Starless Nights

Vael and Kiera were stationed at the front, side by side.

Lucia and Kael flanked them, forming the outer edge.

The others spread into an oval formation, keeping a full 360-degree watch.

Ash stayed in the center — the safest place.

And at the very back, tall and silent, walked Drako. Watching everything.

As the day dragged on, Vael noticed Ash was starting to lag behind.

Not surprising. She was underfed — and maybe worse.

So every time they stopped to rest, he'd give her some of his food.

She never asked. Never thanked him. Just accepted it with a nod.

They moved steadily, their pace never dropping too much.

But that changed quickly.

The cold had grown stronger throughout the climb, but it was so gradual they didn't notice.

Not until now.

Vael didn't have a thermometer, but if he had to guess, it was around minus ten Celsius.

Which wasn't that bad…

Unless you were heavily underdressed.

Which they all were.

Apparently, the captain believed in "not putting all his eggs in one basket."

The eggs being the few warm clothes the rebels actually owned.

The basket being them.

Morale plummeted.

No one spoke. There was nothing to say.

When they finally stopped for the night, gathered in a semi-circle around a weak campfire, Ash quietly pointed out that Jacob — one of the rebels — had a ruptured boot.

Lucia nodded silently and went to help.

And that was the end of their first real day in this frozen hell.

Tomorrow, new challenges would come.

And they'd be ready.

Or they'd freeze trying.

Morning rushed in like a sexually frustrated bull on steroids.

The camp, while well-positioned to block the wind, did little to stop the cold from settling into their bones long before they even woke.

Breakfast was unceremonious — dried meat and what might've once been a potato, now just a shriveled, tasteless husk of its former self.

They set off right after eating, maintaining the same formation as the day before.

To say it was cold would've been an understatement.

And the worst part? It wasn't the temperature, the food, or even the uphill march.

It was the knowledge that this was only the beginning. They'd barely made a dent in their journey. The air was still thin, but not thin enough. The altitude wasn't punishing — yet. But the exhaustion? That was already here.

As the sun dragged itself across the sky, ice began to appear. At first, it was manageable. But soon, it became a cruel obstacle.

The unawakened slipped constantly. One of them — a tall boy with too much pride — slammed down hard on his shoulder and didn't get up for a good minute.

Ash fell too. She tore her coat on a jagged chunk of ice, blood staining the fabric. But she didn't cry out. Just flinched. Then silently sat down and patched it up with practiced hands.

Lucia saw the whole thing and made a mental note: if something needed stitching, she'd ask the kid first.