the darkness falls around me at night
I blink at him, still flexing my freshly-healed arm and half-grinning at the sheer absurdity of standing here in a snowy battlefield with the Deimos. "I’ve heard some wild stories about you," I admit, still catching my breath. "Bit of a legend."
My mouth is already ahead of me. "I actually met someone recently who said they knew you—Elizabeth. She helped me out when I first arrived, and we found a rose together. She said she was bringing it to you, to…" I trail off as a rumble shakes the snow beneath our feet. Another group of luxere barrels into view through the trees, and my thoughts scatter like dry leaves.
I grit my teeth. My limbs are aching, and my fingers have started to go numb from a mix of cold and exhaustion. This is more than I thought it’d be—more than any training or story could’ve prepared me for. But I don’t back down.
Daggers ready again, I plant my feet in the snow and try to shake off the fatigue. "Later," I say under my breath, both to myself and the conversation. We can talk legends and roses when I’m not about to get skewered again.
The luxere breaks from the trees fast—too fast. I try to dodge, but the snow slows me down, and I hit the ground hard, rolling just out of its path. As it charges over me, I lash upward with my remaining dagger, slicing deep into its belly.
Blood sprays—hot and sudden—across my arms, face, even my tongue. The creature stumbles and crashes nearby, legs kicking once before going still.
I push myself up, sputtering a little and breathless. "Well," I huff, wiping my mouth on my sleeve before I grin, "if I wasn’t intimidating before, maybe being this covered in blood’ll help."
Then I square my shoulders, eyes scanning for the next one. Still standing. Still useful.
My mouth is already ahead of me. "I actually met someone recently who said they knew you—Elizabeth. She helped me out when I first arrived, and we found a rose together. She said she was bringing it to you, to…" I trail off as a rumble shakes the snow beneath our feet. Another group of luxere barrels into view through the trees, and my thoughts scatter like dry leaves.
I grit my teeth. My limbs are aching, and my fingers have started to go numb from a mix of cold and exhaustion. This is more than I thought it’d be—more than any training or story could’ve prepared me for. But I don’t back down.
Daggers ready again, I plant my feet in the snow and try to shake off the fatigue. "Later," I say under my breath, both to myself and the conversation. We can talk legends and roses when I’m not about to get skewered again.
The luxere breaks from the trees fast—too fast. I try to dodge, but the snow slows me down, and I hit the ground hard, rolling just out of its path. As it charges over me, I lash upward with my remaining dagger, slicing deep into its belly.
Blood sprays—hot and sudden—across my arms, face, even my tongue. The creature stumbles and crashes nearby, legs kicking once before going still.
I push myself up, sputtering a little and breathless. "Well," I huff, wiping my mouth on my sleeve before I grin, "if I wasn’t intimidating before, maybe being this covered in blood’ll help."
Then I square my shoulders, eyes scanning for the next one. Still standing. Still useful.
Theea
and covers me in silence so bright
