Cold. Everything was cold. Had been for nearly a year. Nobody had heard word from the City. Nobody who went off to find help for us ever returned. We were well and truly alone out in this never ending winter. I walked through the remains of a small town that once was a prosperous neighbor of ours, but after their food supplies went bad from rats, they turned on one another for whatever scraps of food and warm clothing they had. It was a nightmare. Buildings had burned, screams had rung out through the night, and the smoke could be seen for miles around. This all happened months ago, shortly after the heavy snow and Ice had swept through our valley. 

If it wasn't for the fact that this was the quickest way to my own town and that it was nearly dark I would have circled these cursed ruins. We had picked through anything useful and had taken it back with us the day after the fires. Everyone who lived here was gone, seemingly to have vanished into thin air. I clutched the bags of wild game in my hands tighter, almost afraid the ghosts of the lost townsfolk would steal supper away from me. I quickly picked my way through the rubble and dashed into the woods on the other side. Wind howled after me out in the openness of the town, but the woods gave shelter.

Passing through the thick forest was a challenge, but after hunting in these woods for the past six months I could navigate them with my eyes closed. We had to spread our hunting groups far and wide to find enough animals to feed our dwindling numbers. We had lost over half the town within the year that the Winter started, but those that were left were strong and able. Working together, we have survived and I intend to see the end of this Winter.

I left the forest and passed into the outskirts of my own town, feeling the once familiar scenery play out in my mind like it was summer. The water mill would be churning away, the small farmhouse next to it with a small field of crops for the kind family who once lived there. Down the road would have been a sight to see, the place lit up with flowers as big as a baby and of the most beautiful colors. A small pond would have stood behind the great bed of flowers for the little ducklings so they could learn to swim.

Finally, I passed a farmhouse with a windmill set up out in the field next to it. A stable and animal pins had fallen into disrepair over the long cold. The windmill didn't move and not a noise was to be heard except the wind howling in the distance like a wolf pack. My eyes worked their way down from the second floor window and down to the front yard where two cross-shaped markers had been placed. One marker read "Henry, loving Husband and Uncle." while the one next to it simple read "Aunt Em". A single tear fell from my eyes and I turned away, continuing down my path.

I reached a large, wooden structure that once served as the town hall, but now was the sole residential building. It was also the kitchen, the dinning hall, the school, the hospital, and the temple. I stepped inside and closed the door quickly behind me as to not let the cold in. I unwound the scarf around my face and hung it up with the rest of the spare clothing. I kept my long, fur lined coat on. I let my black hair spill out of it's knot and down my back, letting it thaw after being outside for hours. I walked through the hallways and into the main living area where a fire was going. People from the town huddled together or by the fire for warmth and the Munchkin family from the South were all tending to the children, reading to them and teaching them from the meager library we had to offer. They had come up from their Southern homeland after the Winter began, saying things were even worse and that they had hardly made it out. We welcomed them with open arms and helped them as best we could. It almost made me laugh, seeing someone so child-like teaching the children.

I placed the filled game bags in the kitchen and the cook, Gilbert, made sure they would be put to good use. Before I walked out he mentioned that Rosie had something for me. I worked my way through the living area again toward the back of the room, farthest from the fire. It was once the mayor's office, but was now a supply room. Rosie was sitting in a large chair, her brown locks of hair falling over her face as she slept softly. Her jacket was bunched up around her and a blanket laid haphazardly across her. I adjusted it, trying not to wake her, but she stirred and cracked open her eyes. She sat up in the chair and rubbed her face with the palm of her hands, groaning. 

"I didn't mean to wake you. Gilbert just said you had something for me."

"I do, in fact." She responded, paying no heed to the fact that her rest had been interrupted. "It was sitting on the doorstep this afternoon, a note with your name on it was attached to the package." She reached down into the floor and pulled up a five foot long tube-like package wrapped in brown paper and handed it to me. The note was stuck to the paper and easily came off in my hand. I looked it over, just a simple, white envelope with "Dorothy" spelled out in a graceful hand written across the front. I ripped into it and unfolded the note inside.

"My dearest Dorothy, I pray this letter finds you well. This package should have found you on your Eighteenth birthday. I wish I could see how much you have grown." I looked puzzled at the letter. It is my birthday today. I continued to read. "The world we live in is a dark and dangerous place, no matter what your uncle says. That is why the oldest child of every generation in our family is given this gift on the day they come of age." I looked down at the brown package in my hands and sat the letter down for a moment. I ripped into the paper surrounding the tube. The tube was made from a solid wood and capped at the end. I pulled the cap off and reached into the darkness of the wooden tube. I felt a cold, metallic surface greet my hand, and it seemed to leap into my grasping hand. I pulled it out to find my hand gripping the hilt of a sword, the blade was long and slender, but sharp as the day it was made. The blade had an elegant design engraved in it, the shape of a wolf running down the middle of the blade, its head the centerpiece of the cross-guard. A leather sheath for the blade still laid within the tube and I pulled it out and replaced the blade in it. The sheath was designed to be worn on the back, with leather straps attached in a way for it to be worn easily like a quiver of arrows. 

I sat the blade down and picked the letter back up. Rosie was looking at the blade with raised eyebrows and a questioning glance at me. "I'm not sure who it is from yet." I said, going back to reading the note. "The blade is an heirloom passed down through the family for generations. It will serve you and only you now. The blade is enchanted to remain loyal to our family and will protect you for as long as you live. His name is Toto, the Great Wolf. May he serve you well." Just then, a soft growl could be heard from the blade. Rosie didn't look startled, so maybe I had just imagined it. I continued to read.

These may be the last words I am able to write that are guaranteed to reach outside these walls. The War with the Kingdom from across the Desert has ravaged the North-West of the land and has lasted the better part of four years. We have held our ground against them with our superior knowledge of the land and the power of The Wizard, but I fear that madness creep upon him. He mutters to himself and causes disastrous effects with some of his more recent spellcasting. I am afraid he may kill us all, but I do not think this is something natural. He mutters to himself and tried to tell us things, but they make no sense. Only one word has caught my attention: Ozma. If that word means what I think it implies, then this war could be about more than just land. If Toto has found you, then I am unable to carry out my duty and you must do it for me. Find your way to The City of Emeralds and discover the meaning behind Ozma. Toto will guide and protect you, he will never lead you astray. Always remember to follow your heart Dorothy and to keep your friends close. I love you, my beautiful daughter.

Signed,

Aaron Gale, Captain of the Emerald Knights. 

I put the note down, leaning back against the pile of wooden crates behind me. Tears formed in my eyes and when I looked at Rosie all I could say was, "It's a letter. From my Dad." The flood of tears poured out and fell down my face. Rosie comforted me and held me while I sobbed. My father had left when I was very young to go be a guard in the City. He left me with my Aunt and Uncle and would often write letters to me about his daring deeds and acts of heroism. In the last four years, after the start of the War, the letters stopped completely. We all assumed the worse and I had cried for days on end after we held the memorial service. I had given up any hope of ever hearing from him again. To receive this now, after all this time. . . Well, it was almost heartbreaking. 

After I had dried my tears I read over the note once more. I soaked in every detail of it. I looked over at the sword that rested not a foot away from me. I could almost hear a soft noise in the back of my mind, like the sound of a dog waiting for it's master's command. I picked up the blade and threw the strap across my chest, resting the scabbard on my back. Rosie looked at me like I was crazy. "What are you doing?!" She proclaimed. "What do you think you are going to do with that?" I walked to the door of the room and looked back at her. "I am going to finish whatever it is my dad started. This came to me for a reason," I touched the hilt of the blade over my shoulder, "and I intend to do whatever it takes to find out what happened to him."

I walked through the living area, grabbing my small satchel of supplies. I walked out of the room and through the hallways to the front door of the building that had been home for the past year. Rosie was behind me, begging me to rethink this. I wasn't going to. "Well, if you are so bent on going out to the City, then you will need to know the way." She said, stepping out into the cold. I followed after her and stopped next to her, about forty feet from the front of the door. She used her boot to scrap the snow away, revealing pale yellow brickwork underneath. She pointed in the direction that lead out of the valley and toward the north. I remember the yellow bricked road from before and knew where it lead, but following it in this Winter would be tough. "You know the way, just follow this road to the north and you will find your way to the City of Emeralds. Just stay warm out there and don't get yourself killed out there. Who knows what dangers could be waiting for you out there." She gave me a hug and handed me a small bag of preserved meats and other nonperishable foods. "You are going to need it."

As I reached the head of the Valley, I looked back to see the smoke rising from my town. It was the only sign of life in the whole Valley, but I knew that I had to press forward. They would be fine with one less mouth to feed. I turned away from the only home I had ever known and made the start of my journey to discover the fate of my father and the meaning behind the word "Ozma".