Cold Old Love/Guilt....

The fire crackled, burning away the last remnants of a life that no longer mattered. Ezra stood in its glow, the dog fur draped over his shoulders, his breath misting in the frozen air. Across from him, she stood—silent, still, untouched by the heat.

Her hair, her skin, even her lips—everything about her was white. Not pale, not fair, but white, as if winter itself had shaped her. She didn't shiver. She didn't blink. She simply watched the fire consume what was left.

Ezra's voice broke the silence.

"Are you here to feel the warmth too Yue?"

She didn't answer.

He sighed, taking the dog fur from his shoulders and stepping toward her. She didn't move away, didn't react as he wrapped it around her like a shroud. His fingers brushed against her arm—cold, like touching a statue.

Still, she said nothing.

Ezra studied her face. For most, it would be impossible to read, but he had known her once. Not as a goddess, not as a being of ice and silence, but as something else.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

he murmured.

No answer.

No surprise.

But that didn't mean he had forgotten.

Many Years ago....

The wind was sharp, but the sun still shone then, breaking through the branches of a long-dead tree. Astra( Name of the Demon started inside Ezra) stood on its highest branch, balancing on bare feet, grinning like an idiot. Below, she watched him with folded arms.

"You're going to fall."

"No, I won't."

"Then I hope you land on your head."

He laughed. "And if I do?"

She shrugged. "Then I'll take your boots. They're warmer than mine."

"Thief."

"Idiot."

She had been different then. Her laughter had been sharp, her words quick, her eyes alive.

They had stolen bread together. Thrown rocks at soldiers when they thought no one was looking. Dreamed of running away to the southern lands, where the cold didn't reach.

They had promised things. Stupid things. Things children say when they don't know better.

"No matter what happens, we stick together."

"Obviously."

"Even if the world ends?"

"Astra, shut up and climb down before you break your neck."

Now...

Ezra cringed his face distorted remembering those things.

Ezra searched her face for something—anything that reminded him of the girl she used to be.

Nothing.

Only the fire reflected in her empty eyes.

He let out a breath, stepping back.

Still no response.

He turned, ready to leave.

Then, just before he stepped into the darkness, she spoke.

"The cold doesn't feel the same anymore."

Ezra stopped. Looked back.

Her gaze was still on the fire, her voice distant, as if she wasn't speaking to him at all.

He thought about saying something—something sharp, something meaningful—but in the end, he just nodded.

"Yeah. It doesn't."

Then he walked away, leaving only footprints in the snow.

As she followed him both not questioning each other.

Then he walked away, leaving only footprints in the snow.

As she followed him, neither questioned the other. The distance between them remained, yet there was something more. The air was different, charged with unspoken things.

Then, as she grabbed his hand, warmth surged through him—like sunlight pouring through dark clouds. It was a foreign feeling, a sensation he had not known for centuries. His body stiffened, unsure of how to react to such an intrusion of warmth.

""What is this?" Ezra rasped, his voice sharp and distorted by the confusion within him.

His face contorted, the features of the demon twisting in ways that no longer felt like his own. The warmth was unbearable. His heart, long frozen, twisted and clenched.

The demon within him had no frame of reference for this.

The human part of him, the part that had died so long ago, felt something he couldn't name. Love? Regret? Was it that? Was it even possible to feel such things after what had happened? After everything that had been lost?

They had been close once. More than a thousand years ago. Before the world had grown cold, before betrayal had shattered everything.

He remembered a time when they were nothing but two foolish souls, full of life, full of dreams. Back then, he had loved her. She had been his everything—his best friend, his companion, his promise.

But then, the world had turned on them. The betrayal had come like a storm, ripping their bond apart.

When their village was attacked by demons.

She had left him as a bait to survive, ran away with her lover, abandoning him to die alone.

And die he did.

But death wasn't the end for him. No, not for Astra. A group of demons had found his broken body, and from the ashes of his humanity, it had risen him again. It had torn away his past, leaving only the brutal hunger for power and survival in its place.

Meanwhile, The girl he had loved—had faced her own torment. After Astra's death, she had been betrayed too, left to the whims of others. She had been sold to a slave trader, her beauty almost claimed by a brothel. But fate had not been so kind.

Instead, someone from a powerful religious sect had found her, had taken her in, and given her a new life. A life where she was revered, a Saintess with godly power and a title to match.

But the power had not healed her. It had not given her peace.

Ezra knew this—he felt it in the way she looked at him now, as if every moment in the past was pressing in on her, suffocating her, suffusing her with guilt. The guilt of betrayal, the guilt of survival.

"If he survived, he probably is married now," she had thought once during her time as a slave.

That thought, that flicker of something... it stung her, pulling her back to that time, that place, where they were still human.

But nothing was the same anymore.

They had fought. Oh, how they had fought. On a battlefield, a place where enemies became nothing more than bodies to be discarded, where friends turned to foes in the blink of an eye. It had been a brutal war, one that had torn them apart even further. Astra alone had faced thousands of his enemies, and among them, had been Yue.

Astra had thought that he would kill her then, that it would be the final end to the twisted game they had been playing.

But no—this battle had been different. It had been the end of everything. The war had ended with his soul being sealed, bound and locked away, forever.

And yet, despite all of this, here they were again—together, walking side by side, as if nothing had ever happened.

Yue's hand, still gripping his, was warm. It felt real.

He hated it. He despised it.

And , he tried to pull away his hands.

She flinched, but her grip remained firm, as if she was still holding on to something buried beneath the icy surface of his soul.

Finally, he turned to face her, the demon inside him raging against the foreign emotions that clawed at the edges of his mind. His eyes, dark and distant, met hers. There was nothing in his gaze but coldness, the coldness that had become his nature.

"I'm not the person you remember," he said, his voice low, guttural.

The words were almost painful to speak, but they were true. He wasn't that man anymore. He was something else. Something far darker, far more dangerous.

But Yue didn't recoil. She didn't pull away. Instead, she just stared at him with that same, familiar sadness in her eyes, a sadness that he knew all too well.

She didn't speak, didn't say a word. She simply stayed close, her hand still warm against his.

"Neither am I," she whispered softly.

And in that moment, amidst the swirling winds and the falling snow, neither of them knew what came next.

They were broken, bound by the past, and yet still—still they walked forward, together in their shared silence.

Finally, Ezra spoke, his voice as cold as the winds that howled through the night.

"If you're looking for redemption, Yue, you won't find it in me."

She didn't answer. She didn't need to. respond.

Ezra was on the verge of killing her as he was acting all along. He knew God's were immortal and can't be killed easily, so he refrained.