The snow had stopped. But in Solene's dream, it always fell.
Cold, quiet, endless.
She stood barefoot in the training courtyard, frost biting her soles, her hands trembling from hours of forced casting. Her fingers were blue, her lips chapped. Her body screamed for warmth, but no one offered any.
"You will stand there until you make the flame rise."
Her mother's voice echoed behind her, sharp and metallic.
"I can't," Solene whispered, her breath fogging in front of her.
"Louder."
"I—can't—"
A whip cracked through the air. It didn't touch her, but the sound made her flinch. She hated that.
From the balcony, Adriana Cael watched with folded arms and a face carved from stone.
"You're weak," her father said. "A shame to our name."
Solene stared at the frozen torch in front of her. Tried again to summon heat. Nothing. The frost clung to her skin like a second layer of failure.
"She is not fire," Alden mocked from the sidelines, lounging with his sword. "She is a dying season. Winter pretending to be alive."
The words hurt more than the wind.
But then—footsteps.
Not harsh. Not cruel. Measured. Fast.
Nerys.
She stormed into the courtyard, sword slung across her back, braid wind-tossed.
"Enough," she snapped. "She's a child, not a weapon."
"She's a Cael," their mother replied coldly.
"She's my sister," Nerys said, stepping between Solene and the flame. "You want to punish someone, punish me."
Adriana's voice didn't rise. It never needed to. "One more word, and I'll cut your inheritance in half."
"Take it," Nerys spat. "All of it. I don't want a name that feeds on its own."
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
Then, without another word, Nerys turned to Solene, knelt in the snow, and wrapped her cloak around her.
Solene had never cried in front of her family. Never dared.
But she did then. Quietly. Eyes squeezed shut. No sobs—just tears that froze as they slid down her cheeks.
Nerys pressed her forehead to Solene's.
"You're not broken," she whispered. "You're not weak. You're magic. And if they ever make you forget that—"
Her voice cracked.
"I'll remind you."
---
Back in the Cave – Present
Solene's eyes snapped open.
The cave was quiet. The fire low. Seraphyne slept on the other side, cloak pulled over her head, one hand still twitching from dreams of her own.
Solene sat up slowly. Her shoulder throbbed, but the real pain was deeper—buried in her chest like an old blade.
She rubbed at her face, her fingers coming away damp.
That moment with Nerys—her warmth, her fury, her promise—played over and over like a song stuck in broken chords.
"You're not broken. You're magic."
Solene didn't believe it.
Not yet.
But gods, she wanted to.
And if Nerys was still alive—if she kept her word—maybe she'd hear it again.
Not as a memory.
But as salvation.
---
The cold cave felt heavier when Solene awoke. The fire had dwindled to embers, and the shadows cast eerie shapes across the jagged walls. Her head throbbed, but it wasn't just from the wound. The weight of the memory pressed on her chest, suffocating her like a cloak made of ice.
She glanced to the other side of the cave.
Seraphyne was still asleep. Her breath steady and slow, her body curled into herself for warmth, despite the black fire she could summon at will. There was something strangely human about her in these quiet moments, her face softened by sleep, unguarded for once.
Solene sat up slowly, biting back the sharp pain from her shoulder as she moved. The wound was still there—raw, but the bleeding had slowed, and the frostbite around it had subsided. Her fingers traced the edge of the bandages, still damp with the remnants of Seraphyne's healing salves. She hadn't realized how much the memory of Nerys had drained her until now, how much it had pulled her back into a past she hated.
I'm not broken. I'm magic.
Solene clenched her fists, standing up on shaky legs. She didn't have time to wallow in old wounds. She couldn't afford to be weak—not now.
The night outside was still, the winds having died down. Snow blanketed the world, a sea of white as far as the eye could see. The landscape was both alien and familiar—reminding her of the mountains where she used to train, where her family would drill her mercilessly until the cold turned her heart into an iceberg. They'd made her believe she was nothing more than that—frost, broken and sharp.
But she wasn't broken. Not yet.
She gathered her things and packed them quickly, though her hands were still a little unsteady. The fire was almost dead, and the first light of dawn peeked through the entrance of the cave, casting soft beams across the snow-laden ground.
A rustle behind her.
Solene turned to see Seraphyne stir, slowly pushing herself up with a groan. Her raven-black hair fell in tangles around her face, her crimson eyes flicking open to meet Solene's gaze.
"Morning," Seraphyne said, her voice rough from sleep. "You've already moved in, I see."
Solene's lips quirked into a faint, tired smile. "I didn't want to wake you. You need the rest."
"Hmm, right." Seraphyne yawned and stretched, her limbs long and lean. "But we'll need to get moving soon if we want to make it to the ridge by sundown."
"Agreed," Solene said, glancing toward the opening of the cave. "We don't want to waste time. There's no telling what might be waiting for us."
Seraphyne stood and moved toward the embers, squatting beside them to poke at the fire. The black flame curled around her fingertips as she reignited it, the soft blue light flickering to life in the dark. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in telling me more about your plans once we reach this...ridge?" she asked, her tone curious, but there was something else behind her question. A needling edge, as if she was trying to coax out a deeper truth.
Solene paused, the weight of the question pulling at her. She didn't owe this woman anything—certainly not the painful history she carried. But something about the way Seraphyne had stood beside her, blood and fire both present, made Solene hesitate.
"I'm waiting for someone," Solene replied quietly, her voice raw. The words felt like an anchor, weighing her down. "Someone I need to find."
Seraphyne's gaze softened, but her lips pressed together. She didn't push, though there was an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air. She knew Solene wasn't about to offer more. Not now.
"Fair enough," Seraphyne said, rising to her feet. "Let's just hope you find her."
Solene nodded but didn't reply. She didn't want to explain. She didn't even know how.
The two women gathered their packs in silence, moving toward the cave's exit. Solene's fingers twitched involuntarily, frost crawling across the tips as she stepped into the cold, but she quickly stilled it. She couldn't let the storm inside her spill out into the world. Not yet. Not until it was necessary.
The air outside was crisp, biting. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked side by side, their footprints the only marks in the freshly fallen blanket. The world felt barren, stripped down to its most brutal elements. It was the same kind of emptiness Solene felt inside—cold, vast, and aching.
They walked for hours, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Solene could feel the pull of the past, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. Nerys. Her promise. The fire that she could never escape.
And yet, there was something here, with Seraphyne. A bond forged in shared survival. In fire and frost. Something more than just convenience.
"How far are we?" Solene asked, breaking the silence.
"Maybe half a day," Seraphyne replied, her eyes scanning the horizon ahead. "But we'll be in the mountain passes by nightfall, and that's where we'll need to keep our guard up. There are creatures that roam these ridges."
"I know." Solene's voice was steady now, more sure of herself. "We'll make it."
Seraphyne glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't think you'd be this confident after the way you fought yesterday."
Solene's mouth tightened into a line. "I fight when I have to."
"And when you want to."
Solene didn't answer. She didn't need to.
They walked on, the quiet hum of the wind wrapping around them as they moved further into the mountains. Every step felt like a journey toward something more than just survival. Every step took Solene closer to what she was—what she could be, if she could only let go of the past.
By the time the sun began to dip low on the horizon, casting an orange glow over the snowy peaks, the ridge loomed ahead—steep and jagged, like the edge of a broken world.
Solene paused, staring at the silhouette of the mountains against the fading light. Something cold twisted in her gut, something darker than hunger.
She had no idea what awaited her at the top of those ridges.
But she would face it. For herself. For Nerys.
For the woman she was waiting for.
---