The sun finally sank below the horizon, taking the last biting gusts with it as the sky cleared into a sharp, star-littered black. Though the wind ceased its relentless scatter of snow across the valley, an uncompromising, stillness-heavy cold settled over the camp, freezing the air where it stood. At the center of the thirty-tent enclosure where the three hundred Paayasian prisoners and sixty-two children were secured, small open campfires crackled into the quiet night. The crisp aroma of fish grilling over glowing embers drifted through the frosty air—a rare flicker of warmth against the bitter freeze.
Around the flames, the low chattering of the captives echoed quietly.
"I thought we were done for back there on the river," one prisoner murmured, rubbing his chapped hands over the fire.
"Me too," another replied, carefully turning a fish over on a wooden skewer. "I didn't think the Magoli would let us keep the fish we caught today. I was sure they'd strip it all away from us."
"Listen to me, men."
Yongyee's voice cut through the camp, instantly bringing every conversation to a dead silence.
Standing near the main fire, his broad silhouette framed by the embers, the veteran commander looked around at the weathered faces of his surviving troops.
"I know that each and every one of you carries your own pride and your own opinion," Yongyee said quietly, his voice echoing in the still night air. "I will not stop you, nor will I force you to accept my path. Right now, at this very moment, I speak to you as a fellow Paayasian—not as your commander. I have seen with my own eyes the difference between a great nation and a dying one. This siege has opened my eyes, and I finally understand what it truly means to lay down my life."
He glanced down at Nou and Mong huddled together under Möndör's heavy cloak, then raised his head high.
"Though we lost a city, we have also gained clarity," Yongyee continued, his eyes burning with fierce conviction. "From this moment onward, I will only lay down my life to protect the people I love. I will lay down my life to safeguard the future of our children. I will lay down my life so that no matter what name we give to God, we may live with dignity, respect, and equal standing, where our sons and daughters can choose their own future. Therefore... I refuse to die for a king who abandons his soldiers and his people. I am willing to serve under Hmagol Eastern General's banner."
He looked at his men, his expression open and resolute. "If you choose differently, you do not have to follow me."
A brief silence fell over the camp, save for the popping of firewood.
Then, a veteran soldier stood up. "I will stand by you, Captain."
"Cousin," Tue said softly, stepping forward to rest a heavy hand on Yongyee's shoulder. "I have followed you for over twenty years. I am not about to stop now."
One by one, soldier after soldier stood up around the crackling campfires. Each man spoke his mind, pledging their loyalty not to a distant, cowardly king, but to the captain who had bled alongside them and brought their children home from the mist.
A short distance from the captive camp, Siqi walked slowly through the frost toward his assigned sleeping quarters, only to see a soldier stepping out carrying an empty tray of used bowls. The sharp, bitter scent of herbal medicine struck Siqi's nose immediately—a smell he knew all too well from his elder sister Yingzi's medicine room.
"Wait there, soldier," Khair said politely, stepping up beside Siqi.
The young medic student paused, bowing his head gently. "Siqi."
"Who is inside?" Khair asked.
"Captain Möndör," the medic replied.
"He hasn't left yet?" Khair asked, visibly surprised, knowing that Möndör's unit had already ridden back toward Ngabo.
"No," the medic said, shaking his head. "Captain Möndör pulled someone from the river earlier. Due to his condition, the head doctor advised him to stay the night. If he improves by morning, he can travel." He glanced between Siqi and Khair. "I have to deliver medicine to the children's enclosure now. Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you," Khair said softly.
The medic student nodded and hurried off into the cold dusk.
Khair studied Siqi's face closely. Knowing their history, worry gnawed at her. Möndör was notorious for mocking Siqi, and the two had shared a fierce rivalry for years. There was an unspoken bitterness Siqi carried—a lingering sting from losing the captain's post to Möndör, a decision even Siqi's own father had endorsed. Fearing the tension might boil over into a fight tonight, Khair turned to Siqi, her eyes full of concern.
"Siqi... are you going to be alright sharing a tent with Möndör?" she asked softly.
Siqi let out a heavy sigh, his breath clouding in the freezing air. "Go back and get some rest. Our patrol shift starts at one," he said, his tone quiet and measured. "If he leaves me alone, I'll leave him alone. Besides, the tent is large enough for both of us as long as neither of us crosses the line."
Without another word, Siqi turned and walked toward the heavy canvas entrance.
Khair watched his tall shadow disappear into the gloom, a worried sigh escaping her lips.
"Khair," Nachin called out, coming to a halt in front of her. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? Our shift starts in a few hours."
"Nachin," Khair said, her voice dropping. "Keep an eye on Siqi's tent tonight."
"Why?" Nachin asked, confused.
"Möndör is still here," she said, her heart heavy with unease.
Nachin's eyes widened. "No shit," he whispered, taking three quick steps closer. "In the same tent?"
Khair rolled her eyes at Nachin, shaking her head. "It's the only tent reserved for the lead unit commanders." She gave his shoulder a gentle, warning pat before turning away into the dark. "Just keep your ears open."
The heavy canvas flap lifted, and Siqi stepped into the cozy warmth of the tent. A small fire crackled in the center pit, its thin trail of smoke drifting up toward the top opening and out into the freezing night. Turning to the right, Siqi spotted Möndör sprawled across the bedding, a wooden bowl of dark, freshly brewed medicine resting untouched beside him.
Siqi quietly unbuckled his heavy armor, his gaze drifting back to his rival. Möndör's eyes remained closed, and the wisps of steam above the bowl had vanished as the liquid cooled. Siqi knew Möndör better than most—for all his terrifying skill on the battlefield, the giant young warrior harbored an absolute disgust for two things: bitter medicine and tears.
Looking down at Möndör's exposed chest, Siqi's eyes settled on the thick, jagged scar left by the arrow wound. Stepping over to the foot of the bedroll, Siqi nudged Möndör's boot with his toe.
Möndör's heavy, exhausted eyes fluttered open, meeting Siqi's cold, unblinking glare.
"What?" Möndör rasped, his voice rough as he cleared his throat with a harsh cough.
Siqi rolled his eyes, glancing down at the dark bowl and then back to Möndör. "The medicine won't kill you," Siqi said smoothly, a faint, mocking smirk playing on his lips. "Though the cold just might. A fearsome young captain who slaughters without blinking... rendered completely helpless by a bowl of herbal tea smaller than a single drop of his enemy's blood."
Before Siqi could finish the thought, Möndör's leg shot out, sweeping Siqi's ankles out from under him.
Losing his balance, Siqi tumbled forward, landing squarely against Möndör's bare chest. Seizing the moment, Möndör's thick arms clamped tightly around Siqi's waist, pulling him flush against his body.
A broad, playful smirk spread across Möndör's face as he ran his fingers through Siqi's long, dark hair.
"I was just waiting for my wife to feed me my medicine," Möndör murmured softly, burying his face into the warm crook of Siqi's neck. He pressed a gentle kiss against his skin, his breath tickling Siqi's ear as he whispered, "Did you miss your husband, darling? Because I missed you terribly."
"Don't joke around," Siqi muttered, pushing himself up off Möndör's broad chest. Sitting upright, he picked up the bowl of medicine and held it out to him. "Finish drinking this and go to sleep."
"Yes, wife," Möndör murmured, a soft, almost clinging smile tugging at his lips. He took the bowl and downed the bitter dark brew in a single gulp, instantly screwing his face up in disgust. "God, I hate that taste."
Siqi took the empty bowl and set it aside. "Then next time, don't be in such a hurry to play the hero," he teased softly.
Möndör sighed, leaning back against the bedroll with his hands resting behind his head. "Anyone in that situation would have done the same," he said softly. He looked at Siqi's back, reaching out to gently stroke the long strands of dark hair spilling over his shoulders. "You would have done the same, sweetheart." Smiling, he reached out and pulled Siqi back into his arms. "Now, come here and give your husband some warmth."
He wrapped his arms around Siqi, pressing a tender kiss against his temple. "Chinua is going to send me south to Noncho."
"Gathering supplies?" Siqi asked, his eyes tracking the flames dancing in the small firepit.
"Yes—and locating the fastest route to Tailin," Möndör admitted quietly. He buried his face in the crook of Siqi's neck like a lost pup clinging to its owner. "I'm going to be gone for a long time. Three months, to be exact."
"So?" Siqi replied, his tone remaining unbothered.
"So, it's going to be a long time before we see each other again," Möndör murmured in a low, seductive tone, trailing soft kisses along the side of Siqi's neck.
"So?" Siqi repeated, turning his head to give him a deadpan look.
"So..." Möndör smirked, his hand venturing down toward Siqi's waist, "...help your husband release some stress before he leaves."
"Möndör," Siqi warned quickly, his breath hitching. "There are people right outside."
"Then don't be too loud," Möndör whispered with a wicked grin. Reaching down, he snagged the heavy fur blanket and pulled it over them both, swallowing them in dark, quiet warmth.