That was the only way that Te’oma could remember his mother – sad, afraid and always cold. Damon, Te’oma’s father, would always follow a little way behind them to keep an eye out for any danger.

The gusting wind was especially bitter on this day. The snow blasted in sideways as if it were slapping them in the face, telling them they were not welcome.

It had snowed in these lands for so long that the people had forgotten the touch of soft, green grass on a warm spring day. The mountains that surrounded them were obscured from sight by gloomy clouds. The parts of the mountains you could see were so buried in snow that they blended in with the clouds.

The trees that had once covered these lands had all but disappeared, leaving but a few dead branches poking out of the snow as bitter reminders of days gone by.

The sun was slowly starting to sink into the clouds behind the mountains. The days were barely warm enough to endure and the nights were excruciatingly cold.

Damon had moved ahead and was making camp for the long night. He had done this countless nights before and had become very efficient. He dug a clearing in the snow and built up a snow wall around them like an open igloo. He stretched a thick, woollen blanket over the top to stop the howling wind and rain from getting in.

Soon, a gentle fire crackled away at the centre of their makeshift hut, but the heat was barely enough to melt the snow that surrounded them. Still, Te’oma and Damon huddled as close as they could to the fireplace, rubbing their hands together for warmth. Gaia sat away from them, staring into the snow. Her eyes were vacant, her body as cold as ice, yet she did not shiver. The cold did not bother her anymore.

“Come join us, Mum,” said Te’oma hopefully. Gaia sat unmoved by her child’s request.

“Leave her be, Te’oma. It’s been a long day,” said Damon.

Damon could not bring himself to see the truth. The woman he had loved for as long as he could remember was gone; the cold had taken her. All that was left was a shell of this once beautiful, radiant woman.

The long, dark night was slowly broken by the sun peeking its way through the gaps of their hut. The light flickered in Te’oma’s eyes. He sat up and yawned as he stretched his arms. Damon and Gaia were already up, surveying the area for danger. It did not pay to sleep too long these days.

“We must move. We cannot linger here,” said Damon, wrapping the blanket into a neat little package.

Gaia held Te’oma’s hand as they walked through the snow.

“Where are we going, Mum?” asked Te’oma. They had been walking for so long that he’d forgotten why.

“We have to head south,” said Gaia, “where it’s still warm.”

“How do you know it’s still warm, Mum?” asked Te’oma.

Suddenly, a terrifying scream came from Damon.

“Run!” he yelled. “Run!” He bounded through the snow towards Te’oma and Gaia. In one swift motion he whipped Te’oma out of the snow and threw him over his shoulder. He grabbed Gaia by the hand and pulled her forwards with a fierce jolt.

Leaping gracefully through the snow, only a few moments behind them, was a single death hound, bringer of death. Fiercely loyal animals, they do their master’s bidding without question.

Their eyes are cold like their souls, their teeth razor sharp. They have thick fur to protect them from the snow, not that they need it with the ice running through their veins.

The death hound stopped and sniffed the air. It had caught their scent and it snarled in delight, saliva dripping from its mouth as two more death hounds appeared beside it.

The hounds burst into action and headed towards Te’oma and his family.

Damon, Gaia and Te’oma ran through the snow as fast as their weary legs could take them. They reached a section of the forest that was still alive. The snowy ground gave way to muddy dirt.

They ran and ran through the trees, not daring to rest. They reached a clearing in the forest. Standing in the middle of the clearing was a glimmering, round silver platform with a smooth golden pole protruding out of the centre.

They ran up to the platform, but their hearts sank. Just past the platform was a massive gorge. It must have been at least twenty feet across and the bottom could not be seen through the thick fog below. The hounds had covered all sides, blocking their escape. They walked towards Te’oma and his family, almost toying with their prey.

Damon took Te’oma off his shoulders and put him down on the ground. Damon kneeled down and put his hand on Te’oma’s arm.

“My son,” he said, with a lump in his throat, “I hoped that I would have had more time to explain things to you.”

Te’oma looked at his father with tears in his eyes.

Gaia stared out into the forest.

“Mum!” cried Te’oma.

Gaia continued to look out into the distance.

“Your mother loves you, Te’oma. These lands have robbed her of her heart and she cannot express it anymore, but know that we both love you. You must always hold onto hope, my boy. That is why we march day and night. That is why the creatures hunt us; they fear what our free hearts are capable of.”

Damon reached out to touch Te’oma’s face and looked him deep in the eyes, “Promise me you will never lose hope.”

Te’oma nodded his head and began to cry uncontrollably.

“Promise me,” said Damon in a panic.

“I promise, Father. I promise I will never lose hope.”

“Good,” said Damon as he stood up. He gently kissed Te’oma on the head, then leant down and put his arms around his son “This is very important. You must find a mountain. It’s a mountain without cloud or snow. Find it and you will find the last of the seven. Only he can tell you how to free the Intari. You must free the Intari. Good luck my son. I love you.”

The hounds began to circle around the family, snapping and snarling.

Damon grabbed Te’oma by the back of his clothes and spun him round and round, gathering momentum. The hounds dashed towards them. Then, with one mighty heave, Damon threw Te’oma across the gorge and into the fog beyond.

Te’oma slammed into the ground on the other side of the gorge with a thud. His face, arms and legs were cut and bruised as he slid along the sharp, compacted snow. He picked himself up, cradled his banged-up arm and scurried behind the nearest tree. He curled up in a ball and blocked his ears. “Never lose hope, never lose hope,” he said to himself over and over, as the hounds howled with delight in the distance.

***

The hours passed and the snow had virtually covered Te’oma from head to toe. The fury of the hounds had ceased. His tears had turned to ice crystals below his eyes.

The ever-persistent snow had begun to ease. Te’oma finally found the energy to raise his head from his hands to look up at the world. The clouds were beginning to dissipate before his eyes. The fog surrounding him was thinning and the ground was becoming visible. He looked back across the gorge, but there was nothing to see.

Te’oma stood at the edge of the gorge, looking in vain for his parents. All he could see was snow. He looked in the opposite direction. The cloud and fog having cleared, he could finally see the tremendous mountains that enveloped the valley. The small trees that surrounded the gorge gave way to giant pine trees that stood firm against the wretched weather.

Te’oma took a deep breath. Shivering with both cold and fear, he took one last look back. He trudged forward through the snow. He had no idea where he was heading, but he knew he must keep moving. Always keep moving.

The clouds above quickly regathered as the thunder roared and driving rain hammered him. Te’oma pulled his jacket tightly around himself and forged his way into the forest.

“What is lost is never truly gone, as long as it lives in our hearts.”

Chapter 2

Alone

Te’oma wandered aimlessly through the cold, dark forest. For two years, he had walked without any direction, living off the miniscule amount of food the world offered him. He spent his time hiding from the people of the world, talking to no one.

After walking through what seemed like a never-ending stretch of razor-sharp peaks and vast, snow-filled valleys, Te’oma finally reached the end of the forest. One last rise stood before him. For some reason, the snow was not so thick in this part of the forest.

‘This must be it,’ Te’oma thought to himself. ‘This must be what Dad was talking about.’

Te’oma found a burst of energy and started running as fast as he could. With his legs aching, he bounded his way through the snow to get to the top of the rise. His heart leaping out of his chest in anticipation, he experienced the unfamiliar feeling of soft grass beneath his feet.

Te’oma tripped and fell to the ground. Undeterred, he scrambled up the hillside on his hands and knees. He reached the top of the rise, got to his feet and wiped the snow away from his face. His father’s voice echoed through his mind. “Find the mountain without cloud,” he had said, “Find the mountain.”

Te’oma looked out at the wide expanses ahead and his heart sank. Before him was a vast, frozen ocean. Distant mountain ranges blurred the horizon and enormous mountains rose up sharply either side of him, towering over the entrance to the forest behind.

He stood atop the hill, frozen both emotionally and physically and unsure what to do next. For two years he had wandered aimlessly, seeing nothing but snow and mountains.

“I must go on. I must have hope,” he said, trying desperately to convince himself.

In the distance, one mountain stood alone. It was a very tall and special mountain, normal in appearance except for one unique feature. It had no cloud surrounding it, nor snow covering the ground. It stood alone watching over the world, as if somehow untouched by the bitter cold.

Te’oma walked down to the ocean and stopped at the edge of the frozen expanse. His eyes were fixated on the lone mountain. He surveyed the area, wondering if there was a way around the enormous, frozen death-trap, but the only way through, without going hundreds and hundreds of miles out of his way, was straight through the middle.

Te’oma bravely stepped out toward the sea. The wind picked up, whipping the fresh snow straight into his face, obscuring his view – almost warning him to turn back. His feet sank through the snow and landed with a thud on the frozen water below. Even his slender frame was enough to make the ice creak and moan.

Te’oma took a deep breath, and then slowly stepped forward. “One foot at a time,” he said to himself, as he trudged out onto the ice shelf.

His only bearing was the mountain that lay hazy in the distance. His mind was focused on the task at hand, but he was not aware of how far away it really was.

Te’oma pushed forwards, gaining more confidence with every step he took. Something ahead of him moved and caught his attention. His confidence evaporated and he stopped in his tracks, frightened stiff. He vainly tried to look through the snow to see what it was.

He noticed something else, this time coming from the other direction. Te’oma dropped to the ground in fear. He sank so far into the snow that he could not be seen. He ever-so-slowly crawled along, only popping his head up every now and then to look for danger, but he saw nothing.

A thunderous cracking noise broke the silence. Te’oma wiped away the snow below him to see that the ice had begun to turn to mush.

He quickly got to his feet and looked back. He had come so far that the coastline had become a distant blur. The ground beneath him started to squelch and squeak. He saw that parts of the ice had broken off into the sea ahead. He panicked and turned around. As he did, the ice that he was standing on broke away.

He scrambled back towards the coast, but the ice he was sitting on tilted so much that the front of it dipped into the water. The water rose towards his feet; he quickly moved back and the small iceberg he was on corrected itself.

Te’oma sat down with his head in his lap as the ice floated him out to sea. It gently bobbed up and down in the water as it drifted away from the land.

‘What am I going to do?’ thought Te’oma in a panic. The land had grown further from sight. He dipped his hand in the icy cold water, then quickly ripped it back out and shook it off. “Wow, that’s cold,” he said, “but I can’t just sit here!”

He plucked up the confidence to put his hands into the water once again. Slowly, he used his hands to paddle the iceberg back towards the land.

The iceberg moved agonisingly slowly. Te’oma’s hands and arms quickly became numb and started to ache to their very core.

He inched his little iceberg closer to the shore, and then, as if on cue, rain started to pour down. It came down so hard that the snow and ice that Te’oma was sitting on melted around him.

Frantically, Te’oma paddled away, splashing water onto the ice, adding to the melting mass. Suddenly, his hand slipped and his whole arm dipped into the water. He reeled in shock.

He shook off the cold and pressed on, paddling as fast as he could. Without warning, the middle of his tiny iceberg broke in half and Te’oma was plunged head first into the freezing cold waters below.

His arms and legs locked up with the shock, and his eyes were wide open as he sank rapidly into the deep.

Te’oma dropped ever so gently down onto the ocean floor. His body was frozen, and his heart and mind had sunk as far as his body had.

The freezing cold took over and his mind began to wander. Before long his thoughts turned to his father and his undying passion for his mother, who he would never give up on, no matter how cold she became.

The thought of his father gave Te’oma strength momentarily, as his blood tried desperately to pump its way to his limbs.

“I will not lose hope,” he thought to himself, as he tried desperately to move.

Then, out of nowhere, a strange thing happened, a warm flow of water caressed Te’oma’s face. He closed his eyes and let himself drift along the warm current. He controlled his desperation to breathe as he floated.

In the distance, a small opening in a cave became visible. Te’oma swam for it with all the strength that he could muster. He looked up, but all he could see was ice.

With a little bit of wiggling, he squeezed his way through the small opening and swam his way up a cave tunnel. A faint light flickered through the water ahead. The water became warmer and warmer, the further into the cave he went,until, finally, he reached the surface.

He burst out of the water and gasped for air. He frantically scrambled towards the edge, trying desperately to get out so he could dry off.

He pulled himself up onto the rock, coughing and spluttering. His arms and legs shaking with cold and his lips and mouth trembling, he tried to get to his feet, but his legs gave way. The world around him went dark. His eyes closed as he collapsed to the ground.

***

Hours passed and Te’oma did not move. The lapping of the water at his feet was not enough to wake him.

After nearly a full day of sleeping, Te’oma began to stir. The only thing he could hear was the crackling of a fire.

His eyes began to focus on the warm light of a roaring torch hanging on the wall. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to get his bearings. He was immediately drawn to the little warmth that the torch was putting out and he rushed as fast as his feet would take him to the flame.

His whole body ached, but the promise of warmth was enough for him to ignore it.

Te’oma ripped the wet clothes from his body and got as close as he could to the flame. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be warm. His bones ached as they thawed from the inside, out. It was the most wonderful pain that he could remember.

Behind the torch was a large, round, polished bronze disc that reflected the light from the torch, directing the light into the water.

He sat down in front of the torch. His mind wandered through happy thoughts for a change, but, as always, it found its way back to his parents.

He wished with all his heart that they could have been there with him. If only they had made it this far they could have been safe. They could have lived happily there, away from the cold.

After spending nearly an hour soaking up the warmth of the fire, Te’oma got to his feet and looked around at the cave he’d found himself in.

The cave led deeper into the ground and around a sharp corner. More torches led the way down. He followed them. The further he got the more the cave opened up. At the end of the cave were large, stone pillars, half-buried by the cave’s walls. Broken rubble lay around him, with moss and grass growing over the top of the stone.

In the middle of the cave sat a large, rectangular-shaped table. Strange markings were engraved all around it. Although the years had faded them, the skill it must have taken to engrave them was quite remarkable.

Te’oma walked up to the table and wiped away the dust from the surface. It was the most incredibly polished slab of rock he had ever seen. It was so shiny that he could almost see his reflection.

Whatever this place was, the people who lived here had long since gone. At the end of the cave, tonnes of rocks had fallen down, blocking the path.

His stomach began to rumble with the ferocity of a lion. He had forgotten about eating. It was time to catch some dinner.

***

Te’oma sat on the ground at the cave’s entrance. He’d built himself a small fireplace, using the torch from the wall. By his side was a decent-sized fish. He held it up in front of his face, and then bashed it over the rocks. He cast his mind back to the first time he learnt to cook a fish.

“Your father loves the way I cook silverback fish, you know,” said Gaia to a then five-year-old Te’oma, beating a fish against a rock, next to a slow-running stream. Damon was leaning back against a tree, relaxing, with his eyes closed. “In fact I think it’s the reason he fell in love with me,” said Gaia.

“That’s not true,” said Damon. “Well partly. I also fell in love with you because you can catch the fish as well,” smiled Damon.

Gaia looked down at Te’oma with a sparkle in her eye. She looked at him with such adoration that he could feel her heart bursting through her eyes, as if she were telling him how much she loved him without uttering a word.

“Now you try it,” she said, handing the fish to Te’oma. He gladly took the fish from her, eager to learn everything she had to teach him. He simply adored her.

The sound of falling rocks broke Te’oma’s daydream. He wiped a tear from his eye. He’d forgotten how stunning she once was. It had been so long since he had seen her like that.

He placed the fish on the fire and laid himself down on the rock. A faint flicker of light caught his eye. He got to his feet and walked over to a broken piece of stone. Directly above it was a tiny beam of light, breaking through the roof of the cave. At the end of the ray of sunlight was a very tiny, delicate-looking cabbage patch, slowly pushing its way up to sun.

He looked above the patch and noticed that the ceiling was cracked. He dragged an old wooden log across and stood on top of it.

He ever-so-carefully pulled bits of the ceiling off. As he did, a small metal grate came into view. Above that was a small, round well that led all the way up to the surface. At some point in time this cave must have been full of water.

He moved all the dirt away from the well. The sunlight rained down over the small cabbage patch and drops of water gave the plant a much-needed drink.

He leaned down, gently touching its leaves. “If you can survive down here, little guy, maybe I can too – just for a little while,” he said.

“Sometimes our path seems devastating and impossible;
yet here we are.”

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