. Bloom responded. "Let me tell you how the mountain people came to the mountain."
Tom was about to answer, but Mr. Bloom continued without waiting."They came after the dragon hunters…"
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This year, according to the Sun Count: 10 years
The whole world trembled.
Humans had managed to surpass the dragons and finally succeeded in destroying all the dragons on the Continent of the Dragons of Rage. The fall of the Dragon Empire sent powerful waves of shock and uncertainty across the world. As news of this monumental event spread, all the magical creatures became alert, sensing the shifting balance of power. Regional wars began to break out in many places, as tension and fear gripped the lands. The dragons of the four elements—fire, water, earth, and air—began to hunt humans relentlessly.
Despite the danger, humans managed in most places to repel the attacks of the dragons. They fought bravely, using all their strength and cunning to protect their homes. However, the magical creatures, united under the leadership of the dragons, resolved to wage war against humans as a whole. This united front of magical beings posed a great threat.
During this turbulent time, the ice dragons focused their fury on the humans living in the frozen region of the continent called Ginden. Ginden was a vast continent, known for many different landscapes and peoples, but one of its areas—the far northern coast—was covered in ice and snow year-round. It was in this frozen region that the ice dragons launched their attacks.
Entire villages were wiped out in their path, leaving nothing but ruin behind. Many others, faced with destruction, were forced to abandon their homes and flee for their very lives. The terror of the ice dragons was overwhelming.
In the face of this crisis, the survivors from the frozen region of Ginden eventually united around a great leader, a man known as Alfrad the Frostwise. Under his wise and determined leadership, they began to organize and fight back, pushing the ice dragons and their allies into retreat.
However, on the eastern frozen coast of Ginden, there was one village that remained unaware of this growing resistance. The great distance from the heart of the frost people left this village isolated and deeply immersed in the terror of the ice dragons. Unable to withstand the danger any longer, the villagers sought to escape across the frozen sea to the continent where the Kingdom of the Sun had risen.
They took one of their ships and set out on a journey that lasted quite a while. Despite the hardships of the voyage across icy waters and through treacherous weather, they eventually managed to reach Nyantra. There, they saw the golden army spread out in all its strength, prepared to prevent any possible enemy from entering the kingdom.
As soon as their ship arrived at the port, the villagers were immediately taken for examination. The inspection was thorough, but it quickly proved that they were not enemies. Soon after, the village leader was brought to a quick meeting with the king and his brothers, who were great warriors themselves. The king and his brothers were eager to learn what was happening across the rest of the continent.
The village leader told them the full story—how the dragons had launched all-out war and were trying to exterminate humanity.
Understanding the severity of the situation, the king realized that it was his responsibility to lead the war effort for the benefit of all humanity. And so, the Kingdom of the Young Sun went to war beyond its borders. It joined forces with the other human settlements, working together to suppress the advance of the magical creatures. Ultimately, they managed to close the magical creatures inside the mysterious continent once and for all.
Though this story may be told simply, and it may be easy to describe, the reality was harsh and brutal. The war was unbearable, and many lives were lost during its course.
The war lasted twenty consecutive years.
During these years, the king's younger brother, who was also the head of the army, fell in love with the daughter of the leader of the exiles from Ginden. He married her, and since then, all of his descendants have been born with white hair, like the frost people of Ginden.
Despite the happiness this brought, the exiles were accustomed to sleeping in the cold and could no longer bear the heat of the continent's center. So they wandered in search of a place that would suit them.
Eventually, they found a special village.
This village lay at the foot of a large mountain. The villagers were protected behind a powerful barrier and lived quite isolated from the rest of the world.
The exiles, realizing that the mountaintop was cold enough for them, asked the villagers to open the barrier and allow them to live on the mountain.
After some negotiation, the villagers agreed—but only on the condition that the exiles would come to their aid in times of need.
These villagers called themselves the Oleks, after the fearsome ice dragon king who had once tried to kill them. Their full name was The Oleksis Survivors, but over time, everyone simply called them the Oleks.
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"And so," said the old man, "the mountain people came here, and that's exactly why they live in such a frozen, harsh place." Mr. Bloom was like a walking library, filled with vast amounts of knowledge. He possessed not only information about the village itself but also about many events and happenings that took place outside the village, far beyond what most people knew.
"So what about—" Tom started to ask, curiosity rising in his voice, but before he could finish, Mr. Bloom interrupted him firmly.
"Look," said Mr. Bloom as he pointed ahead, "we've arrived." Beyond the thick fog that surrounded them, Tom could just make out the outline of large gates, which appeared to lead to a very serious and sturdy wall that surrounded the settlement.
"Just so you know," the old man continued, "this isn't exactly a village. It's more like a small town, with a community larger than you might expect."
As they approached the gate, two large guards came into view. Both had striking white hair and wore minimalist clothing—clear evidence that they were mountain people, accustomed to and unafraid of the cold.
"Who are you?" one of the guards asked sharply, recognizing them as strangers and immediately going on alert.
Before the other guard could speak, he growled, "What are you doing here, fool?" and without warning, he gave the first guard a solid blow to the head.
"These are the land people the leader said should come and visit," Mr. Bloom quickly explained. "No one but them is allowed to pass the barrier that surrounds the mountain area."
Upon hearing this, the second guard immediately straightened up, clearly ashamed of his earlier rough behavior. "I apologize from the bottom of my heart," he said sincerely. After that, they opened the gate for the visitors and allowed them to enter inside the protective walls.
Inside, the snow and fog that had been so thick outside were noticeably less prevalent. A kind of special magic was at work here, creating a barrier that kept the cold and mist from overwhelming the settlement.
Soon, a closed wagon appeared, pulled by a strange animal that Tom had never seen before.
From the wagon emerged a young woman, about twenty years old. She was very beautiful, with white hair tied into a long, thick braid that hung down her back. She wore a short, thin shirt that contrasted with the cold environment around her. Tom had never seen people with white hair before, and her unique beauty only emphasized how special she was.
"You are our guests," she said politely to Mr. Bloom.
"Indeed, that is the case," he replied with a respectful nod.
"Then come with me," she said. "My father is waiting."
After a short drive, they arrived at a very luxurious house surrounded by a low wall. Painted on the wall was an image of a white dragon. Tom looked at the dragon carefully, studying its shape.
"This is Oleksis, the ice dragon," the woman explained. "For us, it symbolizes all the evil that exists in the world. But at the same time, its non-existence and the fact that we still exist symbolize the eternal continuity of humanity as a species and as one great people."
They entered the house, which was both warm and magnificent inside, a sharp contrast to the cold outdoors.
"Bloom!" a loud voice called out suddenly. They turned to see a muscular, strong man with short white hair, shirtless.
"My dear friend," the man said loudly.
Bloom smiled warmly. "I thought you could no longer tolerate us. We haven't received an invitation in a decade."
"I apologize from the bottom of my heart," the leader said earnestly. "But a mysterious beast appeared on the mountain and was killing all our messengers," he said, pain evident in his voice. "Only last year did we manage to hunt it down."
He led them into the main room.
"What about you, Isidor?" Mr. Bloom asked kindly.
"I'm fine," Isidor replied. "At least things improved after we killed that monster."
He then looked at Tom, who was beginning to take off his coats.
"Who is this nice boy?" he asked with interest.
"Oh, this is Tom, my new assistant, and the one who met your messenger. He is also the great-grandson of old Tom Kay," Bloom explained.
Isidor's eyes lit up with excitement. "Tom Kay's great-grandson," he said. "It's a great honor to meet you. Your great-grandfather was a great man."
"I have something to ask you about the messenger," Tom said as he finished removing all his warm clothes and settled down on the sofa, sipping the tea that was offered to him.
"I can't really answer any questions about the messenger," Isidor said quietly.
"Why not?" Mr. Bloom and Tom asked together.
"Because I have no idea about him," Isidor said, sitting down next to Mr. Bloom. "As far as I know, this man belongs to The Dragon Hunter Village. The reason I sent him was because we still need our warriors to explore the other side of the mountain just in case. This man came to the village and asked for work in exchange for a supply of food that we grow here."
After this explanation, Isidor motioned for Mr. Bloom to follow him so they could speak privately, leading him to another room.
"Mia," he said to his daughter, "make sure Tom has company here."