The snow never melted on the northern wall. Even when the sun broke through the clouds, the light felt thin, too weak to warm the stone. Kairo stood guard at dawn, his breath drifting across the parapet like smoke. The others talked quietly, trading jokes to stay awake. He didn't join them. He rarely did anymore.
Since Duskfall, the fortress had grown quieter around him. Men nodded but didn't meet his eyes. The story had travelled faster than any messenger: the ghost of Norveil spared a rebel child and froze the ground solid. Some called it mercy; others called it proof of a curse. Either way, he was no longer just another soldier.
He shifted his weight, fingers tightening on the railing. Frost spider-webbed under his gloves, thin as glass. He pulled his hand back and flexed it. The mark of the Specter Heart, pale veins under the skin, was spreading toward his wrist.
Garron's boots scraped on stone behind him. "You're early again."
Kairo didn't turn. "Couldn't sleep."
"You ever sleep?"
"Sometimes," he said. "When the heart lets me."
Garron leaned beside him, breath clouding in the air. "They sent you up here to keep you quiet. Don't give them reason to remember you."
"I didn't ask to be remembered."
"Good," Garron muttered. "Because Norveil forgets fast."
The day passed in slow, frozen hours. Drills at mid-morning, rations at noon, weapon checks until dusk. Kairo moved through it like a shadow, the rhythm of obedience dulling his thoughts. The younger soldiers still watched him when they thought he wasn't looking. Some with fear, a few with admiration. He ignored both.
At evening mess, the hall was thick with the smell of stew and smoke. Rhett, the boy from Duskfall, sat across from him, eyes bright. "They say the command's planning another sweep," he whispered. "Iron Pass. Miners refusing tribute again."
Kairo stirred his stew without answering.
"You'll be called, won't you?" Rhett pressed. "You always are."
Kairo met his gaze. "Then pray you aren't."
The boy blinked, confused, but said nothing more.
Orders came two days later.
General Aedra herself delivered them. She appeared in the courtyard wrapped in her black cloak, frost catching on her silver hair. "Squad Seven," she said, "to Iron Pass by dawn. Rebellion in the mines. You'll restore order."
Her eyes rested on Kairo a moment longer than on anyone else. "You'll lead the front line."
Garron stepped forward. "With respect, General, perhaps another"
She cut him off. "He needs to remember who he serves."
Kairo saluted. "Yes, General."
The wind swallowed his voice.
They set out before sunrise, the world still blue with night. The path wound north through forests heavy with ice. Snow fell in slow sheets, blurring the trees into white ghosts. Kairo marched at the front, feeling the cold creep through the seams of his armor until it reached bone. Every step matched the thud of his heart, steady, unnatural.
By midday, the blizzard thickened. Garron called a halt, and they huddled beneath a rocky overhang. Fire sputtered weakly against the wind. Someone passed a flask around; laughter rose, forced and thin.
Rhett spoke softly to Kairo. "Do you think the miners really rebelled?"
Kairo watched the snow drift across the fire. "People don't starve because they want to."
Rhett frowned. "But if they disobey"
"Disobedience doesn't start wars," Kairo said. "Hunger does."
The boy didn't ask again.
They reached Iron Pass on the second night. The valley was carved deep into the mountain, the mine entrance a black wound in the snow. A handful of torches burned near the tunnels, and figures moved around them, men, women, even children wrapped in rags.
Garron raised a hand. "Formation."
Kairo's squad spread along the ridge overlooking the camp. From here, the villagers looked small, harmless. The wind carried their voices, pleading, tired, angry.
A messenger rode up behind them, a young officer in polished armor. He handed Garron a scroll sealed with Aedra's mark.
Garron read it, jaw tightening. Then he looked at Kairo. "Orders from High Command. If they don't surrender by dawn, burn the camp."
The words settled like ash.
Kairo's throat felt dry. "There are families down there."
"Command says rebels hide behind families."
"And if they're wrong?"
Garron gave a weary shrug. "Then the snow will cover it."
That night, no one slept. They waited in silence, listening to the wind rattle the tents below. Kairo sat apart from the fire, hands clasped. The Specter Heart beat harder, its rhythm matching the gusts outside. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces in Duskfall, the woman in the alley, the child sleeping against her shoulder.
When the first light touched the ridge, Garron gave the signal.
Torches flared. Soldiers lined up with oil casks ready.
Kairo stood motionless.
"Light them," Garron ordered.
Kairo didn't move.
The soldiers hesitated, looking from him to Garron. The General's seal on the scroll gleamed red in the dawn.
Garron hissed, "Don't make me give the order again."
Kairo's voice came low, even. "If you light those, you're not soldiers anymore."
The boy Rhett's torch trembled. "Sir"
Kairo drew his sword and struck downward. Frost burst from the blade, racing across the ground in a white wave that swallowed the oil casks. The fire went out with a hiss; ice climbed the torches, snuffing them one by one. The temperature dropped so fast that breath turned to shards in the air.
The men stumbled back. Garron shouted, but the wind tore his words away. The villagers below screamed, then fell silent, staring up at the ridge where a lone soldier stood surrounded by snow that shimmered faintly blue.
Kairo lowered his sword. "No more."
Silence held for a heartbeat, then two. Finally, Garron barked, "Retreat. Now!"
They pulled back through the pass, leaving the camp untouched. No one spoke on the march home. The only sound was the crunch of boots and the soft, unnatural hum of frost following Kairo's steps.
By the time they reached the fortress, rumors had already run ahead of them. The ghost froze fire.The wolf turned on his pack.The snow obeyed him.
Aedra summoned him before nightfall. She stood by the window of her chamber, looking out at the storm.
"You disobeyed me!" she said quietly.
Kairo kept his eyes on the floor. "I saved lives."
"You endangered the kingdom. You think mercy makes you righteous? It makes you weak."
He looked up then, and for a moment she faltered. His eyes glowed faintly blue, not with fury but with something deeper and clearer.
"If weakness means remembering they're people," he said, "then I'll keep it."
Aedra's voice hardened. "One more act like that and you'll be executed for treason."
He nodded with his head held high. "Understood."
That night, he couldn't stay. The barracks felt like a tomb, every breath echoing off stone. He packed only what he needed: sword, cloak, a strip of dried meat, and the old insignia that marked him as Norveil's wolf.
Before he left, he knelt by his bunk and carved four words into the wood with the tip of his blade:
Order built on silence.
He paused, then added the rest:
is still chaos.
The wind howled outside as he crossed the courtyard. The gates loomed ahead, iron and frost. The guards didn't stop him; maybe they were afraid, or maybe they understood.
Beyond the wall stretched the white expanse of the frozen plains. No banners, no orders,only the sound of his heartbeat and the endless snow.
He stepped into it, the cold closing around him like breath. Behind him, Norveil's bells rang faintly through the storm. In front of him, nothing but the wind and the long road toward whatever came next.