The taste of mud mixed with the blood in his mouth, but he didn't know to move. Perhaps it was time for him to decide what to do next. But he had hit a wall. He couldn't see anything beyond this forest, and the sunlight slipping in through the leaves. And the frozen lake...

When he finally lifted himself up, he felt that centuries had gone by and his head was as light as clouds. Then he remembered that he too was a Northerner. And there wasn't anyone better at channeling magic than the Northerners. Silver's channel of magic had frozen the lake and the town they rode away from, but how would he channel his magic?

The answer to that was quite clear to him. What would be better than this kind, ever so gentle forest to receive his magic? In this place where Silver was laid to rest, he intended to give away everything he had left too.

He placed his hand on his chest. Through all the bulk and roughness years had brought onto him, he could only barely sense his heart beating. But then, the wind didn't touch his face at all, so perhaps he was just numbed to feeling.

But then, it seemed fair to him that he should do this while facing Silver. So he turned around and raised his eyes to look at her. Thankfully, he couldn't see her face from where he was.

He moved his lips and said something, but it got lost in the wind, so that even he didn't know it. He knew there was peace though.

With one force of his hands, he pierced through his chest. He was instantly brought down to his knees, coughing blood. A trail of blood was quickly making its way towards the frozen lake. Surrendering the heart, the center of all magic, he could offer everything to the forest. He was gripping his heart in his clutches now, ready to rip it out.

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With heavy eyes, he looked up at Silver once more. A sigh escaped his mouth just before he heard a metallic, piercing sound. He quickly looked ahead again.

A sword had risen from the depths of the lake, now impaling Silver's body through the ice. Grey's eyes widened, his grip loosening on his heart. But his voice was lost. Baffled as he was, without any strength left in his body, he could only watch in agony. The lake melted, or rather vaporized into a sudden storm, engulfing them both and all the forest around them.

*****************

"Silva...", he knew now that the word had lost its meaning.

She turned to him, "Silva?"

She was alive, but not quite so. For one, she had never once questioned him calling her that.

"Let's leave here", he said, solemnly, realizing that whatever was lost couldn't be retrieved anymore.

She nodded. He avoided her gaze. She was holding the sword in her hand, examining it.

That sword had a blinding light in it when it came out of the lake. That light was gone now. The sword was just a husk. And Silver...she was alive.

But Grey knew what was inside her was older than age itself. Perhaps she was unaware of it for now, or perhaps she was pretending to be herself. He placed a hand on his now-closed chest. His heart was definitely in there. Now it looked like he was taking away everything he had with him, but really, the lake had replaced something much precious with a phantom he didn't know of. It looked like he hadn't lost anything, it surely did look like that.

"Silver", he said, accepting a death, "Come on."

Nodding, she followed him out of the thick forest, leaving the shimmering lake behind.