The blizzard came suddenly, concealing the crossroads behind a thick, white fog. The man carried the fallen one on his back, his eyes couldn't identify the way back. They were destined to be buried under the snow and forgotten.

Then, she opened her eyes, and he felt shivers. As the world froze around him, the snow turned to rain. Its unusual warmth caressed man's tired cheeks.

Her bony, emaciated arm extended onward, over the man's shoulder, pointing at a blurry, white light behind the mist.

"Please, go this way." - Her faint voice was drowned out under the sound of surging raindrops.

They were in the middle of nowhere and it was the last ounces of man's strength. Yet, he saw hope there, but at the same time, doubted himself.

Should he go? He already could've made a mistake by freeing her, so even after her death, there was room for the triumph of chaos and calamity. Nonetheless, even worse could happen If he let it out to the human world alive.

Why did he have second thoughts? Knowing the exit, should he leave her here, to delay the inevitable, and live to keep this secret until the time of his death?

His legs got stuck in the snow, and he couldn't move. The rain got colder, then turned back to snow.

Time ticked away, the light was getting dimmer. He had to make his choice.

He had to make it out alive, climb out of the snow, and carry this burden. Oh, how he wished it would go away. He had to walk this path, cursed by his own choices.

Battling the blizzard, not knowing which is right, and which is wrong. He could no longer open his eyes and see the light. He and the fallen one were swallowed by darkness and gone.

[ . . . ]

"Open your eyes! Open your eyes!" - A harsh voice echoed in his skull, causing a migraine.

The sage lifted his eyelids and noticed inside of a wagon.

There was no trace of a fallen one, he was resting alone, under a thick fur blanket. Next to an elder man, in winter shaman clothes, who crushed herbs using a mortar and pestle, and next to a young villager in white fur, who was the one eagerly attempting to wake him up.

"I... I can't move." - The sage muttered out.

"Oh, you're alive! Alive! Just rest, we will take care of it." - The youngster assured with tears of happiness, then turned back and started hurrying other caravaneers by shouting in a foreign tongue.

A young female servant in a hooded leather dress appeared with a clay bowl of hot soup. The man took it and dismissed her, then with a wide smile, took a spoon and started to feed the sage. - "Eat! It has a lot of meat and good vegetables!"

The sage felt no hunger, but he couldn't say no to his savior's hospitality. He chewed on potatoes and carrot, coughing between his breaths. He would remember this taste, the taste of surviving and being alive.

When the man was finished, his young savior grinned – "Rest, rest!!" - He said as he departed to another wagon, leaving the man alone with the shaman.

The sage just stared at the wooden ceiling of a wagon, breathing in and out slowly, giving himself time. Minutes passed, his eyes occasionally peeked at his only escort, who was mumbling some mantra under his nose while mixing ground plants.

"Eh." - The sage finally exhaled deeply and gave in to his desire to assess the situation. - "Where are we traveling?"

The wrinkled man mumbled out a few more words before pausing, then put the mortar aside, next to sage's legs.

"Does your destination truly matter? All that matters is that you're alive."

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The sage just continued to stare at the ceiling for a moment. - "I suppose so."

"Now... let's check your legs."

"What's wrong with them?" - The sage asked calmly.

"Frostbite. It still has to heal." - The shaman explained, then moved a corner of the blanket away. The sage's legs were reddened and covered in a green ointment, which had been promptly and slowly re-applied.

"I suppose I won't be able to walk for several days or weeks, If at all."

"Indeed, it appears so." - The shaman uttered in monotone as he moved the blanket back again over the patient's feet.

The conversation discontinued, and after the shaman departed to another wagon, sage closed his eyes and fell asleep.

[ . . . ]

Forbidden soul, how cruel will you become? No one would know. Release your pain upon the world, unhand the spirits lost and left behind. Sister of night, embrace the memories of the past, sink deeper until your silent cries drown in the sea of their begging screams.

Their hunger, eternal. You left them unsated.

Tremble, for they are to come, to follow your heartbeat. Forgot of the promises tomorrow may bring, for your life is devoid of meaning. Forget the forgiveness, your flesh sold, becomes their aliment. Even If you cried out loud, nothing could ever reach you.

Your flower wilted, strangled by their filth.

Even If you crawled and sought, there would be no place to shelter you. Sister of blades, nurture steel with the blood, fight bravely my dear. Strike with fear, blacken your heart. Close your eyes, dance tonight, until the snow turns into a beautiful bed of roses

When in pain, fall again into my embrace.

Goodbye, baby, ahh, goodbye. Staring deeply in the grey empty sky, with the memories of what had happened. Oh, darling, my love. You ignite the passion that keeps me alive, I want to stay by your side. Just you and I, in the way you cry, there was no sweeter lullaby.

[ . . . ]

The entire world was shrouded by darkness, but the scary howling of white wyverns kept the caravan vigilant.

The sage woke in the middle of the night, breaking in a cold sweat. There was a heavy presence sitting on his chest.

"Why shouldn't I kill you?"

He recognized the voice.

"You stink, just like them. It's infuriating."

It was hissing to itself, unaware that the sage's senses were ware of her.

"I lost my innocence, why shouldn't I listen? None of them knows what it means to abandon all hope, all faith, all you once had. Squirming worm, you fought to save your own skin. Deprived of reverence for my torment. For the scars that can't be erased."

Sage's eyes were wide open. In the girl's hand was a sharp icicle.

"Why is it always me? Cursed with this damned fate?" - Warm tears dropped down from her tightly closed eyes, onto the sage's cheeks. - "Be gone, foul presence!"

The icicle pierced through sage's opened palm, its tip barely stopped in front of his eye.

"It'll never be the same." - She grasped the icicle with her second hand and started pushing downwards, but her scrawny physique was not enough to overcome the grown man's strength. - "I doubt you'll ever care."

"Hold on." - The sage spoke.

The fallen girl's eyes opened, anger and fury disappeared from her face and were replaced by a hollow expression. She spoke no further and only tried to push the cold dagger harder.

"I don't know your pain... but do not let it control you."

"Vain. Words."

"I... don't understand, but you're the only person who can save your soul right now. Make the right choice."

"No, you don't get it. There's no longer any saving. All the choices stopped to matter. All this weight is on my shoulders. All the monsters devouring each other deep inside me. After all that, whose heart is capable of not falling to pieces?"

"You're stronger than this. You fought against it."

"No, I didn't fight. I passively endured."

"...but you fight, right now. Realize, I'm not your enemy."

"Your very voice is my enemy. Don't you understand how much does it hurts, your blissful ignorance?"

The sage looked at the fallen one and spoke no further. He let the icicle free.

"...why?"

"If it's the only way to ease your burdens, so be it."

"I'll do it!" - The girl screamed threateningly and lifted her arm with the icicle high above her head.

The sage closed his eyes and remained silent. He laid his crossed arms on his chest, prepared to meet his fate.

"You're the worst!" - The girl screamed in anger and flung her arm at the sage, but it was stopped halfway through. She turned her face and realized, there was a young man behind her. - "Let me go!" She screamed and thrashed around, but the young man was adamant and kept holding her wrist.

"You knew! You knew it!" - She complained to the sage, but he was never aware of that.

"Your master is more than merciful, but I won't be. This is my caravan." - The young man turned to the sage. - "I apologize for the inconvenience, I'll throw her inside the cages, with other slaves."

"Slaves?" - The sage lifted his body, shocked.

The young man carefully examined the sage. - "Yes, slaves. I'm a slave merchant."

The situation changed dramatically. If only they had learned of her true origins, the situation would be dire. Sage felt a need to intervene, but there was very little he could do. - "Don't worry about it, I'll discipline her later."

"Let me go! I'm nobody's belonging!" - The girl screamed, protesting, but the young man pulled out a small bottle with sleep elixir and forced it down her lips, until the girl's limbs became limp. - "Sorry, but I can't risk the safety of the caravan. You can discipline her when your health gets better."