The snow finally stopped.
Louis stood atop Red Tide Castle, gazing far into the snow-clad mountains and ruins.
A sliver of early spring sunlight barely penetrated the clouds, illuminating the rooftops and fields that had not yet fallen during the harsh winter.
The temperature was slowly rising, with tiny cracks appearing on the frozen river, and the steam vents were more vigorous than a few days ago.
But this did not mean that spring had arrived in the Northern Territory.
Although the recent snow was lighter, the number of refugees outside the Red Tide Territory continued to grow.
They appeared in groups, wrapped in tattered blankets, fingers cracked and bound with twine, some carrying the sick, others dragging corpses, and more women clutching babies, kneeling by the main road to Red Tide. Their eyes long devoid of tears, only numbness and the instinct to survive remained.
"Please... we don't ask to live, just let the children in..."
