I remember that night as if it were today. Just a fleeting moment carved out of the endless polar night, the time when we’d settle down to sleep.
A warm flicker of light danced across the walls, casting a soft glow on familiar faces: stern and brooding Atrik hunched over his spear, sharpening it with focus; cheerful, carefree Mira stitching a fur coat; and then there’s insufferable, darned Net, squirming beside me, pinching and poking nonstop—there’s no way I can fall asleep with him around!
“Atrik, did you like the new boots?” Mira asked, her voice light.
“Yeah, they’re good,” he grumbled.
“Should I make another pair? You know, just in case?”
“Maybe.”
Mira turned to me with a smile.
“Eyvi, you still awake?”
“How am I supposed to sleep with Net pinching me like this!” I burst out.
“Oh, come on then, try on this coat. I’m almost done, but I need to see if it fits.”
Net let out a triumphant snicker, and I groaned. Here I am, caught in a sibling war, and they’re talking about some coat! In the heat of our playful shoves, I had no clue about the evil—terrifying and unstoppable—looming over us. How could I, a little girl, have guessed? All I knew was snow, Mira’s coats, the hides Atrik brought back from his hunts, and maybe the seal fat burning in a bowl, lighting up our little snow house, our igloo.
Back then, we still lived in the settlement… Back then, Ingvar’s igloo—Atrik’s brother—stood right next to ours, connected by a short tunnel. Sometimes, we’d hear children’s laughter echoing from there. Other times, Ingvar would pop in to ask if we’d seen where those little rascals hid his hat. And hiding a hat? That’s a serious crime! How are you supposed to go outside without one? Step out for a second, and your ears are already frosted over with ice…
“Eyvi, hurry up,” Mira called.
“Net!” I yelped. “Mira, he won’t let me go!”
“Net, stop messing around!” Mira snapped.
“Mom, Eyvi’s making stuff up! I’ve been lying here quietly for ages!”
“Net, settle down and let Eyvi try on the coat!”
Atrik couldn’t take it anymore.
“The Barren Nights are coming, and all you’re thinking about is a coat,” he said, finishing with his spear and moving on to his knives.
Mira faltered for a moment.
“It’s been ten years since they last came. Do you really think they’ll show up now?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter what I think. We’ve gotta be ready, always.”
“Ten years without a sign of them—they’re not coming back,” Mira insisted. “They’re gone for good.”
“Tell me,” Atrik said, locking eyes with her, “do you remember what happened the last time they came?”
A heavy silence fell. Only Net and I kept wrestling, while Mira’s face grew pale. Atrik shook his head and turned back to his knives—knives that had taken down a polar bear, but what could they do against the nightmare, the predators of the polar night, creeping toward the settlement from every direction?
“Come on, Net!” I shouted one last time.
We made such a racket, tumbling off the sleeping platform, knocking over the bowl of fat, plunging the igloo into darkness… And in the middle of this chaos, Atrik leapt to his feet.
“Quiet!”
We froze instantly. Only a faint glimmer of light slipped through the hole above, barely illuminating anything—just Atrik’s powerful silhouette standing out in the gloom.
“Do you hear that? The dogs are howling,” he said.
“Dogs… they howl all the time,” Mira said, her voice trembling.
“Not like this,” Atrik countered.
That’s when it all started. A jagged, piercing, inhuman scream tore through the air from outside. I’d heard all kinds of cries before, but no human ever sounded like that… It turned something inside me upside down.
“Barren Leopards,” Atrik forced out.
He grabbed his spear, but didn’t know which way to run. I could feel myself shaking, feel Net trembling beside me, see the coat slip from Mira’s hands… More and more screams rose over the settlement… And then a shriek came from Ingvar’s igloo.
Atrik bolted through the tunnel.
“Atrik, no!” Mira cried out.
What did she have against Ingvar? Why didn’t she want Atrik to save him? Then it hit me: if he went, who would save us?
The sounds of a struggle reached us from the igloo where Atrik had gone. I didn’t yet know what a fight to the death sounded like… But this was it, a fight to the death.
We couldn’t even hear the screams of the whole settlement anymore—all we could hear were the cries from the neighboring igloo, cutting off one by one. And that was the worst part: one moment a scream, the next—nothing. I suddenly forgot how to move. So did Net… Only Mira snapped out of it, fumbling for a weapon.
“Hide somewhere. As far from the entrance as you can,” she ordered.
We didn’t even have time to budge. They say the scariest thing is the dark. But no. The scariest thing is the eyes of a beast emerging from it.
So silently, so slowly and smoothly… two specks appeared in the tunnel. The eyes of a Barren Leopard, glowing with an eerie, magical green fire. A creature from nightmares stood still, just staring at us—as if already savoring its trophies.
What happened next? The leopard lunged. I screamed. Atrik burst out of the darkness, and the beast’s jaws clamped down on his arm. That scream… everything drowned in that scream. The leopard would’ve torn Atrik’s arm clean off, but Mira drove a knife into the creature. Then again, and again, and again… The monster thrashed in agony. It tore through the igloo, dragging Atrik with it, while Net and I huddled in a corner, screaming, tearing our throats raw.
Damned creature! It seemed like those last moments of its life were given just to take someone else down with it. With his arm shredded, Atrik kept fighting with every ounce of strength—if he’d given in for even a second, he’d have been gone…
Finally, the leopard went still. So did we. For the first time, Atrik groaned in pain… And in the neighboring igloo, Ingvar’s, there was only dead silence. Oh, how that silence rang in my ears!
And it’s because of that dead silence that I’ll never forget that night. The leopards left, but the silence stayed… That night, I truly understood what it means to live in the Polar Wastes, the lands of the exiled, on the very edge of the world of Artar.