The Pirates are on the rise in the west. Over the summer we had three separate attacks. I lost 11 ships in the harbour, and nearly 52 of Oswald's men.

It was a calm evening in The Antler. Here and there, groups of people were slurping their pints, their chats mumbling and slightly chaotic. Fox didn't care what they were saying. He lay on his belly on the rug by the cosy, crackling fire. He brought two marbles to his mouth and blew out a tiny but powerful flame.

His fingertips grew warm, the glass balls hotter still. As the edges melted and united, he stopped blowing and dipped the marbles in a cup of snow. The orange ball with yellow veins had cracked in a couple of places,  but the white one was still intact. Perfect.

He grabbed the row of four marbles he had melted earlier and pressed the two white balls against each other. Pretending to be a fire-spitting dragon, he used his magic to craft the first part of his marble gate. Soon he would have a marble-made obstacle course for all of his marbles. Or the ones he would have left, anyway.

"You're bad for business, Fox." Mallard's chin rested on his hand, his pinky finger tapping his chin. He was sitting in the red chair by the fire, where Katla always used to sit. "Melting my precious marbles. You're torturing my toys."

"I have to do it." Fox got two more marbles out of his pouch: another white one and a blue one with black stripes. "Falcon wants me to build a track so I can learn how to steer small objects using Air Magic."

"Air Magic?" Mallard gasped overdramatically, as though he was talking to a toddler. "Has Falcon been teaching you Air Magic?"

"A little."

Performing Air Magic wasn't so different from playing with fire, but it required a lot more effort and concentration. Still, he would show Mallard that he was almost eleven and that he didn't need to be baby-ed to. He reached into his pouch and took out Firestone, the prime of his marble collection.

"Are you going to make that fly?" Mallard asked.

"Yes." Fox held the large black marble in the palm of his hand and stared at it, imagining it hovering. Firestone wobbled and jerked, but nothing more than that. He narrowed his eyes so much the muscles in his face cramped up. "Come on. Come on," he whispered.

"Don't sweat it," said the marble merchant. "Air is your connected element, so it's gonna be a little harder to master. Practise will make it perfect."

"But I can do it." Fox stuck out his tongue. Even if it took the equivalent of lifting a rock the size of the tavern above his head, he would carry on until Firestone was no longer touching his skin.

Then, as though the Gods themselves intervened, the marble shot into the air. It crashed into the roof, then onto Fox's head, from where it catapulted into the fireplace. 

His lips were trembling, his eyes threatening to perform the only bit of Water Magic he would ever be good at, yet he didn't need to think twice to dive after the marble. With bare hands, he pushed two burning logs aside and dug into the coals to retrieve it.

When he turned around to show Mallard that he had gotten it, Doe stood in front of him. She grabbed his hands and wiped them clean with a wet cloth. The look on her face wasn't a happy one. "You know the rules, darling. No elaborate magic inside the tavern. If you wanna show your tricks, you'll have to do that outside."

"But you don't want me to go outside at this hour," he protested.

"No,  and it's getting late for little Foxes too. Grab your toys and go to bed, darling." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, which he both liked and disliked at the same time; why he couldn't tell. "Tomorrow is another day."

But nothing seemed to work the following day. The snow was colder and wetter than before, and the rats abnormally quiet. Only once had he caught sight of a tail, but he had missed his target completely.

He huddled into the warm scarf that Doe had knitted for him. That one rat must have warned his friends that Fox the Ratslayer was lying in wait for them; that's why they weren't coming.

He sighed. If that was the case, then the rat had better friends than he had had in Laneby. All they had ever done was throwing mud on him and laughing when he said he wanted to be the best warrior in the world.

How could he have ever called Seb his best friend? He was the meanest of them all and always wanted to win.

Something rustled underneath the bushes, a soft scurrying that didn't belong to a rat–he had learnt his lesson. He jumped up and opened his eyes, a green flame already spiking in his hand.

The God of Patience stopped him from attacking. A white pigeon, almost invisible in the snow, stared at him with its beady red eyes. As he hid the flame behind his back, the animal flew up and flapped its wings wildly.

Something dropped to the ground. It landed in the snow with a soft thud, too loud to be the bird's poop or a feather.

Fox hurried closer to the edge of the river and found a minuscule scroll, tinier than his pinky finger, buried surprisingly deep into the powdery snow. It was bound by a thin brown thread.

He wasn't very good at reading, but the messy, watery scribbles clearly spelt out 'King' and 'castle'. With peering eyes, he looked at the sky, but the pigeon was gone. Maybe the animal didn't know what a castle was, or who the King was, but, luckily, he did. He would bring the letter to King Ariel.

Or to the castle, at least. 

Despite the King's decision to let him stay with Doe while Katla was ill, the mere thought of meeting the giant with his billy-goat beard frightened him. Since he didn't want to be scared anymore, he would refrain from seeing King Ariel ever again. Problem solved.

He would give the letter to one of the guards, or Leo if he was at the castle. As he tucked the scroll into the pocket of his trousers, the wind howled and brought the whispers of the God of Greed. "Don't you wanna see what kind of things people write to the King?"

A little peek wouldn't hurt, would it? He shoved the thread off and opened the scroll.

Small winds, grand fire
Soon he's a flyer
Still alone, not a gemstone in sight
Advance while it's still night?

Fox didn't understand a word of what he was reading. If this was a message, then it wasn't a very clear one. And if it was a story, then it wasn't a very good one either. Maybe he should advise Leo to hunt that pigeon down to see if there was another letter that could explain this one.

He stuffed the scroll into his pocket and plodded through the snow in an otherwise fairly empty Moondale. He counted only a handful of people on Main Street, and even the castle's main gate was guarded by one man only.

But there was someone else standing by the bulky guard's side... a woman. And she couldn't be a guard because she didn't have the typical Silvermark uniform with the silver arrow. Instead, she was wearing a thick white mink coat that reached her knees, the dress that came peeping underneath it was furred too; rabbit or hare, Fox wasn't sure. 

She was handing the man a steaming cup. "Here, Bear, that'll keep you warm."

"Hmm... I know something else that can keep me warm." Keeping the cup close to his chest, he leant over and whispered something in her ear, which made her giggle.

"No, we can't. My father... And..." She gesticulated at Fox, her braided blonde hair swishing across her face as she struggled loose. "You have to work."

Fox gasped. He had seen that woman before, a couple of weeks ago, when she was chasing her brother down the hallways of the castle because he was teasing her for loving a man named Bear. 

If that guard was Bear, then she was Princess Panthera. The Princess of Silvermark.

"What is it you want, boy?" the guard said monotonously.

"Erm... is Leo home?" Fox dug into his pocket and showed the scroll, the thread dropping into the snow. He didn't pick it back up. "I found this."

Princess Panthera took the letter from his hand before Bear could and studied it. "But this isn't for Uncle Leo, is it?"

"Erm..." Fox couldn't form a coherent thought. His cheeks grew hot, his palms sweaty, and he had a sudden urge to run away and hide behind the barrel in Katla's front garden. As he opened his mouth, the words came out in a one-breath-stretch. "I-don't-think-it's-a-real-letter-bye."

He continued his day as though nothing had happened, that he hadn't acted like a scaredy cat in front of Princess Panthera. Though wrapped in furs, she had been kind of beautiful. He caught himself blushing as he imagined getting a hug from her, or–by the grace of the Goddess of Lust–a kiss. He had been such a Foambrain, dashing off like that.

She was all he could think about that night as he lay on his belly by the fire in The Antler and quietly continued working on his obstacle course. Princess Panthera or his fox-shaped sword. It was a tough choice, if the Gods ever forced him to choose.

Just as he placed his marble gate on the table to test its balance, the doorbell tinkled and in walked Leo. The man looked straight at him, his face all frowns. "You and I need to talk, kid. Four eyes and ears. This is important."

Fox gulped. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Would he be punished for talking to Princess Panthera, or had the Gods told Leo about his sinful thoughts? Oh, no, he hoped not.

"Do I need to come to the castle?" he asked.

"No." Leo eyed Doe. "Can I take him upstairs?"

"Sure, do what you must."

And thus Fox soon found himself sitting on his bed, in the small bedroom just above the fireplace, where it was always cosily warm. But right now he wanted to roll in the snow to stop being so hot. His muscles began to tremble, and Leo not saying anything didn't make it any better.

The giant threw Fox's folded pyjama on his nightstand and turned the chair around. He sat down, his arms on the top rail. "So... where did you find that scroll?"

"A pigeon dropped it by the Right Twin. I was hunting rats." Fox shrunk and clutched his arms around his legs. "Did I do something wrong? Is that why you're angry?"

"I'm not..." The muscles in Leo's face relaxed. "Not with you, I'm sorry. Ariel and I are very grateful that you brought that letter to the castle."

"Did you understand what it said? It seemed–"

"Fox, it's the most important letter that Ariel has gotten in moons, and..." he whispered, "it wasn't even for him."

"But it said 'King' and 'Castle'."

"Not our King. Not our castle." Leo pressed his lips together. He slowly rubbed his beard and looked at him sideways. "It's erm... Ariel doesn't want you to get scared, but erm... he wishes to reward you for this loyalty."

"He does?" Fox sat up straight. He didn't understand much of what was going on. The only other King he knew was the one from the Greenlands, but he lived so far away and a pigeon was too weak to deliver a letter during the winter moons. It would never be able to climb the peaks of the Horseshoe Mountains, would it?

"I told him that you would like to be a swordsman, and reminded him that Katla's unable to teach you Fire Magic at the moment." Leo paused, but for what Fox did not know. "He said yes, Fox. To me training you in the noble art of sword fighting."

"He did!" Fox jumped up and wrapped his arms around Leo's neck. "Thank you! Thank you!"

The giant pushed him away. "Yeah, yeah, it's alright, kid. No need to get all clingy."

"But Leo? I don't understand why you were so angry? I thought I had done something wrong."

"No, I was just upset."

"Why?"

"Because... well...  that letter means there's someone in Moondale who's sending information to Half-Ear." He placed his hand on Fox's shoulder. "My first lesson is to trust no-one, kid. Everybody could be a spy."

"Everyone?" Fox cocked his head. "But surely not you, and Phoe, and Doe, and Katla. And neither are Falcon and Mallard. And I'm sure Bear isn't either. He loves Princess Panthera. I saw them together."

Leo ruffled his hair. "Don't be so jealous. Bear and Panthera will never marry. It's puppy-love at best."

"What's puppy-love?" Fox asked.

But Leo didn't reply. He was already by the door. "Meet me at noon at your rat catching spot by the Right Twin. Don't be late."

With Leo's training added to his already busy schedule, Fox's days flew by. His mornings were spent doing chores for Doe, his afternoons on the field with a wooden sword and shield in his hands. The lessons were always the same, with him closing his eyes and reacting when Leo snooped from behind.

Sword fighting was hard, very hard, and with the necessary incidents. When he had burnt off not one but two of Leo's eyebrows, the man resorted to blunt iron weapons to stop Fox from accidentally resorting to magic.

The sword fighting left Fox drained and covered in black spots and other bruises. Most days he barely caught enough rats to be able to buy food for Katla. Sometimes Leo didn't release him until well after dark, and he had to use his savings to pay the baker and the butcher.

Since he now visited Katla later in the day, he hardly ever saw his master. The packages he left on the window sill were always gone, but Fox yearned for those moments that confirmed that his master was still a man, and not blown up like a volcano.

One evening, he sat in Katla's chair by the fireplace, clamping to the drawing of Mother. Doe had given him a cup of warm milk, but he hadn't touched it yet. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He was tired but couldn't sleep. He wanted to cry but didn't know why so he kept his teeth clenched.

"Can I join you?" Phoe asked.

Fox shrugged and stared into the fire. The flames were dying, but he couldn't bring himself to blow new life into them. Just because he was a Fire Magician didn't mean that he always had to look after the fire. There were other people in the tavern too.

Phoe settled into the opposite chair. "Tough day?"

"Not really." 

He had disarmed Leo on the first try, even managed to win a duel. The baker had given him a nut biscuit that would otherwise grow stale, and Doe had surprised him with his favourite pie: marmalade with dried apples. 

But he missed Katla so much his tummy ached. Leo was always serious, and there was never any room for horsing around. He never invited Princess Panthera to come and watch, though he had promised it on several occasions.

Not that it mattered that much. Fox was long over her anyway. She was a Princess, and he but a Fire Magician. If the Gods made him pick, he would go for the sword. He sighed. If the choice was between the sword and Katla, he would always and forever pick his master.

"Phoe, how long does winter last in Silvermark?" he asked.

"Officially three moons." Phoe stretched his arms and let out a long yawn. "In practice, it can snow until the moon of sowing. I've even experienced snowfall in the grass moon."

"But when will Katla get better?" He swallowed, holding back the tears. He couldn't wait for three more moons. At least Katla would have to be better when he turned eleven. It was important.

"Oh. That depends on the sun." Phoe got up from his said and went to the bar. He came back with a pencil. "Can I borrow that paper of yours?"

"It's the drawing Katla made of my mother," Fox said as he handed it over. "Be careful."

Phoe looked at the paper, blinking. "What happened to the eyes?"

"I changed them to brown, but I must have done something wrong."

Her eyes were now a mix of hazel and black, with bits of green. It didn't matter. The woman on the drawing was still his mother, even if the eyes were a little odd.

Phoe turned the paper upside down, his mother facing the table. He drew four horizontal lines and eight vertical lines. "It's precisely a moon until the vernal equinox, or the beginning of Spring. Why don't you colour all the boxes? When you're about halfway, you'll notice some changes in Katla."

"Good changes?" Fox asked.

Phoe nodded. "Very good changes."

And so every night, after hugging his mother goodnight, Fox laid the drawing on his nightstand and coloured the box. Only twenty-eight days until he could live with Katla again, only twenty-seven, twenty-six,...

Nine boxes later, the first snowdrops popped up at various places in Moondale. People flocked to the streets, Mallard set up his marble stand again, and even The Antler was busier than it had been in weeks.

Two whole rows of boxes had been coloured in when Fox knocked on Katla's door, by habit and expecting nothing, when his master opened, his fringe black. 

Instantly, Fox took a step back.

Katla grabbed the package of food from the window sill. "Thanks for this, son. I'll pay you back."

"You don't have to. You drew Mother."

"I owed you that. I'll still pay you back... one day," he said and closed the door.

Fox skipped home, his belly fluttering with big butterflies that wanted to get out. Spring was in the air and he could almost smell it, the flowers, sun, and happiness.

For the love of all the Gods, he was so happy.

Leo was less enthusiastic when Fox told him the following day. The warrior lunged out and slashed his shield out of his hands. "One sunny day doesn't make it Spring, kid. The weather is treacherous in this place. Katla can still relapse."

"So when will I get to move back in with him?" Fox slid on the snow, retrieved his shield, and was right back in time to parry Leo's next attack.

"That's up to Hawk and Ariel to decide."

Fox was hopeful that wouldn't take a long time. He saw Katla a couple of days later, soaking up the sun, and decided to join him. He placed his jacket, hat, and scarf next to him, and sat cross-legged into the grass.

"Have you been running?" Katla asked.

"Yeah, with Leo." Fox was still panting. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead. "I'm not even eleven, and I'm already a warrior. King Ariel wanted him to teach me sword fighting because there's someone who's sending letters to Half-Ear, but I found the letter and warned him."

"Oh." Katla frowned. "How's it going–the sword fighting?"

"I'm getting better every day." Fox looked at his master. Katla was pale and despite the food he had brought every day, he had lost a lot of weight too. "But you don't have to worry, Katla. I still wanna be the best magician ever. I'm learning bits of Air Magic too. It's not going as fast as I hoped, but I can do some things. Let me show you."

"No." Katla brought his hand to eyes. He rubbed them, grimacing. "I think you should go, Fox. Maybe another time."

"Ok. Maybe tomorrow."

"Yeah. Maybe."

The cold wind and freezing temperatures returned to Moondale and lingered for many days. The sun disappeared behind a thick mist of grey clouds. When Fox ran out of boxes to colour, he drew an extra row, praying to the Goddess of Kindness that he wouldn't need them.

He grew listless as the bad weather continued. Snow turned to hail and turned to rain. He didn't feel like playing or fighting. All he wanted to do was sit in Katla's chair by the fire and stare at the flames.

Doe placed her hand on his forehead. "No fever, darling. So what's eating at you?"

"I hate Moondale and its endless winter." This time he could not stop the tears. "I thought he was getting better, but now the sun is gone again, and I haven't seen him for so long. I miss him, Doe. He's my bestest-bestest friend, and I can't even show him all I have learnt because then he gets sick."

Doe sat next to him in the chair and he crawled onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him and rocked him. "Shht, the sun always returns. Some years, it takes a bit longer than others. And I love you too, darling. Phoe and Leo like having you around as well. Each time I see Leo, he's bragging how much progress you're making. And because of your shenanigans, Mallard has improved his marbles so they can no longer melt. Even Falcon is impressed by your rat-catching skills."

"But they're not Katla, Doe." 

He stood up and went to bed without colouring another box. Not even Mother's drawing could cure the loneliness that was swallowing him whole. He prayed and prayed for the Gods to make Katla better, to send the sun and let winter be over for another year.

Tweeting birds awoke him from his deep slumber, his eyes still sticking from the tears he had shed before falling asleep. There was another noise besides the cheery chirps. A tocking sound, not rhythmic enough to be a woodpecker in search for breakfast.

He opened his window and saw a black-haired man standing with a pebble in his hand. Katla smiled as their eyes met. He dropped the stone and conjured a ball of fire. "I was wondering if this is the home of a boy who likes playing catch?"

"Yes!" Fox closed the window, put on his jacket and rushed down the stairs. "Doe, I'm outside with Katla! I'll help you later, okay?"

"Okay, darling." Sleep was still apparent in her voice.

The bed creaked. She must have turned around and continued sleeping. He giggled and sprinted to the other side of The Antler, grabbed the keys from the hook by the bar, and unlocked the door. The Gods answered his prayers. He and Katla were going to play together and train, and soon he would be living in the small cottage by the castle wall again.

"Does Doe know you're out here in your pyjamas?" Katla raised his eyebrow, his lips broadening into a grin.

"I wanted to be quick." He made a fist and playfully punched it into Katla's arm. "Does this mean you're all better?"

Katla pulled Fox around and ran his knuckles over his head. "First day I'm feeling this great, son. I'm a man reborn."

"And a dragon reborn?"

"Can't do that in The Antler–Doe wouldn't like it." Katla held him tight, his heartbeat pounding on his back. It was the very hug he had been craving for moons. "Get properly dressed. Then I show you what this dragon can do."

"Yes, and I'll show you all I have learnt."

"I'll still be able to beat you."

"No way! I think winter has made you rusty."

"Has it? Has it?" He ran his fingers over his body, tickling him.

Fox giggled as he struggled free. Deep down he didn't want it to end. He had missed these moments with his master so much, and now they couldn't last long enough.

But then Leo came running into the street, panting and gasping for air. "Good, gracious Gods. I came to fetch Fox, but you're here too. Finally some good news on this god-awful day."

Katla released Fox to put his hand on the giant's back. "What are you talking about?"

"We need a Fire Magician at the castle, urgently. Hawk is trying, but it's not working... it's..."

"We could both come," Fox suggested.

"Breath in and out, Leo." Katla patted the man's back. "Tell us what happened, and how we can help."

"It's the children... I don't know what's going on but..." The tall warrior who was always so gruff and serious burst into tears. "They found Panthera dead in bed, and Felix has a fever that neither the Healers nor Hawk can bring down. I was hoping Fox could help, but you're even better. You have to save him, Katla. He's the Crown Prince."

"And Wolf? Is he alright?"

"The little runt has no clue what's going on." Leo thrust his fist into the wall of The Antler, breaking one of the planks. "It's bloody Half-Ear. I just know he's behind this."

Fox felt anger bubbling inside of him. That Greenlander King. The reason Katla had suffered all winter. The man who had sent a spy to Moondale. And the coward who had murdered the most beautiful Princess in the world in her sleep.

"Don't cry, Leo," Fox said. "When I'm big and strong, that awful man will pay."