The Snowfields South of Pyrehold
They didn't speak for hours.
Not because there wasn't anything to say — but because the snow listened. Because silence was safer. Because even freedom had a scent the Empire could follow.
Kaelith slithered quietly ahead of them, his white scales blending into the frost, leaving behind no trail. A spirit guardian born of Lara's soul, he was now more shield than shadow — and though he could pass as mist in still air, he was undeniable in motion. Towering. Protective. Calm.
Lara's breath came in short bursts, fogging the air. Her strength was returning, but her steps were still uncertain.
Toy kept her steady with a hand on her back.
They stopped near a frozen ravine at dusk.
It was a quiet place. The kind where the wind whispered but didn't watch. A perfect hiding spot — for now.
Toy helped Lara down onto a fallen log.
Kaelith coiled behind her like a wall, lowering his head and resting his horns against the snow.
"We need shelter," Toy said, scanning the area.
"There's an old settlement west of here," Lara said, voice hoarse. "Abandoned. Probably still standing. I used to know a girl there."
"A girl?"
Lara nodded. "A witch. Like me. Before I became the Witch."
Toy crouched beside her, rubbing his cursed hand. It was reacting — faintly. Not in pain. But like a compass tugged toward something unknown.
"Do you think she'd help us?" he asked.
"She might," Lara said. "If she's alive. And if she doesn't hate me."
Toy raised an eyebrow.
"I wasn't always the kindest," Lara admitted. "Before Pyrehold, I thought I had to be sharp to survive. I didn't know there was a difference between power and cruelty."
"You know now," Toy said.
She looked at him, tired and cold and beautiful beneath a sky full of fading light.
"I only know because you didn't run from me."
He smiled faintly. "I was cursed long before I met you. It gave me eyes for broken things."
Kaelith made a low noise — not quite a hiss, more like a sigh. Even the serpent could sense the ache in the moment.
Then Lara's expression changed. "We need a real plan, Toy."
"We'll head west, find this village," Toy said. "If there's no one there, we keep going. North, maybe. Or to the fractured lands — the Empire's reach is weaker there."
"Everywhere we go, we'll be hunted."
"I know."
She reached out and took his cursed hand. It pulsed again, warmly this time.
"We'll need allies," she said.
Toy looked into her eyes. "You're starting to sound like a rebellion."
"I don't want a rebellion," she said. "I just want to live. I want to feel the wind without bars. I want Kaelith to rest. And I want… you."
Her voice trembled slightly, just enough for Toy to know the truth of it.
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Then we'll run, Lara. We'll run until running becomes standing. And then we'll stand."
That night, they found shelter beneath a rocky overhang. Toy built a small fire using shards of dry bark he'd carried from Pyrehold. The flames were weak, but Lara warmed her hands anyway.
Kaelith curled around the entrance, his glowing eyes flickering at every gust of wind.
Toy sat across from her, finally breaking the quiet.
"What happened to your friend?" he asked.
Lara looked at the fire, not him. "She loved someone. A village boy. The Empire found out and branded her a threat. Not because she hurt anyone — but because she might, if she ever lost him."
"And?"
"She did lose him. He died during a raid. She never hurt anyone afterward. She just… stopped speaking."
Toy's heart ached.
"I wonder," Lara whispered, "if I ever scared her more than the Empire did."
"You were hurting," Toy said. "They made you into a weapon."
"I let them," she said.
"No," he replied firmly. "They took a girl who loved, and they carved the Witch out of her. But you're still here."
She nodded, slow and heavy.
"Then let's find the girl again," she said. "Before the Empire finds the Witch."