When the Snow Let Go

The wind howled behind them as they walked.

Snow crunched underfoot, but no one spoke. Their steps were slow, not hesitant, but heavy. Exhaustion clung to every limb, yet not one of them faltered.

Asmodeus walked at the front, carrying the limp body of the former demon empress who looked eerily like Riel. His hands rested under her knees and armpit. Blood — not his — stained the edges of his cloak.

Behind him, Vinea moved with her sword strapped across her back, her breathing steady but strained. Asmodea limped slightly, but her posture stayed proud, chin lifted, crimson hair swept back, and Lumina carried Levia on her back as she recovered.

They were headed for the citadel — after the snow and ice started to collapse, only black walls loomed with something dark and timeless waiting for them.