Northern automatically became accepted amongst the strange munity of White Walkers.
He was referred to as Teacher and was not one by name alone; almost everyone in the settlement came to him in need of something.
When he spoke, they listened.
It was as if they turned to him for some sort of sage advice, and this happened because of only one reason.
Their leader bowed before this person.
For the first few days of being there, Northern oversaw Raven’s recovery.
It was amazing how skilled these creatures could be. Even though they clearly didn’t need it, they could weave thick cloaks that shielded one from the cold.
Northern suspected that the materials for these clothes were likely harvested from cottons that had developed resistance to the harsh environment and climate conditions of this realm.
As such, it seemed like the cloaks themselves were imbued with cold resistance abilities.
One was made for Northern and Raven, so he felt the need to stop walking around in his dark, scary armor.
Raven got better, but it was difficult for her to accept the reality that played out before her.
A settlement of monsters that meant no harm.
She was probably finally relating to what Northern had said to her a while back, but sadly, he was not usually around for her to discuss it.
Days had definitely passed.
Unlike Northern’s first rift, this one had night and day, although one could not be very sure of the hours in between.
Raven sometimes tried to keep note, but she discovered that they were not consistent. She was either making mistakes with her count, or this was just one of the rift’s irregularities.
But then again, there was no Northern to discuss these things with.
The white-haired kid had bee a tutor at such an early age.
Northern, for once, was glad that his intelligence had some good use.
Even though he didn’t formally learn the monster tongue, he still could teach as if he had.
He could not only properly convey the pronunciation of words but also could formulate how best they probably could be written.
Since this was a civilization that was thrown far back, Northern would use a twig to write in the snow as he taught the little Ulzred.
The boy king, on the other hand, was a very receptive and obedient one.
He had piles of schedules awaiting him, so Northern usually had limited time to spend with him.
And when he left him, other White Walkers, male and female, would gather around him to learn.
Raven oftentimes would find him in the center of an enormous gathering, teaching them about runes and proper pronunciation of words.
To them, he was almost like a revered religious leader. Even sometimes when she watched, that was how he seemed.
She would have loved to join his classes many times, but she refused.
Raven particularly was worried about what semblance of humanity would be left in her should she decide to learn a monster tongue.
That is, even outweighing the question of "would it be possible for a human to learn?"
How did Northern learn it? Or was he just special enough?
She believed in the latter. But she also thought it was the reason why Northern was finding so much difficulty in what should be simple and mon sense.
Because he could relate with them so much.
She tried to imagine how living with monsters for about six months would have been.
Now, she couldn’t help but understand how naive, placent he was.
He probably was a kid that lived in the embrace of his parents all day long, suddenly thrown into a rift and having to survive amidst monsters for six months.
Only a select few would have made it out and be sane, acting as expected while still being outrightly calculating and sensible in all manners whatsoever.
If Northern had turned out to be like that, then it would have made him too good to be true.
When she took an objective stance on the kind of person he was and the way he acted inside this rift, she couldn’t help but feel like Northern was inplete outside the rift.
In here... he looked so at home.
It was a strange thought that crossed her mind, but it really did look like that.
Even though he was swarmed with different activities, the guy didn’t seem to mind the fact that they were in a rift.
Which was why she knew it was up to her; she was the last semblance of humanity that was left between both of them.
This rift was here for a reason; they needed to find the guardian and the rift core... and kill it.
She just hoped that would be possible without... her somber gaze fell on the people.
The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth; she looked away and walked on.
After a while, night fell. Raven was inside the provisional ice cottage that had been made available for her.
She sat on the wooden crafted bed with her legs crossed, her eyes closed, and her hands rested on her thighs.
She seemed to be meditating.
The blue glow from the frozen stick that stood on the side table, seemingly carved directly out of ice, slowly flickered, as if shivering with the subtle and seemingly harmless blow of the wind.
She stayed in that position for a while, then she opened her eyes and just slumped on the bed.
Staring at the blue, frozen ceiling for a while, then she muttered:
"It’s peaceful... too peaceful."
Slowly, her eyes closed peacefully. Raven embraced sleep and began snoring a couple of minutes later.
However, she heard a voice.
"Raven... Raven... Raven...."
That voice, she couldn’t be mistaken about it; that was Terence’s!
"Terence, is that you?" She quickly sprang up, looking around the room, but she couldn’t find anyone.
However, she was sure she had heard Terence’s voice.
The voice then resounded once more.
"Listen well, Raven... this is about the place I walked to the last time when we were traveling."
Raven narrowed her eyes.
She had demanded about that, but the Oracle decided to stay silent. Raven, of course, usually does not force her to speak unless she wanted to.
The fact that she’s ing to Raven now must mean there is something about where she had gone that has to do with their current predicament.
And Terence probably knew about it, which was why she didn’t say anything before now.
Does that mean she knew that she and Northern would enter a rift?
There was no way to know how much Terence really knew.
But Raven was sure she was a walking trove of information. However, it was incredibly hard to get even an iota of that information out of her.
And it was totally understandable because there were consequences for every secretive word or knowledge she spilled.
The Oracle’s voice resounded once again:
"Are you there, Raven? I want you to pay rapt attention to this instruction."
Raven frowned slightly but nodded.
"Take the boy king and flee. You must convince Northern; this cannot be successful without him. If Northern does not consent to it, both of you will die. Tell him you need to take the boy king and find Sura using the green light in the sky. Those green lights will lead you directly to Sura."
Raven’s frown deepened slightly.
Her words were sounding like a lot of trouble. If Northern does not consent to it, both of them would die?
What was happening?
"Terence, what is..."
Before she could plete the sentence, however, she jolted out of her sleep, her eyes widening fully.
All the while... she thought she was awake.
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