The journey back to the village was quieter.
The snow muffled their steps, and the forest seemed to bow in silence as the party passed through. The massive pelt of the Frostmaw was lashed between two long poles, carried by Thorne and Darik at the front of the group like a grim banner. The beast's curved claws dangled like iron sickles, its massive skull wrapped in thick canvas to shield the gore from sight.
Jake walked near the middle, shoulders sore and cloak torn, but head held high.
His blade, still stained near the hilt, swung at his hip. He could still feel the heat of the Frostmaw's breath, still hear the way Mira's magic had cracked through the cold like thunder.
No one spoke much. Words would come later.
When the village came into view, smoke curling from chimneys and roofs blanketed in white, a murmur went through the streets. Children ran ahead, yelling, and villagers began to gather by the time the hunters stepped into the square.
James was there, arms crossed, eyes scanning until they landed on Jake.
A faint smile tugged at his beard.
"Well," James muttered, "didn't expect you to come back dragging a mountain legend behind you."
Garin stepped forward to the front steps of the village hall, where the chief — a tall, wiry woman named Elda — stood with her advisors. Her cloak was lined with fox fur, and a curved blade hung across her back.
"We set out for wolves," Garin began, "but we found something worse. A Frostmaw, deep in the southern ridge."
Elda's face remained impassive, though her fingers twitched slightly on the railing.
"Are you certain?"
"Dead certain," Garin replied, nodding toward the wrapped corpse behind them.
Elda stepped down slowly, her boots crunching in the snow as she came to examine the bundle. She peeled back the canvas slightly, revealing the jagged teeth and massive, frozen snout beneath.
She didn't flinch.
"This hasn't been seen in a generation," she murmured. "You've done more than protect the flocks. You've warned us of a change."
The party exchanged uneasy glances.
Jake felt the weight of her eyes as they turned on him.
"You," she said. "You're the new one. The blacksmith's ward."
"Jake," he said simply.
"You were part of this?"
He nodded. "The beast nearly killed us. We got lucky."
Elda smiled faintly. "Luck favors the ready. You've earned your place."
She looked to Mira, then Garin. "You'll rest here tonight. The meat and bones will be divided among your homes. The pelt and claws I'll pay for myself — we'll hang them in the hall to remind our children what strength looks like."
The crowd murmured in agreement, and people began to disperse.
Jake lingered at the edge, until James clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Not bad for your first week," the blacksmith said. "You're not just surviving here. You're making a mark."
Jake looked toward the bundled skull. "I didn't do it alone."
"No one ever does."
That evening, the party was invited to a feast in the communal hall. Roasted meat, root vegetables, and warm mulled cider filled the long tables, and music hummed softly through the air. Children ran between benches, and the hunters shared their story with eager listeners.
Jake sat beside Mira, watching her speak animatedly with Lysa and Fen. He caught snatches of their tales — how the beast had come crashing through the trees, how Thorne had stayed calm as a stone, how Jake had cut deep enough to slow it.
His name was said with respect.
Emma joined him midway through the meal, cheeks flushed from the firelight.
"You look different," she said. "Tired. But in a good way."
Jake smiled. "I think I've been through something I'll never forget."
"You and the rest of the village."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the fire crackling, the food warm in his hands.
Then Jake turned to her. "Emma… do you know if there's ever been talk of someone — a stranger — coming through the mountains before? Someone who didn't belong?"
Emma blinked. "There are stories. But stories are all this place really has."
"Would the chief know more?"
"Maybe." She looked at him. "Are you thinking about going back to the ruins?"
Jake nodded slowly. "I think that's where the truth is."
Emma didn't press further. She just leaned her shoulder against his.
And for the first time since arriving in this strange world, Jake allowed himself to rest — not just in body, but in spirit.
The past still called to him.
But now, so did the future.