Capítulo 3: Chapter 03: The Shipwright’s Challenge
The biting wind of the Farlands had grown even more vicious as Kaden and Geralt pushed deeper into the frozen wilderness. The snow, thick and relentless, seemed to swallow the world around them, leaving little more than a white haze stretching endlessly across the horizon.
Every step Kaden took felt heavier, as if the land itself was trying to pull him back. His muscles ached, stiffened by the cold, but he kept moving. He had to. There was no turning back now.
Beside him, Geralt walked with steady determination, his face set in that same grim, focused expression Kaden had come to expect from him. The Witcher was accustomed to harsh environments, but even he seemed unnerved by the suffocating cold and the way the world around them felt almost... alive.
"How much farther?" Kaden asked, his voice muffled by the thick scarf wrapped around his face.
Geralt didn't answer immediately, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon. He pointed ahead, toward a faint outline barely visible through the blizzard. It was a squat, stone building, low to the ground, with smoke rising faintly from its chimney.
"There," Geralt said simply.
Kaden nodded, his fingers tightening around the Wyrd Compass in his pocket. He could feel its faint pulse of energy, like a heartbeat, guiding him forward.
As they approached the building, Kaden's mind wandered back to the conversation he'd had with the settlement elder before they had set out. The man had been kind enough to offer him shelter when he'd first arrived in the Farlands, but his words had been filled with warnings about the dangers of the land—and about the man they were now seeking.
---
Flashback Scene: The Elder's Warning
After the battle with the ice beast, back when Kaden had still been in the settlement, the elder had offered some cryptic advice over a dying fire.
"If you're lookin' to get out of the Farlands," the old man had said, staring into the flames, "there's only one man who can help you. Boros. He's a shipwright—an old one, and half-mad, by the sound of it. But he builds ships like no one else."
Kaden had leaned in closer. "Where can I find him?"
The elder had shrugged. "He's deep in the wilderness, farther than most would dare to go. Lives alone, with nothin' but the cold and his tools. No one who's gone to see him has ever come back—either because they couldn't survive the journey, or because Boros turned them away. But if you're desperate enough, he might just help you."
---
Now, standing before Boros's home, Kaden could feel the weight of those words pressing down on him. They had come this far, but what if Boros refused to help them? What if the elder had been wrong?
"There's only one way to find out," Kaden muttered to himself as he pushed open the heavy wooden door.
The warmth inside was immediate and overwhelming. A roaring fire crackled in a large hearth against the far wall, casting long shadows across the cluttered workshop. Tools and materials were scattered everywhere—hammers, chisels, wood planks, and iron bars. It smelled of sawdust and smoke, a welcome contrast to the icy world outside.
At the center of the room sat a man—Boros.
He was older than Kaden had expected, with a thick white beard and gnarled hands that looked as if they'd spent decades shaping wood and metal. His eyes were sharp, though, and he didn't look up as they entered. Instead, he continued working on a piece of wood, his movements slow and methodical.
For a moment, there was only silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. Then Boros finally spoke, his voice gravelly and low.
"You've come a long way," Boros said without looking up. "Not many make it this far."
Kaden took a step forward. "We need your help."
Boros grunted but didn't stop working. "You're not the first to ask. And you won't be the last. What makes you think I'll help you?"
Kaden hesitated. He had no idea how to answer that. What could they offer a man like Boros? Geralt remained silent beside him, his eyes flicking around the room, no doubt sizing up both Boros and the space for potential dangers.
Before Kaden could speak, Boros finally looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing as they flicked between Kaden and Geralt. His gaze lingered on Kaden's hand, where the faint glow of the Wyrd Compass was visible through his cloak.
"That compass," Boros muttered, his eyes narrowing further. "I've seen its kind before."
Kaden's heart skipped a beat. "You have?"
Boros stood slowly, setting the wood aside. "Aye. It's old—ancient, even. Dangerous. Whoever holds that thing has no business messing with forces they can't control."
Kaden swallowed hard, tucking the compass back into his cloak. "It brought us here. Now we need a way out. We need a ship."
Boros let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "A ship, eh? And you think I'm just going to build you one?"
"I was told you were the only one who could," Kaden said, trying to keep his voice steady. "The elder back in the settlement said you've built ships for people before."
Boros grunted. "The elder, huh? He's still alive? Hmph. I thought the cold would've taken him by now."
Geralt finally spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "If you know about the compass, then you know why we need to leave this place. We don't have time to waste."
Boros eyed Geralt for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. "I can build you a ship," he said slowly. "But it won't come cheap. And it won't be easy."
Kaden felt a surge of hope. "What do you want in exchange?"
Boros grinned, though there was no warmth in it. "There's something I need. An artifact, buried deep in the heart of the Farlands. It's in an old temple, frozen in time, like everything else out there."
Kaden frowned. "What kind of artifact?"
Boros turned and walked to a large, tattered map on the wall. He traced his finger over it, pointing to a spot near the center of the Farlands. "They say it was forged in the days before this land became a frozen wasteland. It's powerful—so powerful that the cold can't touch it. But it's also dangerous. Very few have ever dared to go after it. None have returned."
Kaden glanced at Geralt, who gave him a slight nod, indicating he was on board.
"We'll retrieve it," Kaden said, though his voice was filled with uncertainty.
Boros chuckled again. "Brave words, boy. But remember this—when you find that artifact, you'll understand why those who've come before never returned. It has a way of getting into your head. Don't let it consume you."
The air grew colder the farther Kaden and Geralt traveled from Boros's workshop. The snow came down in heavier waves, and the landscape around them became more treacherous. Jagged ice formations jutted out of the ground like teeth, and the wind howled as if the land itself was alive, eager to devour them.
Kaden pulled his cloak tighter around him, his breath visible in the freezing air. The Wyrd Compass pulsed steadily in his hand, guiding them forward, but every step felt heavier, as though something unseen was trying to hold him back.
"How are you holding up?" Geralt asked, his voice low but steady.
Kaden glanced at him, noting how the Witcher seemed almost unaffected by the cold. "I'm managing."
Geralt gave a small grunt of approval, though he kept his eyes on the horizon. "This place feels... wrong."
Kaden nodded. He could feel it too. The further they ventured into the heart of the Farlands, the more oppressive the cold became. It wasn't just the physical cold, though—it was something deeper, something that felt as though it was pressing down on his very soul.
The compass pulsed again, and Kaden tightened his grip on it. "We're close."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled.
Both men stopped, their instincts on high alert. Geralt's hand went to the hilt of his sword, and Kaden felt the familiar stirring of cold in his chest. They didn't need to exchange words to know that something was coming.
The snow in front of them shifted, and then, with a deafening crack, the ground erupted. A massive creature burst forth from the snow, its body covered in thick, jagged ice. It moved with surprising speed for something so large, its glowing blue eyes locked on them as it let out a bone-rattling roar.
"Stay sharp!" Geralt shouted, drawing his sword in one fluid motion.
The ice creature towered over them, its jagged form glinting in the dim light that filtered through the snowstorm. Its breath came out in clouds of frost, and the ground trembled with every step it took. It was like a walking glacier, with limbs made of solid ice and eyes glowing a fierce blue, filled with a malevolent, primal hunger.
Kaden's heart pounded in his chest as he instinctively backed away, his hand clutching the Compass. The cold inside him stirred, his power bubbling to the surface, but he struggled to keep it under control. His body still hadn't fully recovered from the last battle, and the cold was stronger here, more oppressive, as though the land itself was trying to wear him down.
Geralt's eyes never left the creature. His sword was raised, his posture calm and steady despite the looming threat. "Kaden," he said, his voice low and controlled. "Focus. We take this thing down together."
Kaden nodded, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He could feel the black frost beginning to spread from his fingertips, twisting and curling like dark smoke in the freezing air. He was getting better at calling on his powers, but control was still an issue. If he wasn't careful, the ice would consume him again.
The creature roared, its massive arms rising as it prepared to strike. The sound echoed across the frozen wasteland, a deep, guttural growl that sent a shiver down Kaden's spine. Without hesitation, it charged.
"Move!" Geralt shouted.
Kaden barely had time to react. He dove to the side, rolling through the snow as the creature's arm crashed down where he had been standing. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, sending chunks of ice and snow flying into the air.
Geralt was already in motion. He darted forward with the speed and precision of a predator, his sword flashing as he aimed for the creature's exposed flank. The blade struck true, but it barely made a dent in the creature's thick, ice-covered hide.
"Damn thing's tough!" Geralt growled as he leaped back to avoid the creature's swinging arm.
Kaden struggled to his feet, his pulse racing. He could feel the cold inside him, a storm of power waiting to be unleashed, but he hesitated. His last encounter with his powers had nearly overwhelmed him, and the heart of the Farlands was only amplifying the ice, making it harder to control.
The creature swung its arm again, this time aiming for Geralt. The Witcher was fast, sidestepping the attack with ease, but the creature was relentless, its massive form moving faster than something of its size should have been able to.
"We're going to need to hit it harder," Geralt said, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Any bright ideas?"
Kaden clenched his fists, his breath visible in the freezing air. "I'll try to freeze it. But you need to distract it."
Geralt gave a quick nod. "I'll keep it busy. Don't take too long."
Without another word, Geralt dashed forward, his sword gleaming as he swung at the creature again. The blade clanged off the ice with a sharp crack, but it was enough to draw the creature's attention. It turned toward Geralt with a snarl, swiping at him with one massive arm.
Kaden took a deep breath, focusing on the cold inside him. He could feel it, swirling just beneath his skin, begging to be released. He raised his hand, and the black frost began to spread, curling through the air like smoke. His entire arm was now encased in ice, sharp tendrils of black frost radiating from his fingertips.
'Focus,' Kaden told himself. He had to keep control.
The creature let out another roar as it swung at Geralt, but the Witcher was too fast, dodging the blow with ease. Kaden took his chance. He thrust his hand forward, and the black ice surged from him, twisting and coiling through the air as it raced toward the creature.
The frost struck the creature's legs first, encasing them in a thick layer of black ice. The creature roared in fury, thrashing as the frost spread up its body, locking it in place. Its movements became sluggish, the cold sapping its strength as the black frost continued to spread.
"Now!" Kaden shouted, his voice strained from the effort.
Geralt didn't hesitate. He darted forward, his sword flashing as he slashed at the creature's frozen legs. The blade bit deep this time, shattering the ice and sending cracks spider-webbing across the creature's form.
The creature roared in pain, its movements growing more frantic as it tried to free itself from the ice. But Kaden wasn't done. He gritted his teeth, focusing all his energy on the black frost, willing it to spread faster, to consume the creature completely.
The ice responded to his call, surging up the creature's body in jagged, twisting shards. The cold was almost overwhelming now, pressing down on Kaden like a weight on his chest, but he pushed through it, refusing to lose control.
With a final, ear-splitting roar, the creature's entire body was encased in black ice. Its massive form was frozen solid, a towering monument of frost and cold in the middle of the frozen wasteland.
Kaden fell to his knees, gasping for breath. The black frost slowly receded from his hands, the cold inside him settling once more. His body ached, his muscles trembling from the strain, but he had done it. He had controlled the ice.
Geralt approached slowly, his sword still drawn, his eyes scanning the frozen creature for any signs of movement. When he was satisfied that it wasn't going to break free, he sheathed his sword and gave Kaden a nod.
"Not bad," Geralt said, his voice calm. "You're getting better at controlling it."
Kaden let out a breathless laugh, wiping sweat from his brow. "Barely. That thing nearly wiped me out."
Geralt shrugged. "Could've been worse."
Kaden chuckled despite the exhaustion. "I guess you're right."
The two of them stood there for a moment, catching their breath. The wind howled around them, but the cold felt different now, less oppressive. Kaden could feel the weight of the Farlands pressing down on him, but it was weaker than before. They were getting closer to the heart of the land, where the artifact waited.
"We should keep moving," Geralt said after a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon. "The artifact isn't going to find itself."
Kaden nodded, though his body still ached from the battle. "Yeah. Let's go."
Together, they set off once more, leaving the frozen remains of the ice creature behind them. The wind picked up again, but Kaden could feel the faint pulse of the Compass in his hand, guiding them forward.
"We're close," Kaden muttered, more to himself than to Geralt. "I can feel it."
The snow around them swirled in chaotic patterns, and the ground beneath their feet felt harder, more brittle. As they ventured further, the landscape began to shift. The jagged ice formations became taller, more intricate, like frozen sculptures carved by an ancient hand. The temperature dropped even further, biting at their skin despite their heavy cloaks.
Kaden's breaths came out in short puffs of visible air. His muscles were sore, his limbs stiff from the cold, but his resolve was stronger than ever. They had come this far, and there was no turning back now.
As they crested a small hill, the world opened up before them, revealing a sight that took Kaden's breath away.
In the distance, nestled between two towering mountains of ice, stood a massive temple, its walls covered in thick layers of frost and snow. It looked ancient, untouched by time, as if it had been waiting for them to arrive.
"The heart of the Farlands," Geralt muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the temple. "That's where the artifact is."
Kaden nodded, his pulse quickening. "Let's finish this."
The two of them made their way down the hill, the temple looming ever closer with each step. Kaden's heart raced, not from fear, but from anticipation. He could feel the weight of the artifact pulling at him, drawing him in.
Whatever lay inside that temple would be the key to their escape from the Farlands. But Kaden couldn't shake the feeling that it was also something far more dangerous than either of them could imagine.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
NotYggdra
NotYggdra Alright everyone, the first 20 chapters are already in draft form and will be released in the coming days. I'll try to upload the chapters as quickly as possible so you can get a better picture of the story. Up until chapter 20, there will be 2 more 'summonings,' so stay tuned!
Leave some Stones and Comments ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
~Cheers
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder