the darkness falls around me at night
"Stories are all I had for a while," I huff, breath fogging the air as I reposition my grip on my daggers, the second freshly retrieved. "You grow up listening to them, and you think they’re just that—stories. Legends. Not men with the elements in their hands fighting next to you in the snow." I don’t mean to sound winded (or so dramatic), but I am (and I do). My lungs burn, my limbs are aching, and my poor jacket’s barely holding together where the antler tore it.
Another luxere breaks through the trees—its gaze is dreadful, its gait violent. I charge before I have the chance to think better of it. The first strike misses. The second nicks it shallow. I get a hoof to the hip that knocks me sideways into a snowbank, but I roll, push up, and slam my blade into its side just under the ribs. It lets out a wet, broken noise and topples hard. I strike it again below the jaw before it can even thrash.
I stand slowly, pulling my dagger free. I can already feel the bruise throbbing where the hoof connected. My body is trembling. Not from fear or pain or even the adrenaline—just from sheer exertion. My eyes still sting as the cold gnaws at every part of me.
I glance toward Deimos, just to make sure he saw that I’m still upright, still in this. Gods forbid he ever tell Remi or Ronin about this and it’s a story of how much of a liability I was.
I watch the line of trees where the last of the herd stomps—at least I hope it’s the last of the herd. Then I glance west, toward the mountains, toward Starfall. "Not exactly the easiest soil," I murmur. "But I guess rose gardening these days takes more than shears and a trowel."
Another luxere breaks through the trees—its gaze is dreadful, its gait violent. I charge before I have the chance to think better of it. The first strike misses. The second nicks it shallow. I get a hoof to the hip that knocks me sideways into a snowbank, but I roll, push up, and slam my blade into its side just under the ribs. It lets out a wet, broken noise and topples hard. I strike it again below the jaw before it can even thrash.
I stand slowly, pulling my dagger free. I can already feel the bruise throbbing where the hoof connected. My body is trembling. Not from fear or pain or even the adrenaline—just from sheer exertion. My eyes still sting as the cold gnaws at every part of me.
I glance toward Deimos, just to make sure he saw that I’m still upright, still in this. Gods forbid he ever tell Remi or Ronin about this and it’s a story of how much of a liability I was.
I watch the line of trees where the last of the herd stomps—at least I hope it’s the last of the herd. Then I glance west, toward the mountains, toward Starfall. "Not exactly the easiest soil," I murmur. "But I guess rose gardening these days takes more than shears and a trowel."
Theea
and covers me in silence so bright
