the monsters turned out to be just trees

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

Remi looked across the frosty distance that separated the two men. It felt so large just then the alchemist might have thought he needed to shout. Instead, he looked down at his fingers, pushing his nails into the pads of them and realizing just how numb they'd gone without gloves.

"Ronin is dying Loren. And quickly. He has not been home in weeks, and the last time I saw him?" The alchemist looked up sharply, the indescribable hurt etched across his face like a relief painting. His voice was thin and far away, his breathing shallow. Exhaling a puff of white air, Remi grimaced and looked up into the tree branches. "It has progressed so far. Already the blight has claimed lives. Plants, small animals. There is no reason to think that Vi's plan will save everyone who has been infected."

Remi's lip trembled, but he bit the inside of it with a determined snarl.

"What do I feel, Loren?" The alchemist asked, eyes narrowed at the summoner. "What am I meant to feel, my husband of only a few weeks killing things for fun, trying to kill me, and only days away from death, but here I am, traipsing through the enchanted woods with you of all people."