A week after arriving, Sammy and Julie stood at the northern gate, ready to leave. Their carefully curated packs were on Sammy’s back, Julie holding a sled. There was no fanfare, no well-wishing crowd, only two guards and Dr Monnay. The two guards didn’t even pay attention after Dr Monnay mumbled something about them wanting to camp on the ice, just giving a reminder to not go far lest the wild beasts wander across them.

“If we haven’t returned after three weeks, please open this,” Sammy said, passing Dr Monnay an envelope.

It didn’t need to be said what kind of letter was inside. Dr Monnay had to stop herself from scrunching the letter, her hands wanting to clench. “Okay.”

With that, the hero and her wife set off. Only time could tell if they would return.

The outpost was situated just far enough from the ice sheet to still farm. However, the farmland looked rather different. Instead of rows, the crops were planted in sunken aisles, dug down to keep away the worst of the biting wind. Some places had wooden or stone windbreaks, or long mounds of dirt like low walls. Most of the plants growing looked wild and leafy or were (presumably) root vegetables, growing underground. Sammy guessed these were the hardier crops.

While Sammy looked around, Julie finally broke and said, “I can carry more.”

Sammy’s mouth quirked into a smile. “In case you have forgotten just how much stronger I am, be thankful I am not carrying you as well.”

For a moment, Julie considered replying, then realised that she had forgotten. Or rather, she didn’t even know in the first place. Sammy could effortlessly draw a bow meant for a soldier. Beyond that, Julie didn’t know.

However, Julie was spurred on, keeping her pace quick. Since Sammy had reminded her, the least she could do was walk fast. Not too fast, but as fast as she could walk for hours without tiring.

Smile softening, Sammy matched her wife’s pace, an easy pace to keep.

The farmland didn’t last for an hour before making way to grass like moss. Other than that, there was nothing. Over the next couple of hours, the grass grew patchier and browner before dying out entirely as a slight slush covered the barren ground, the top layer of ice melting in the day and refreezing at night.

Soon after, there was only ice.

Sammy and Julie couldn’t see well with their snowglasses, but there wasn’t much to see any more, their eyes only there to keep them from stumbling on the uneven surface. Sammy tugged along the sled laden with their packs and Julie focused on walking with the studded boots. It felt weird, but she couldn’t deny she felt more secure than before; the mental effort it took to walk carefully on ice had drained her more than she’d realised.

The wind poked and prodded at their clothing, looking for any skin. Between the fur clothing and the thick scarves and the heavy cloak, there wasn’t much for it to reach, Julie especially glad with the snowglasses as even that tiny slit let in a painful cold if she stared into the wind. If they weren’t already looking down to mind their steps, they would have to avoid the wind.

What Julie was most thankful for, though, was her wife’s amazing invention. While the furs did an incredible job of keeping her body warm, her pockets had what Sammy called hand warmers. A small, metal bottle, covered in leather, filled with just a bit of water and divine fire. When she had to use her hands for something, like drinking small beer, it was amazing to be able to warm up her fingers so quickly.

That became especially true after their first toilet break—there was only so much a windbreak could do.

However, Sammy was plenty helpful herself. They stopped for lunch, took out a large pot, and then dug out a chunk of ice. A click of her fingers and they had a roaring fire. Again, it wasn’t necessary to keep them warm, but Julie sat close, her fingers staying toasty.

Travelling with the hero was awfully convenient.

After a long afternoon travelling, they set up a “camp”. There were no trees to hang a canvas over, not even darkness, and the ground was cold. But there was a sled, raised off the ground, so that was where the “bed” was, and some metal poles were stuck into the ice to hold the canvas sheet, breaking the wind.

Sammy took the first sleep, Julie sitting beside her, holding her hand. There was no need to, no need for a reason to. Even after Sammy fell asleep, Julie stayed there, only straying when the fire needed more ice and once when she needed to pee.

After six hours or so, Sammy awoke and they had a meal, then Julie took her turn to sleep, Sammy sitting there the whole time, holding her hand. The sun could have perhaps been called set for an hour or two, but the sky remained light, more like dusk blending into dawn. When Julie woke up, they ate again.

Before setting off, Sammy carefully covered their eyes with holy water. “Better to be safe than blind,” she said lightly, Julie politely chuckling back.

Then there was ice, endless ice.

The little they spoke were Sammy’s updates on where she felt wild beasts. Back at the outpost, she’d felt them approach, but they seemed wary, perhaps because of the guards. Now, they stalked behind. She had no way to know and yet knew they were waiting to amass enough.

That said, Sammy did try something. More experienced with her blessings, whenever they stopped, she metaphorically pinched the connection between herself and the divine. It left her feeling weak, but the wild beasts seemed to lose interest in her. If possible, she wanted to avoid fighting, so she used the idle hours of the day to experiment.

By the third day, the ice was maddening. There weren’t even clouds in the sky. If not for all her training, Julie was sure she would have broken down. One, two, one, two, she thought, an endless loop for the endless ice and endless sky and endless wind and endless walk.

While Julie had nothing to entertain her, Sammy had something less than entertaining. Sammy felt the pull. It was inexplicable and yet visceral, magnetic, drawn to something she had thought before a whim. The divine power inside her yearned.

Lilith.

Every step felt lighter, whispering to run. The unfathomable distance seemed insignificant.

More disturbing, Sammy could believe it. She could believe that, if she left Julie behind, she could run the distance in a day. There wasn’t a need for Julie to confront Lilith with her. It would be safer for Julie.

Poison, poison Sammy could only resist because she knew these words came from the gods, resonating with the divine power flowing through her. Nothing could separate her from Julie. Nothing would.

So the third day ended.

Once they set off again, Sammy struggled to keep the right pace. Her body burned with excess energy and her mind fought her urges while trying to keep track of the wild beasts. Ones like wolves stalked closest, those like deer going ahead to cut them off, and then there were larger ones catching up, abominations, perhaps as large as the one that had attacked the Royal Palace.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Over lunch, Sammy said, “We may need to go faster.”

Julie heard those words and lost her appetite, forcing the food down anyway. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can always go on the sled,” Sammy said.

Mouth thin, hands clenched, Julie struggled before giving up her ego. “Okay,” she whispered.

After lunch, Sammy set off at a faster pace and Julie kept it as long as she could, then sat on the sled. Looking behind them, she thought she could see flickers of black on the horizon. No wonder Sammy brought it up—not that Julie had doubted her wife had a reason, hadn’t even needed to ask to know.

By evening, or what counted for it, those flickers had disappeared, Sammy settling down to sleep.

“If you see them cross the horizon, ready the weapons. Only wake me if they approach,” Sammy said.

“Mm, I will,” Julie said.

Hour after hour trickled by, Julie scanning across the horizon every few minutes. More than a few times, she thought she saw a flicker and jumped up, only to realise her eyes were playing tricks. Still, not long before Sammy awoke, Julie spotted a distant shadow.

If they were anywhere else in the world, she wouldn’t have thought much of it.

“Is everything okay?” Sammy asked, sitting up and rubbing her face through the scarf.

“I see something,” Julie said. After hesitating for a moment, she shared what she’d thought of: “How about I sleep on the sled as you pull it? They’ll catch up if we stay here.”

Sammy smiled, stretching out her arms and legs, then carefully stood up. “They’re… attracted to the divine power flowing through me. I can suppress it while you sleep.”

Frowning, Julie asked, “Why are they still following us, then?”

“The divine power gives me my strength,” Sammy said.

“Oh.” Julie patted the back of her head, embarrassed, once again punished for doubting her wife. “I’ll sleep,” she mumbled.

However, Sammy didn’t let her wife escape, saying, “Eat first.”

“Right….”

Their fresh rations finished, they gnawed on dried meat and washed it down with a little drink of small beer. Only then died Julie settle in to sleep. Sammy waited to hear her wife’s breathing change, then pinched the flow of divine power coming into her body. It was like becoming sick, not that she had ever been unwell, but the symptoms matched what she’d read of the flu. Her body felt heavy, her mind less clear. Without burning ice for heat, she also felt a slight chill creep in, curling up tight, clutching her hand warmers.

Even her eyesight seemed worse, but she could still see the ominous shadows around the horizon, and she watched them skulk away with a relieved sigh.

It was a long six hours before Julie awoke. Once Sammy noticed her wife stirring, she let the divine power return, unwilling to show such weakness to Julie. Not now. And she started on breakfast: steaming the meat, as well as breaking the hard bread into bits and mixing it with mashed potato, making a very strange, but starchy, porridge. After tasting it, Sammy was glad they’d brought along some spices.

Uncritical of her wife’s cooking, Julie ate quickly, gaze constantly flicking to the horizon. The fathomless depth of dread lying beneath the surface made her think nothing could distract her.

Then Sammy asked, “Are you constipated? I noticed you haven’t been since we left the outpost.”

Right now, that could only get an awkward smile out of Julie. “I’m fine.”

“I asked Dr Monnay for some medications and she included a local remedy—some kind of vegetable oil,” Sammy said, rattling that off before turning to their cooking fire. “Are you drinking enough? We should keep some water.”

Julie wasn’t oblivious as to why Sammy was so fixated on this, knowing she’d be the same if she thought anything was wrong with Sammy. So she took a deep breath and calmly said, “Give me a minute,” while picking up the shovel from their packs.

But a kind gesture couldn’t go unpunished. “Would you like me to rub your tummy? I heard that helps,” Sammy said.

Julie had no answer, but the intense fear that Sammy would repeat the question made her say, “I’m fine!” Not daring to dally, she strode off as fast as her boots let her.

Though there wasn’t exactly privacy in the icy wasteland, Julie found a ledge to squat behind and, when she glanced over, was relieved that Sammy wasn’t looking her way. Just because they’d grown close in some ways didn’t mean they were close in every way.

When Julie returned, Sammy gave her a sweet smile. “Feel better?”

Julie looked away, embarrassed to admit it. “Yeah,” she mumbled, returning the shovel.

The moment of strange normalcy passing, they returned to their journey. Julie followed Sammy’s intense pace for a couple of hours, then sat on the sled, watching behind as they travelled for hours more.

There was no sign of the shadows before lunch, but, as they prepared to set off afterwards, she saw them, lurking. Not just the wolf-like wild beasts, but bigger ones, their silhouettes dragging Julie back to the attack on the Royal Palace—to the guards and servants left dying, flesh eaten away by corruption.

Feeling Sammy walk to her side, Julie asked, “What do we do?”

Sammy clenched her hands tightly, the pain calming. “I will kill them all and injure those I can’t. Pull me on the sled after. Do not stop. There are few ahead of us, so we will only fight when we can’t advance, but there are still many, many more coming from the south. Do you understand?”

Julie did. Following orders was engraved into her bones, following Sammy’s lead engraved into her soul. It sounded like a reasonable plan too. Probably, it was their best chance.

But she had one question she needed answered: “Will you die?”

“I still have to confront Lilith, so it is too soon for that,” Sammy said.

Julie lowered her head. “I understand,” she said softly.

“Stay on the sled until we fight. You shall need your strength to pull me,” Sammy said.

“Okay.”

The last days had been nothing but quiet, yet now Julie felt this was the quiet before the storm. The scraping sound of the sled, the slight crunch with Sammy’s footsteps, the measured, but deep, breaths, and the hum of the wind, all muffled by the scarf around Julie’s face.

Heart constricted, Julie now knew what it felt like to be hunted. Knew that, no matter how fast they went, how far they went, those shadows would return. Knew that, eventually, those shadows would cover the horizon in all directions. Knew there was no escape, only inevitable violence.

And all she could do to help was sit there and drink water.

She yearned for the maddening emptiness of before, for the years crying herself to sleep, for the numbing realisation that her mother wouldn’t wake up, no matter how many times she shook that thin shoulder.

Anything but this.

But this was what she had.

Julie watched the shadows disappear and let out a deep sigh, hoping Sammy could make enough distance to sleep. Another hour passed, another, then—

Sammy slowed down.

A chill rolled through Julie, mind roiling. She didn’t dare turn around to look ahead, yet the thought of asking Sammy why—the thought of hearing Sammy answer—was too painful to consider.

So Julie turned, the thin slit of sight she had wavering around to find the horizon ahead of them.

And her heart clenched.

Coming to a stop, Sammy asked, “Do you need to pee?”

Julie shook her head, only realising after a second that Sammy wasn’t looking at her. “No.”

“It might be worth having a try. At least for me, I hate to think what would happen if I wet myself while unconscious,” Sammy said.

Though not said at all lightly or like a joke, Julie felt like she’d never heard something so funny in her life. Manic. Manic, but she could barely smile. “I’ll try too,” she said, thinking she wouldn’t have time to waste after the battle.

Not just that, they ate and drank the last of the small beer, an unnatural calmness as darkness began to surround them, closing in on them.

But that was exactly where they wanted the wild beasts. “The farther they are, the harder it is to use my blessings,” Sammy said, picking up her sword and shield. “With how many, I shan’t bother with the bow either.”

“Okay,” Julie said, idly holding her own sword and shield.

Silence, silence but for the wind’s whispers, for her pulse pounding in her ears, for the rumble she felt through her feet more than heard. After five days without a night, darkness fell under the sun’s light in a perverted eclipse.

Once they could see the red of the wild beasts’ eyes, they took off their snowglasses and lowered their scarves for a kiss. A last kiss, much like their first, gentle and soft and full of hope that more would come.

Then they stood a few steps apart, the sled between them.

“I love you,” Sammy said, her voice muffled by scarf when both said and heard, yet Julie heard it clearly, resonating with her heart.

“I love you,” Julie said, sincere, earnest, and honest. Sammy could hear each in those three words, similar as they were. A sincere love, returning her affections. An earnest love, affection freely given to her. An honest love, untainted by obligation or guilt.

The kind of love Sammy had wished for—had undergone this journey for. How worth it it was, she thought, death a small price to pay.

While wife and wife were at peace, it wasn’t to be. Sammy had put Julie to the north where the horse-like wild beasts approached from, thinking them less threatening, the swarm from the south full of wolves and worse.

But these horses ran faster.

Julie readied herself, braced for impact. Covered in thick clothing, she didn’t fear the corruption, more than willing to take some pain to give Sammy a few more seconds—to make their chances that little better.

Only for the first charge to land heavy, forcing her back, just that her feet wouldn’t move, studs stuck into the ice. So she fell backwards, body in shock from the hit, arms unwilling to move fast enough, falling, falling so slowly, so quick, and all she could think as she caught a last glimpse of her wife was: “I failed her.”

Then her head struck the ice and everything went black.