The forest did not grow warmer.
If anything, the cold deepened—settling into bone and breath alike. Frost crept along the roots of the trees, and the wind carried a weight that felt wrong, as though the night itself had grown heavy with watching eyes.
Anisda moved first.
He stepped past Thalia and her mother without a word, his boots soundless in the snow. He stood beside Elenara, his gaze lifting to the black canopy above them. The air stirred. He sniffed once, then again.
Something was coming.
He could not name it—but he felt it in the tightening of his chest, in the way the cold refused to loosen its grip.
Behind him, Thalia still knelt in the snow, her face streaked with tears. Elenara helped her gently to her feet, brushing snow from her shoulders. Thalia leaned into her mother for only a heartbeat longer, as though afraid the world might steal her again.
Anisda turned to them.
"The night will not spare you," he said quietly. "The frost will grow thicker with every hour. We must move."
Thalia wiped her face with the back of her glove and nodded. Her voice was hoarse."I understand."
She stepped away from her mother and stood beside Anisda.
Only then did she notice it—how naturally he and Elenara stood near each other, like warriors who had once fought the same war.
Her brows knit together."You… know each other."
Elenara did not answer at once. Anisda had already turned back toward the forest, walking ahead as though he had chosen their path long before this moment.
William and Vincent came to Thalia's side.
"What now?" Vincent asked, rubbing his arms. "Because I don't fancy freezing into a statue of myself out here."
Neither Thalia nor William answered.
William's eyes had fixed on Thalia's face—her red nose, her wet lashes, the way she swayed slightly as though the world had become too large too quickly.
He thought of losing his father.Then finding another.Then learning the truth of it all in the space of a breath.
He noticed something strange then.
"We can still see," he murmured. "And… I'm not as cold as I should be."
Vincent blinked."…You're right. I should be complaining much louder by now."
Thalia lifted her gaze slowly.
"It has to be her," she said softly.
They both looked at her.
"My mother."
Ahead of them, Anisda disappeared briefly into the darkness between the trees.
When he returned, he did not come alone.
Hooves broke the silence—slow, heavy, deliberate.
Three horses emerged from the forest.
But these were not living beasts.
Their fur was pale as bone, their eyes clouded and still. Steam did not rise from their nostrils. They moved as though guided by will alone, their steps silent upon the snow.
Dead horses.
Bred for winter. For the Welch Lands.
Anisda placed a hand on the nearest one's neck. It did not flinch.
"They will not tire," he said. "They will not feel the cold. Neither will you, while you ride them."
One by one, he brought the horses forward.
"To you," he said to Vincent.
Vincent stared at it."…I always wanted a horse. Didn't think it would be already dead."
"To you," Anisda said to William.
William mounted without a word.
Finally, Anisda turned to Thalia. Elenara stood beside her.
Thalia hesitated—then climbed onto the saddle. Elenara mounted the last horse and guided it forward until she rode just behind Anisda.
The formation was set.
Anisda led.Elenara behind him.Thalia beside her mother.William and Vincent at the rear.
They rode into the forest.
The hooves struck the ground with dull, hollow rhythm—thud… thud… thud—like a heartbeat beneath the snow. Branches bent away from them. Shadows fled from the torchlight.
Thalia guided her horse closer to Elenara.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
Elenara's gaze stayed forward."To the Welch House."
Thalia frowned."…The Welch Lands?"
Elenara nodded once."My home now."
Behind them, William leaned toward Vincent."Did you hear that?"
Vincent smirked faintly."Oh, I heard it. I'm just pretending not to be terrified."
"What did Thalia mean—it has to be her?" William asked.
Vincent shrugged."Clearly her mother has some… weather privileges."
They rode in silence after that.
The forest thinned.
The wind grew sharper.
And then—beyond the last row of black trees—the land opened.
They crested a hill.
And there it was.
A castle.
Not like the spires of Yainna.Not bright.Not proud.
This one was vast and dark, its towers swallowed by frost and mist. Stone walls rose from the snow like the ribs of some ancient beast. No banners flew. No light shone from its windows.
The Welch House.
Lost in winter.Waiting.
Thalia's breath caught in her throat.
"So this…" she whispered. "This is where you lived."
Elenara looked upon it as one might look upon a grave and a home all at once."Yes."
The horses slowed as they descended toward it, their hooves echoing across the frozen ground—alerting any creature that listened that something living dared to enter the cursed lands.
Far behind them, unseen, venomids followed their trail through blood and ash.
But for now, the path led only forward.
Into the frost.Into the past.Into the heart of the Welch Lands.
And the castle waited for them