A glacial wind was blowing across the plains, howling like a pack of wolves, their invisible fangs ready to bite any creature that was wandering in the snowy lands. There weren't many of those, however, for only the strongest could survive in these harsh terrains. It was nighttime, which meant that the monsters were out hunting, and the rest were hiding from them. The moon was shedding its pale light into the world below, making it easier for the beasts to find their prey, but also those who were afraid could be guided by the heavenly light. The stars were shining brightly in the sky, like great diamonds, and the sight was quite compelling and beautiful. There's always some beauty even in the darkest and hostile places.

Thyren was walking determinedly through the cold lands, carrying his sword on his shoulder. The wind was trying its best to bite him, but it couldn't really penetrate his clothing that covered his whole body, even his face as he was wearing an owl mask. Angrily, the breeze was clinging onto his cape made of feathers and caused it to flutter. Thyren didn't care about this at all, the wind couldn't harm him like some other beings, and so he kept marching on.

He was a tall man, toughened by many battles in the past. He had a very powerful aura around him, which made even some of the monsters thinking twice before trying to attack him. Even on night like this, his lone figure was the only thing visible in the plains below the stars. Some creatures would dare to approach him, but he would strike down any foe. He had been practically fighting his whole life, in some form or another. He was born under the northern sky and only the mightiest could endure the hardships of these lands. Thyren had fought most of his life just for himself, but now he had a new purpose, doing it for the sake of his beloved goddess.

Once he suffered a horrid wound by the sword of an enemy. He triumphed, in the end, but he was bleeding quite badly. Was this the end of my story, he had thought. That was when the goddess appeared in front of him for the first time. She was a beautiful woman with black hair and black wings on her back, and her eyes had the color of fire. She healed him and from that day on, Thyren served her with utmost loyalty. As a sign of their contract, he has now blazed eyes as well. His heart is filled with love for his goddess and he's willing to offer as much blood as she desires.

Seeking for blood sacrifices, Thyren would wander from place to place. Crossing these cold plains was just another journey to him, but it seemed that it wasn't as safe and uneventful as he had first thought it to be. A sudden snowstorm brewed up, causing him to stop for a brief moment as the wind violently grabbed his clothes. He could hear roars from the eye of the storm, so he lowers his sword, ready for yet another fight. The storm subsides just as abruptly as it had appeared, and now Thyren was facing two ferocious feline beasts. Their fur was white like the snow and they had black stripes all over their bodies. The most notable trait was that they were saber-toothed, ready to be sunk into his flesh. But Thyren feels no fear. He is prepared to spill blood.

The beasts are slowly getting closer to him as the wind howls around them, like a narrator of a play. Their presence is hostile and they start to circle around the lone man. Thyren follows their movements with his gaze, staying calm and still, ready to strike at any moment. Then, one of the beasts made its move, leaping at him, attempting to slash him with its sharp claws. Skillfully Thyren dodges out of the way, preparing his own attack, slitting the throat of the beast; the cut is deep and dyes the snow red. The creature falls to the ground, where it would stay forever. Now its brother is mad for its fate, and seeks for revenge. In a rage, it dashes towards the man and wants to tear him apart, so it tries the same move as its fallen brother. The attack misses, again, and Thyren gets ready to unleash his counter attack. But the beast makes a sudden, unexpected action, as it turns right back at the man after the previous attempt to slash him, moving so incredibly fast that Thyren could barely react to it in time. He did manage to swing his sword with great force, striking the beast at its neck, almost beheading the creature. However, as its last act, the beast was able to slash the man at his side, tearing his skin. Its lifeless body fell to the snowy ground, where it would lie together with its brother.

Two more blood sacrifices for the goddess.

Thyren stared at his fallen enemies. Once again, the victory was his, even if it came with a price. His hand got drawn to his side where the claws had left their bloody marks. He touched his wounds, then raised his hand to look at the fresh blood that was now staining him. His side was burning with pain, but it didn't bother him much, for he had learned to endure agony. There wasn't really much he could do now, and the wounds weren't fatal, so he just decided to continue his journey.

As he was walking forward, his mind was occupied by something. He wondered what had called forth those beasts to get in the way of his travel. He could sense a greater power lingering in the cold air. Something had wanted to stop him for a reason he didn't know. And in the end, it wasn't his place to question the ways of deities. He was just a loyal servant of his goddess.

He could see a tree line in the distance, even trough the veiling gusts of snow. It gave him some sort of sense of accomplishment as there was something in sight instead of the endless plains, that he was actually making progress. However, he could feel his wounds hindering him. The ache, the bleeding, it was making him weak; these weren't ordinary wounds, he was sure of it. He had got injured so many times during his warrior life that he knew what pain feels like. It seems that the feline beast managed to hurt him more than he had first thought. But he had to press on, he had to get to the woods where he could rest for a while. Out here in the plains he was getting mauled by the relentless cold wind that would gnaw at his bleeding wounds. He needed shelter from it.

Step by step he was making it closer to the woods. The journey towards it was a weary task, but Thyren was a strong individual, even in his weakened state. Even though it felt like a forever, the man eventually made it to the refuge of the trees. He did glance back at the plains he had just crossed, but soon turned around and left it all in the past. He kept moving forward, going deeper into the woods, eager to find a place where he could rest for a moment.

Thyren could faintly feel a presence of something strong approaching, like something was trying to manifest into the cold world where he was currently wandering. It felt a little frightening, but also very familiar. The man recognized it almost immediately; it was the presence of his goddess. Her form wasn't firm, yet, but he could feel her following his steps through the wintery woods. A shadowy figure was chasing after him, gliding above the snow. Thyren was sure that the goddess had sensed what had happened to him, called forth by his blood, and she was now attempting to enter this realm. As he weaved his way through the forest, her shadow remained behind him, and step by step her presence became more and more steady. Dark feathers started to fall from the sky, dancing around the man, disappearing when they touched the pure white snow. She was almost here.

Then he could see it. A little cave, engraved into a black rock. That was exactly what he was looking for. It hadn't been easy to wander while suffering from pain and bleeding, and even though he had got weakened, he could still muster strength to carry on. Only few more steps, then he could rest. The wind still howling and swirling around him, he took his last heavy steps towards the cave, eventually disappearing into its mouth. He walked deeper and deeper, away from the freezing breeze, but not away from the cold. He marched inside to the black guts of the cave, until he couldn't move anymore and he tumbled down, leaning against a boulder. The man was panting heavily, and his hand got drawn to wounds inflicted by the beast, confirming that he was still losing blood. Then he let his hand fall down and finally allowed himself some time to just rest.

But little did he know that this would be where he would rest for an eternity.

The feathers were still appearing and disappearing. The shade of the goddess had grown darker. The shadowy figure was standing in front of the man and at first, Thyren didn't really pay much attention to it. The shadows just stood there, watching, not moving. But the familiar presence was getting stronger, and Thyren could feel his heart beating faster, for the one he loved the most in this world was getting near. It gave him a slight feeling of calmness, and his breathing slowed down as well. The air around the shade began to ripple, then a pair of fiery eyes appeared in the figure's head. Finally, a set of wings emerged onto the shadow's back and in a flurry of black feathers, a solid form of a beautiful woman took the place where the shadowy figure had stood just a moment ago. Everything was black in her – her hair, dress, wings – except her pale skin and blazing eyes. She was a stunning sight, radiating both power and grace. Thyren couldn't take his eyes off of her, and as the goddess smiled gently, he felt like all his pain and worries would disappear.

The goddess took few graceful steps toward Thyren and then bended down before him. Her petite hand wandered around his body, until it came to the bleeding wounds. Gently she touched them, but her touch didn't hurt. She shifted her gaze at her warrior, slowly taking off his owl mask. As his face got revealed, the goddess saw that he didn't have blaze in his eyes anymore. The fire that had burned inside the man had got extinguished. The goddess brought her face closer to his and their lips met – she gave him one last loving kiss. Thyren closed his eyes, not opening them ever again. At the same time, the goddess was taking blood from his body through her hand, a few streams of blood flowing upwards, joining in her veins. She took all the red nectar of life she wanted; it was the last gift from her loyal warrior that had took it as his reason to live to serve her.

Their lips departed and they wouldn't meet ever again. The goddess looked at the brave man, running her hand around his face; he was quite handsome man. He had stopped breathing, now he was finally able to rest after all these years he had spent fighting. It had been a good life; he wouldn't have changed it even if he could. The goddess knew this, and this is why she had granted him peace.

Slowly the goddess stood up. Her gaze wandered around her warrior for a brief moment before she turned around and began to leave the cave. In the middle of walking away, she got engulfed by a puff of black feathers, vanishing into the air, leaving behind the man that would now sleep forever.