When she opened her eyes, she was laying in a cart, covered in furs. The cart bounced and jostled her, and she could hear the cart owner cursing at the beasts to move faster.

“What?” She asked groggily, and tried to sit up.

“What’s going on?” She called, and the cart driver twisted in his seat. “Oh, you’re finally awake.” the man stated sourly, and then faced front and cursed at the horses again. “We lost, mi’lady.”

“Lost?” She said, as if she didn’t know the word. “What do you mean?”

“The entire band was wiped out to a man. None survived. We barely had enough time to pack up what we could and get the hell out.”

“My sister? The Lord Captain? Lord Commander Daveth? Jonan? Audra?” She asked, forgetting in her haste that Jonan and Audra were dead.

The man shook his head. “All dead, mi’lady. They were slaughtered, each and every one.”

“Please stop the cart. I want to go back.”

“Go back? Your brain must be addled. We can’t go back.”

“I didn’t say you. I said stop the cart long enough for me to get off, and I will go back.” She replied evenly.

“...Fine. make it quick.” He muttered. She nodded, and grabbed her sword and cloak, and climbed off the wagon.

“Wait, mi’lady.” He called. “It’s ... a seven day trip by cart. You’ll need food, supplies.” He shrugged helplessly. “Take one of the remounts.” He pointed, and tied to the rear of the cart were several horses. He gave her a pack filled with foodstuffs and a couple of bedrolls. He kept stuffing things into her saddlebags.

“I really appreciate your kindness, my good man.” She said, and he nodded.

“I shouldn’t have been short with you, mi’lady.”

She turned her horse around and began riding north.

She found the battlefield by scent, as the constant snowfall covered everything. The cart driver was correct; everyone had died, they had been wiped out to a man.

She found her sister bisected at the waist; she wept bitterly over Alysia’s corpse. She found her Lord Captain’s headless corpse a few hours later.

There was no way to bury them there; she wrapped their corpses in furs and rode south.

*****

All around him, in every direction was endless, whirling snow, a blizzard, the apotheosis of all blizzards. He stumbled through knee-deep drifts, snowblind, barely conscious, struggling through the blizzard step by sluggish step through sheer dogged willpower alone. His mind was as blank as the endless fields of whirling white. He had no idea where he was; which direction he was heading, but it didn’t matter: He was alone.

His arm was numb, numbed beyond all sensation. He’d snapped off the arrows lodged in his shoulder and chest, could feel the arrowheads themselves grating against the bone, tearing his flesh in only the most distant, visceral way.

He was alone in the endless blizzards, blind, frozen blood crusted to his clothes, tears frozen to his face.