It wasn’t the first time she had taken the wrong turn.

It seemed to her like life was a merry-go-round and she was sitting on one of the horses, glued, still, helpless, watching the world around her in circles; every time she left a scene behind her it would change, turn more blue, more cold, until she ends up completely surrounded by snow. She didn’t have time to think where exactly she went wrong, which wrong turn she had taken and which wrong door she had opened; all she knew was that she had been walking through snow for hours, and it didn’t look like she would find shelter soon.

Kyle was walking next to her in silence. He didn’t know how to respond to the fact that the Headquarters sent Meredith Brown to help them. To spy on them and wait for the perfect moment to reveal herself. Where had she been? There wasn’t anything but snow around. Were they all so lost in their fears that they didn’t notice her, or was there someone else there? Someone who was still hiding and waiting for the perfect moment. That thought alone made the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he discreetly turned to his left, then his right, to make sure no one was watching him. But there was only snow.

“How did we end up here?” Kyla let out, startling Kyle. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, confused by is reaction.

“Nothing,” he replied nonchalantly. “I guess we should have turned right somewhere. We only took lefts.”

“Because that’s what it said in the manual,” Kyla replied. Then something awful and by all means possible crossed her mind. “You don’t think Elaine messed with the manual, do you?” she asked, forgetting it was not Thomas she was talking to.

He would have agreed in a heartbeat, but Kyle only dismissed it as her paranoia. “And why would she do that?”

“I don’t fucking know, Kyle. Does anything she does make any sense ever?!” she snapped.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Stop swearing at me.”

“I will swear at you as much as I want to. Asshole.”

Kyle knew about everything, all the Ravens did. He knew about the Six, the original plan, the manipulation, the exploitation of Diane Hunster, and yet…

“I have to ask you something?” Kyla said uncomfortably.

“Go ahead.”

“I mean, I just don’t understand. Do you really think that what Elaine is doing is right? Do you condone it?”

Kyle sighed. “It’s more complicated than that and you know it.”

Kyla debated whether she should answer to that remark and decided against it. She just wanted to find a way to make this journey more bearable; and with Thomas walking in front of everyone, his chin almost making a hole in his neck, and her last option being Meredith Brown, Kyle seemed like the best choicce. Even though she never seemed to control her temper when talking to him.

“What do we do if don’t come across a village soon?” she asked Kyle.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I guess we die.”

Kyla frowned. “Funny, Kyle.”

She head him chuckle. “Maybe Miss Brown knows.”

“Ask her.”

He chuckled again. “No way. She’s your friend.”

“She’s not my friend…”

“She used to be.”

“Yes, before she faked her own death and…”

“Alright, whatever,” he commented and turned his head away from her.

The snow only continued to pile up around them, carried left and right by the sharp wind. Kyla bowed her head to shake off the snow that had fallen on the top of it. The only two sounds now were the wind and the squeaking of the snow under their feet. Two of their teammates were dead now. Kyla only met them in passing, but Kyle was in the same squad as them. They had been taught to abandoned attachments, to move on regardless of how many perish, but she knew he felt that void she felt, that confusion, and anger. Why was it always them? She prayed Kyle would say anything so she wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

Anything.

Anything.

“What happened to your arm?” he finally asked, quieter than before.

Anything but that.

“Elaine blew up Thomas’s house to scare Diane,” she replied dryily. She hoped he would continue asking question in that low, unstable tone.

“I guess that’s what happens to people like us,” he commented.

Kyla narrowed her eyebrows as she felt a surge of discomfort cloud her jugdement. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re an orphan and I was sold off to the Ravens. We are bound to end up as unfortunate casualties for the bigger fish. That’s just how the world works.”

He had strange moments like this whenever people died, like he would suddenly come to terms with his own insignificance, or simply lose control and let those convictions out on the open. She was always around when it happened, and it always pulled at a few of her strings, welted at her brain, and made her nauseous. She despised him every time he made her think that Diane Hunster may have been just a tiny bit selfish because she couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to live without a crown on one’s head.

“I hate it when you talk like there’s nothing we can do,” Kyla mumbled but he somehow heard it.

“We can,” he replied equally quietly. He looked at her through his glasses; hers were glistening, probably because of the snow. “We can change the world.”

And then Thomas turned around, put his hands next to his mouth and yelled, “It’s a village!”

And a village it was. It was much closer to them them than they had expected, its visibility reduced due to the snowfall and the sudden appearance of a tick fog. Kyla took Thomas and Kyle by their hands so they wouldn’t get separated. When they emerged from the cloud, they had already passed the first few houses in the village; but the visibility didn’t improve all that much. What she could guess from the blurry lines was that it was a typical Icelean village: snow-covered roads, white houses covered in a thick, perfectly polished layer of ice; Kyla imagined that, during the days when there was sunlight, the light would reflect on the houses and paint them some less monotonous color. A few people were outside, doing this and that, not paying them much attention. Kyla found it odd considering that not many people came to such a secluded village, but she contributed it to their uniforms and the overall mentality of Iceleans. That coldness, hostility, reflected in the lack of lamplight that characterized their habitats, the places where they put down their roots and refused to ever leave; that was, at least, what it looked like to Kyla. There really was nothing more to the village than those houses, all the same, and a few buildings, if they could be called such, that somewhat stood out due to their architecture, and they were all lined up in what seemed to be the village center. Kyla was more and more bothered by the clear apathy of the white-haired people they passed as they trespassed more and more into their territory.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“How do they see anything?” Thomas asked her like she expected him to.

“They’re Iceleans, Thomas. They don’t exactly mind the snow.”

“But can they see through this fog?” he went on, now rambling about visibility and the cold and the streetlamps. He would always get lost in random thoughts whenever he was stressed or anxious, and the common whiteness didn’t help at all.

But that wasn’t all that was bothering Thomas Hammer. He had thought about it excessively and came to the following conclusion: the Swan, just like the rest of the known members of the Six, must have had a connection to the first Legendary Six. Diane was the queen of Crystalia; Isaac was the direct descendant of His Majesty King Claude of Florus, an original member; his own mother was a legendary Raven captain, an order created by Clara Heal, and Elaine… Well, she was the only one who didn’t fit the mold, but that was also predictable. So, his first guess was the current princess of Iceleus, the next queen, Princess Anne of Iceleus, also a direct descendant of a Six member. But that also didn’t rule out any possible illegitimate children her father might have had in secret, which meant that any person, any person at all who passed him by and was around his age could have been the Swan. This fact alone was enough to send Thomas down an endless tunnel of faces he tried desperately to remember as he walked deeper into an unknown territory.

Where do I even begin? Elaine must have a thorough plan. She already has days’ worth of advantage. I must act quickly.

“There’s an inn here. We should stay the night,” Meredith suddenly said. It was the first comment she had made since they started walking in a straight line a few hours ago, a comment that Thomas couldn’t get out of his head. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was about that comment that made his soul freeze and send warning signals to every cell in his body.

Kyla’s here. There’s nothing to be afraid of. They won’t harm you.

But it wasn’t fear. It was hatered. It was a wish to do unspeakable things to this young woman, to transcend morals and etiquette and make her… disappear. Because she, as tall, blonde, and red-eyed as she was, reminded him of Him. That monster who played Thomas for a fool. That monster who ruined his life. Would He be half as miserable as Thomas if the Flamer killed His sister? Was He even able to feel sorrow or remorse? Did He even remember him?

“Thomas, hurry up!” Kyla yelled and pulled him by the sleeve. “You have to focus. Really. We don’t have time for doubt. You need to get a grip.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the millions of thoughts he had refusing to leave him alone.

He let Kyla drag him into the inn. The sound of the door closing, the warmth, and the smell of pastries brought him round. The room was small, the wall with the window about three strides away from the door; it was small enough to fit a table and three chairs, one long and narrow cabinet connecting the floor with the ceiling, and a small piano against the right wall, but no chair in front of it. Thomas found the furnishing choices odd at best but it all made much more sense once the owner appeared. He was almost as tall as the room itself, two times wider than the cabinet, and as grim as he was pale. He looked to his bones displeased with the disturbance.

“You’re the guests?” he asked without even trying to appear polite. He rubbed his hands together and scanned them but in a strangely harmless way.

“Yes,” Meredith replied.

“They’ll come for you tomorrow,” he announced, gave them two keys and disappeared.

Kyla leaned towards Thomas. “I guess Elaine knew we would end up here, so she made little preparations. I knew she was the one who changed the manual.”

But Thomas didn’t reply; he was suddenly intolerably tired. So, he excused himself and went up the narrow, steep staircase right to his left. On the first floor were a tiny hallway, two rooms, and a door with a sign: “NOT FOR GUESTS (FROM OUTSIDE)”. Thomas’s eyelids were so heavy he didn’t comprehend the strange sign and simply threw himself into his and Kyle’s room. It was small, like the rest of the inn, with baby blue walls and two beds with white cotton sheets. There was a table under the window with some paper, and a singular pen on it. Thomas lay on the bed and closed his eyes.

It took him far too long to fall asleep; he could not shake off the pictures that were racing through his head one after the other. This state of lethal tiredness and infuriating liveliness of the mind made him want to scream. Two people had already died. Two people whose names he didn’t bother to learn. It seemed like a pattern now, and that terrified him more than anything; was he become the kind of person who didn’t care? And how does one stop the mind from repeating the same questions over and over again? Would he ever be free from these bursts of guilt and insecurity? When he finally did fall asleep, it was not for long. He dreamt of nothing but snow, and when he suddenly woke up, the spotless white sheets of the bed next to his made him nauseous. So, he turned to the left side and away from the window and snow. But sleep wouldn’t come. And neither would Kyle. Once he determined that there was no point in tossing and turning and wondering where his roommate might be, Thomas put on his shoes and slowly opened the door to his room.

Everything was just as he had left it, only dark and soundless. Thomas leaned against the opposite door trying to hear if Kyla was inside; when he determined that the women were breathing, one louder than the other, he carefully made his way downstairs. Not even the staircase creaked, so it was completely silent. Downstairs, in the room dominated by the awful furniture, was a woman. She was standing in front of the window looking outside, wearing a dress, probably a nightgown, her hair down.

Thomas cleared his throat. The woman turned around, not doing anything to light up the room and see who was disturbing her peace.

“May I help you?” she asked, her voice echoing through the deadness of the inn.

“Sorry, but who are you?” Thomas asked quietly. “I thought we were the only guests…”

“I’m not a guest. I live here for the time being,” she stated as if it was common knowledge.

“Oh,” Thomas mumbled, “I appologize.”

Thomas expected her to turn back around and ignore him, but she didn’t. She watched his silhouette through the dark, not moving a millimeter, not making a sound. He traced with his eyes the shape of her head against the light coming from the outside; only then did he realize that the lanterns were lit slightly more than before.

“They turned on the lights,” he commented. Something about the scene didn’t sit right with him.

She stood still. “Of course they did,” she replied in the same manner as before, only this time she added, “Would you rather they came back in the dark?”

There was buzzing in Thomas’s ears. “Who?”

“The workers?”

It only grew louder. “And where are they coming from?”

“The desert, of course.”

Thomas smiled awkwardly though she couldn’t see him. “I appologize but I don’t…”

“Where are you from?” It was incredible how neither her voice nor her posture changed one bit.

“Crystalia,” he replied. “But I’m a Flamer.”

“A Flamer in Crystalia. Odd.”

Thomas chuckled. “You think so?”

“I do,” she replied dryily. But there was a little hint of something, longing perhaps, that tickled Thomas’s ears. It was too quiet in the inn not to notice it, even though his ears were still buzzing.

“Would you like to go there?” Thomas blurted out.

She didn’t respond immediately; it seemed like she was seriously thinking. “I don’t think so. Everywhere’s the same anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas knew that some questions were better left unanswered. He also knew that there was a reason why Eliane wanted him to experience this village, Iceleus in a bottle, the perfect specimen of this country which had existed since the existence itself.

“People like us work, die, starve, so that some can enjoy chocolate soap. And when we as much as whisper about discontent… It’s been five years since my husband was sent to clean the snow. He has served his time. So, why hasn’t he come back yet?”

Thomas didn’t expect her to say so much; unfortunately, it meant absolutely nothing to him. “Can you, uhm, please…”

She groaned. “When you ‘rebell’ against the king you are sent to the desert to clean the snow. Why? Well, because it would make any intelligent man go mad. Alone in the desert for years, cleaning layers upon layers of snow as you watch it build up over and over again, and praying one of the giants would come and eat you alive.” When she made a break, Thomas took a deep breath. “I sincerely hope my husband was eaten the moment he stepped into that desert. But I am still here, aren’t I? Waiting like the rest of the people.”

Thomas’s ears went quiet. No sensation disturbed her words which put new weight on his mind. “What do they eat?” was all he asked.

“They bring them lunch,” she replied with disgust. But that was truly the only thing he was capable of asking. Everything else felt to cruel, too personal, too immoral; like what he had done to deserve such punishment.

Probably nothing. No, there must have been something. She’s his wife, so of course…

“I’m going back to bed,” he said, very much focusing on his breathing. “Say hello to Elaine for me, will you?”

“It’s the truth, you know,” the woman said to the empty space; he was already climbing up the stairs, less careful. “Regardless of what you think of it, it is the truth. That some people’s lives are worth more than the other’s.”

Thomas smiled. “Elaine would know all about that, I am sure. Good night, miss. I hope your husband comes back safe.”

“That makes one of us, Flamer.”