Chapter 2 – Echoes of the Past

  Snowfkes drifted zily from the grey sky, settling on Viktor’s tattered cloak as he trudged forward. Each breath curled into the air in thin, misty wisps, vanishing as quickly as it came. His legs ached, each step crunching against the frozen ground, but stopping was not an option. Not when his father’s final words still echoed in his mind.

  *Find your grandfather. Tell him what happened. *

  The forest stretched endlessly around him, a vast, whispering void of pines and ice. The silence felt unnatural, pressing in on him like an unseen force. His fingers curled into fists. His home was gone. His mother’s ughter, his father’s strength, all of it buried beneath the snow.

  But somewhere ahead, Kaavi was waiting.

  Viktor’s vision blurred with exhaustion when he finally spotted the cabin—a solitary structure, half-hidden by the trees. Smoke curled from the chimney, the scent of burning wood cutting through the crisp air. Relief flooded him, but it came ced with hesitation.

  For a moment, he simply stood there, staring.

  Then, before he could summon the courage to knock, the door creaked open.

  A man stood in the doorway, tall and lean, his features etched by time and battle. His sharp brown eyes studied Viktor, not with surprise, but with quiet knowing. His presence carried an air of control—steady, unshaken by the cold or the weight of whatever knowledge y behind his gaze. Though age had silvered his temples and etched lines into his face, his posture betrayed no frailty. He moved like water over stone, deliberate and unyielding.

  “You’re te,” Kaavi said, voice even.

  Viktor blinked. He hadn’t spoken a word.

  The old man stepped aside, allowing the warmth of the cabin to spill out. “Come in, boy. The cold will do you no Favor’s.”

  ---

  Inside, the fire crackled softly, casting golden light over wooden walls lined with shelves of parchment and vials of dried herbs. The heat seeped into Viktor’s bones, thawing the numbness that had settled in his limbs.

  Kaavi guided him to a seat near the hearth and crouched beside him. His eyes lingered on the bloodstained bandage wrapped around Viktor’s right eye.

  “Let me see,” he murmured.

  “A scratch,” Kaavi murmured. “The bde missed the eye. Luck, or…” He trailed off, studying Viktor’s face.

  “Or what?” Viktor whispered.

  Kaavi’s gaze sharpened. “Or your father’s stubbornness.”

  He pressed a hand to Viktor’s brow.

  Viktor hesitated but didn’t pull away. The old man’s hands were steady, his touch practiced. The wound had begun to clot, but the jagged cut would leave a scar. Kaavi exhaled quietly, retrieving a fresh strip of linen.

  “It will heal,” he said. “The pain will dull with time.”

  Viktor wasn’t sure if he meant the wound or something else.

  As Kaavi worked, he pced a hand lightly on Viktor’s head, closing his eyes. The moment stretched, silent and heavy.

  Then, Viktor *felt* it. A strange sensation, like a breeze stirring in the depths of his mind. Images flickered—his father’s st stand, the hooded men, his mother’s fading breath. His chest tightened.

  Kaavi opened his eyes, his expression unreadable.

  “You carry much sorrow,” he said at st. “And many questions.”

  Viktor swallowed; his throat dry. “How… how did you do that?”

  Kaavi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat across from Viktor, pcing his hands on his knees. “There are those in this world who possess gifts,” he finally said. “Some call it magic. Some call it a curse.” His gaze held Viktor’s. “For our family, it is a responsibility.”

  Viktor shifted in his seat. “You can hear my thoughts?”

  Kaavi’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “ I hear only echoes—the ripples of emotion you do not yet know how to hide.”

  Viktor gnced at the fire, watching the embers glow and pulse like a heartbeat. “Can I learn?”

  Kaavi regarded him carefully. “Perhaps,” he said. “But first, there is something we must do.”

  ---

  The sun was beginning to sink by the time they arrived at the ruins of Viktor’s home. The once-cozy cabin stood silent, its walls scorched from the struggle, its door hanging open like a mouth frozen in a scream.

  Viktor’s stomach twisted.

  Kaavi said nothing as he moved through the snow, gathering wood, arranging it with precision. He worked swiftly, efficiently, but with a reverence that made Viktor’s chest tighten.

  Finally, Sasha and Artur were id upon the pyre. Their forms looked almost peaceful, despite the cruel reality of their deaths.

  Kaavi handed Viktor a torch. The fmes wavered in the evening breeze, waiting.

  “It is time,” Kaavi said.

  Viktor’s fingers tightened around the wood. His throat burned; his body frozen in pce. He thought of his father’s voice, his mother’s hands smoothing his hair, the ughter that once filled this space.

  A part of him wanted to turn away.

  But he didn’t.

  With a deep breath, he stepped forward and lowered the torch.

  Fire licked at the wood, spreading hungrily. The heat surged, crackling against the cold, and within moments, the fmes roared to life.

  Viktor didn’t move. He watched as the fire consumed the st pieces of his childhood, smoke rising into the night sky.

  Kaavi pced a hand on his shoulder. “They are free now,” he murmured.

  Viktor wasn’t sure if he believed that. Not yet.

  As the embers smouldered and the night grew darker, he felt something else stirring inside him—something deeper than grief, quieter than rage.

  A small, steady ember.

  Not yet a fire.

  But one day, it would burn.

  ---

  Kaavi led him back to the cabin in silence. The warmth inside felt different now—less like comfort, more like a waiting pce. A beginning.

  As Viktor sat near the hearth, Kaavi settled beside him. “You are strong,” he said. “Your father knew it. Your mother knew it.”

  Viktor looked down at his hands, curling them into fists. “And you?”

  Kaavi’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before he nodded.

  “Yes,” he said. “You will learn. And when the time comes, you will be ready.”

  Viktor didn’t ask what *ready* meant. Not yet.

  Instead, he simply watched the fire, listening to the quiet hum of the night, and let the weight of his new life settle around him.