It was time.

He was of age now, a pack weighing nearly thirty pounds strapped to his back. A jacket made of the fur of the very animals they hunted, long, silky black hair braided down his back. Square shoulders rose and fell with a soft sigh as brown orbs stared at the unseeable top of the mountain he was to climb. A passage into manhood that everyone male from his tribe was to make. Led by two older men who'd completed his journey, he would be taken up the mountain, left for a week, expected to survive and make his way back down the mountain on his own. In the end, he would have become one with the forces of nature, found his true self, become a man that could work hard, contribute to his small tribe in these Northern woods. It was a pride of every one here, the young boy, soon to be man, able to feel the happy eyes of his father on his back before a large hand clapped onto his shoulder. There was  warm smile on his face, one that filled Nasim with a pride he would fulfill in a weeks time. The young man was sure he'd complete this task with flying colors. He would survive this week and come home a man. He would take over the lands his father owned, find himself a suitable wife, have kids to take over his lands once they became men and then so on and so forth. 

It was a simple dream that Nasim had, but they were a simple people, yet untouched by the modern world that ravaged and raged in their cities and towns, swept up in trivial matters that wouldn't hold a candle to things that mattered in the long run. How sad they must be, not that Nasim knew, locked away in such lives, nothing more than cogs in a wheel. If he ever saw that world, at first he would be in awe of their towering huts and thin clothes, but then he would be sad, sad that they were trapped by money and greed and technology. They would never smell the scent of clean hair, the coolness of crystal blue water. Not once would they know the satisfaction of working the land and growing crops to feed a village, know the joy of watching children run and play down their streets and play their games. They wouldn't understand the pride of a hunt to feed a village. They just wouldn't understand.

"I believe in you," Mameesh, Nasim's father spoke. The man pat his son on the shoulder before stepping back. It was a simple departure before Latika, Nasim's mother stepped forwards. Arms wound around her son, pulling him into a tight hug. She was proud of him, hope swelling in her chest. There was no doubt that he would return in one piece, a man. Her young boy reaching such a landmark brought tears to her eyes.

"You take care of yourself now," she whispered softly before pulling away. Nasim only chuckled, nodding to the woman as she cupped his cheeks. "My son, a beautiful young man," she cooed. Nasim flushed lightly which only served to make his mother laugh before releasing him. Seventeen and yet he got embarrassed so easily.

"Sim! Sim!" A young voice called out to him. His young sister, only five years old, raised her arms to him to be lifted. Of course the teen obliged and lifted her in his strong arms just for her to throw her arms around her neck. "Bring me back a fishy!" She declared.

"I'm not sure if they'll have fish on the mountain, Aramyth," he informed which made the young girl pout. "Buuut," He cooed. "If I find a wolf I'll make you a pretty pelt out of its fur," He whispered conspiratorily. Of course the child squealed with joy.

"Nasim! It's time to go," Jaquer, one of two of his guides called out. He was a stern man of thirty-five. The teen nodded, kissing his baby sister on the cheek, giving one final goodbye to his parents and jogging over. Herik, a man of twenty-eight flanked Nasim and Jaquer, the second guide to lead him up the mountain, to make sure he made it an agreeable distance up the mountain.

The village saw him off, cheering for the teen as the trio began their adventure up the mountain. Moving was harder than one would imagine, the thick furs on his body to keep him warm hindering his usual movements. His furred boots were also rather heavy on his feet, like three pound weights on each foot. He was out of breath rather quickly but refused to complain, sweat clinging to his skin beneath his furs. How long they had been hiking, he had no clue, but could only hope that it would end soon.

"This seems like a good place," Jaquer spoke, halting his steps. He shared a look with the man at the back, a subtle nod shared between them that the youngest didn't notice. Nasim moved further up the trail, a small landing jutting out from the side of the mountain. He smiled, turning to his guides, intent on thanking them only to feel a fist collide with his face. 

Nasim stumbled back as the shock reverbrated through his body. Confusion washed over his mind, eyes wide as he stared at his guides turned attackers. Their faces were blank, emotionless maskes, Jaquer advancing for another blow while Herik dug through his pack. Fear gripped Nasim's heart, feet scrambling back from the older male.

"Wh-What are...What are you doing?!" Nasim demanded, hands raising to block the second swing. It certainly bruised his forearms, a distraction while Herik set the charges. If there was no heir to Mameesh's lands, then they would be up for sale and Herik and Jaquer would be the top bidders for that sweet chunk of money that old geezer sat on.

"That's something you'll never get to know," Jaquer growled, fist connecting with Nasim's cheek again and sending him sprawling. The world went black, body falling limp in the snow while the two older men scrambled away. The hit was only enough to knock him down, send his world into a black oblivion for only a few minutes, world spinning as he came to. A hand settled on his forehead, iron on his tongue from the blood seeping in through his cut cheek. The teen spit out the crimson liquid, flinching as it stained the pure white snow at his side.

"What the hell?" he groaned, previous events coming to him slowly. The moment they did, Nasim was on his feet, rushing down the trail that the two older males had sent him down. "JAQUER! HERIK! YOU ASSHOLES!" He cursed them as he ran but it was too late. The earth shook with a resounding boom, the teens voice the signal that the plotter's needed to set off the charges. 

Instantly Nasim froze, turning over his shoulder and staring.

It was white.

Everything was a pure white while the ground shook. It was like the earth itself was growling, warning him, telling him to run for his life. Billowing clouds of powder rushed towards him, a surreal feeling really. It was almost like it wasn't happening, the way the snow moved so slowly, thick chunks falling rapidly towards him. He tried to pinch himself, tell himself that it was a dream. He would wake up soon enough in his bed with his mother and father and sister and tell them of such a strange dream only...

it wasn't a dream.