I grip my sword tight, my breathing coming out in puffs of white as frost settles on my cheeks. Feet numb, I stumble through the battlefield, ducking clumsily under a mace, then twisting just out of the way of a sickle. When a soldier charges at me, I clash our swords, finding purchase on the snowy ground with spiked shoes as I push back. My eyes dart helplessly from side to side, and I quickly lunge to the right, dropping my shoulder to avoid the momentum of the enemy’s blade. I pivot on that foot, slice the soldier in half, then reverse my grip to stab an incoming soldier behind me.

Pulling my blade out, I continue to weave through the battlefield. The snow makes my footsteps sloppy and the cold makes my movements stiff. However, I still manage to fight off each enemy.

When I reach a clearing- well, a small space that isn’t occupied by fighters- I pant for breath slightly, rubbing my hands together, trying to keep them warm.

Then, there’s cold against my neck. But it’s not ice, or water, or the wind, it’s a blade. I don’t turn, in fear that the person behind would slit my throat from any slight movement.

“Who are you?” I speak, my voice wavering slightly.

The figure steps closer and I feel their body heat behind me. It could be comforting if there wasn’t a sharp edge against my throat. I swallow against the blade.

“Don’t recognise me?” A gruff voice mutters in my ear, “You wound me, Nyx.”

I tense up and the blade is forgotten. I don’t turn. I don’t want to see his face. Caius’ face.

“Got what you wanted in the end?” I manage to say through gritted teeth. My nails dig into my palms and I lift my chin, hoping to appear somewhat confident.

“No, you’re still here, aren’t you?”

I turn at that, not caring about the blade. Caius is just as neat as usual. Glistening black hair, piercing blue eyes, smooth tanned skin and that damn smirk that makes me hate him even more. Such beauty is wasted in a human being.

“What, was my sister not enough?” I snap back, the sounds of war around us now feeling muted, fading into the background, “You act as if she was a mere inconvenience.”

He seems to consider what I said for a moment, grunting in acknowledgment, then responds with that sickening calmness, “She was smart, yes, a worthy adversary. But, her wits were no match to my blade.”

“You arrogant, son of a—“ I’m about to leap for him when I feel Caius’ blade dig into the nape of my neck. Warm blood trickles down my neck and down my back. I stiffen. Its not deep enough to be severe, just a warning, a reminder of who’s in charge.

“Don’t forget your place, Nyx.” He purrs, leaning down slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his lips curling into a grin, “You’re shivering, darling. Fear?”

“We’re in a gods-foresaken snow desert.” I spit, glaring up at him, “‘Course I’m shivering,”

“Uh-huh. Well, any last words?” He straightens again, switching the dagger’s position to be pressed against the crook of my neck.

Ah, so not a quick or painless death. He’ll cut the artery and let me bleed out.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Don’t you have something heroic to say?”

“No, if I die, i want everyone to know that you’re a mad coward.” I say, then put my hands up, sitting down on the snow, crossing my legs and closing my eyes.

There’s a pause, “You’re just… accepting it?” Caius does a crap job of hiding his surprise.

“Sure. I’d rather die in peace than die in struggle.” The calmness in my voice is all fake, but I’m impressed at how steady it sounds now, despite my chattering teeth.

“You don’t even want to prolong the rest of your life?”

“And delay the imminent? No.” A beat. I add, quieter, “I’ll join my sister.”

“You don’t truly want this, do you?” Caius speaks incredulously, still looking down at me. His attractive features are screwed up in confusion.

No, of course not. “What else do I do?” I open my eyes and meet his gaze. It is him who looks away, his glare faltering.

“Most beg, fight, bargain.” Caius says, quieter now.

“Those people still die in the end.”

“Everyone dies in the end.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Exactly my point. Why not add to the rest of the blood on your hands?”

Then, the blade slips from his hand and falls to the snow. Caius doesn’t make a move to pick it up. I simply watch.

“You’re a strange one, Nyx.”

I finally stand, tall, regal, ready. Then I turn and run back into battle, leaving Caius alone with his thoughts and the yells of war.