Winters in Lux were an odd thing, Snow thought. Leaves still surfed along the currents and through the windswept streets, dotting the air like splatters of paint with a significance that could only be appreciated from a great distance. The clouds in the sky were barren and bleak, yet they captured the sun's golden hues, storing it within their mysterious whorls and sharing the beauty for all to see:

The wayward son darting through the markets and into the rat-infested slums, ignoring the demands of his merchant father, who was held back by the bulk of horse-drawn carriages. The ravens gliding past the sizzle of metal in water and the dexterous weaving of history into tapestries spanning the length of a room, flapping their wings to shake away a loose feather or two that swivels to the ground. The horses stepping on those feathers, hauling a cage filled with ten slaves, one of whom stared at the world with wide, innocent eyes. That one slave child listening to the jangle of chains as the wagon bounced over bumps, watching the world play around her in vibrant colors as she remained in drab monochrome, living under the shadow of the mighty castle stretching sky-high towards Caelum.

The burning sky welcomed all of them with open arms, offered the peace of natural grace to help shake away their struggles and replace them with solace.

The Gods watched over Lux. Each winter, Snow relearned how true that was.

This kingdom was nothing like Umbra, the cruel, harsh slaps that left welts on skin or the silent sobs of the frozen dead. No. Lux was the enchanting snowflakes landing softly on the hides stretching across the tall buildings. The sun that shone as an ever-lasting hope despite the despondency thrumming with each blow of a horn.

Everyone heard it echo through Clarica like the cry of a lone tiger cub searching for its family. It reverberated through every column and baluster, parapet and balcony, corridor and hall, stone and line of mortar in the castle, calling the generals and grand scholars to a council.

Feeling the last of its tremors pass, Snow opened her eyes and took in Clarica from behind the window in her chambers. They were running out of time—she and Nickelyn. Snow wrung her hands behind the small of her back, distressed as Nickelyn finished her report.

"So the guards you sent to Lumina have not returned?" Snow asked. When Nickelyn remained silent, Snow bit her lower lip, digging her teeth hard enough to draw blood. "Do you suspect it was General Faelaux?"

"He has been preoccupied with the daily councils." Nickelyn sighed, and Snow could almost hear the shrug that followed it. "All the generals have been. His hands are tied for now. I suspect the Lotus."

"This cannot be the work of Lotus assassins."

"It is either them or the demons."

Snow wrinkled her nose. "Or Faelaux. . . If they remain missing, I need you to travel to Lumina and search for Lord Aegus. We cannot hold much longer without him. I fear the generals and grand scholars have noticed Jungkook's absence if their frequent meetings are a sign." She cupped her chin, her eyes brushing across the now-budding lights of the city. Her lips trembled. "How about Captain or Brigadier General Novire?"

Nickelyn was silent once more before she huffed dismally. "Nothing. They must be having trouble subduing the slaves as much as we are struggling with the Lotus."

Snow shook her head. "It does not make sense."

"Nothing has made sense since. . ." Nickelyn trailed off. They both knew what she referred to, and although they knew they were alone, voicing it was asking for trouble, especially since the walls had ears and eyes no matter where they hid.

Another horn blew. Steeling herself, Snow finally turned around and locked eyes with Nickelyn. "We can do this. The Captain and Elias should not be long." She gently squeezed Nickelyn's arm, more to reassure herself than anything else. All the same, it was her honesty and care. "And I trust you will find Lord Aegus."

They shared a weak smile, letting seconds and minutes die around them until another horn resounded, signaling the end of their short meeting. Nickelyn inclined her head and left while Snow counted how long the horn lasted, every moment down to the last millisecond. It didn't help to calm her fraying nerves or the brush of invisible pieces falling from her hands as much as she hoped it would.

Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, she turned to the window, her face emotionless as she mentally planned emergency measures to protect Lux, when a hand suddenly yanked her around. Jumping, she stilled when she saw Nickelyn, furrowing her brows as she scanned her friend's panic-stricken demeanor.

Nickelyn stood beside Snow with wide eyes, breathing in ragged breaths as her entire body shook. The place their skin touched acted like a conduit, carrying Nickelyn's apprehension from her racing blood to Snow's twitching hands.

"He's here," Nickelyn whispered, almost inaudibly, as if speaking those words were an act of treason to the ears of whoever he was.

And Snow was a fool to not understand at an instant.

"I apologize for intruding," a low voice said.

When Snow glanced at the door, her heart fell to her stomach at the sight of Tiberius Faelaux standing with his shoulders high and his hands clasped at his front. He sketched a respectable bow. "Before I attended the council, I wanted a word with you, Lady Snowalaine. But if Lieutenant Baryos is keeping you busy. . ."

"No. I was just taking my leave," Nickelyn said, her voice stilted, her reddening eyes still wide. They didn't know how much he had heard—if he had even heard anything. She bowed and furtively glanced at Snow before vacating the room with hurried steps.

Faelaux seemed amused. Gesturing at the open door, he raised a brow, and Snow nodded, unsure what grave she was digging for herself. When the door clicked shut, the final blow of the horn boomed around them, traveling through every crevice of the chamber. It felt as if the entire world vibrated with its power.

When the sound faded and left in its wake a terrible tension, Faelaux opted to study the paintings of Umbra adorning Snow's walls. At last, he said, "You have a lovely room, Lady Snowalaine."

"What brings you here, General Faelaux?"

Faelaux chuckled. "Oh, nothing much. I am just fatigued from the constant banter at the round table. Erinhaw and Abel always go head to head, of course. And the Teucer twins go off into their own little world, speaking of inconsequential matters rather than the issues at hand."

Faelaux hummed and cocked his head at a landscape of the Scorching Frosts. With each step around the room, he inched closer to Snow, making his imposing height more noticeable. She discreetly raised her hands to conceal her discomfort, but Faelaux seemed to catch on. An aura of delight radiated off of him, adding to the growing pressure piling on Snow's shoulders. That was when she realized why Tiberius came: to play a game where she was the mouse and he the vigilant tiger.

Even so, she said, "I am still confused as to why you found the need to visit me when you never have before. I think the council should be your first priority, no?"

"A council full of imbeciles who cannot agree on how to solve the issue with the dying royal guards?" Faelaux rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards Snow. Light gleamed on his obsidian hair that curled at the ends of his ponytail, sharpening his amber gaze. "I would rather spend time with someone more like-minded. And I have heard we are very alike."

Snow couldn't help but snort. "Alike? That is quite an amusing claim."

The corners of Faelaux's mouth drooped, not entirely a frown but nevertheless unexpected. Dragging his gaze up Snow's form, he looked like a naive boy, innocent of the horrors the world bestowed on its victims. It bewildered her.

"Amusing?" Disappointment tinted his voice. "Why?"

"We think nothing alike," Snow replied. "To even consider a similarity between us, thus, amuses me."

"Is that so?" Faelaux crept closer until he was barely a step away. "I was hoping you could help me coax the young prince out of his chambers. Though we may not agree on every matter, we both know leaving Prince Jungkook to his tantrum in his tower is a detriment to Lux. Erinhaw believes he can bribe the prince's sentinels, but I am wiser. I know Prince Jungkook trusts you. We can help each other."

Snow bit back a grimace. Emilia was the one turning everyone who knocked on Jungkook's door away. It was reassuring to hear that the plan worked, but learning that General Hyden Erinhaw was actively attempting to see Jungkook made Snow fidget. It wasn't long before he suspected Jungkook's refusal to leave his room as not being present.

"I need a reason to make him leave," Snow said, smiling to add to her performance. She ignored the revulsion crawling up her spine, testimony to the uneasy atmosphere between them. "He doesn't trust me as much as he did before."

The tips of Faelaux's lips rose. He was close, too close. With every breath he took, Snow felt warm air kiss her skin, a tiger breathing down on a lamb. Her crossed arms tensed. Leaning in closer, he whispered, "That is quite a shame. I wanted to invite him to a day of hunting in the woods. Winter is fast approaching, but the boars are always running about. It was Erinhaw's idea, but I still intended to teach the young prince the ecstasy of a good chase."

Sweat formed on Snow's clammy palms, a product of the growing heat between them. When Faelaux brought his hands forward, about to grab her waist and sink his claws to finish his psychological hunt, Snow rested a palm on his chest and shoved him away—hard.

"Enough." She was surprised when her voice came out soft and quiet like Faelaux's. Realizing she was being played like a fiddle, she flared but stopped her wrath from bursting through her mental fortifications. "Your words cannot deceive me. I know you are only trying to find a way to get rid of the prince."

Faelaux's eyes widened. Then, he smirked, and slowly, his face slackened, the mask he donned wearing away like an eroded stone in a river. The subtle glee that had colored his every word and action fully surfaced, daring to abandon the comfort of the river and show itself to the judgment of the setting sun.

"Get rid of the prince? No, no! You misunderstand, my lady. I only mean to mentor him, for what joy is there in maiming a cub?" Startled, Snow went rigid as his fingers wrapped around her wrist. It was expected—all of this was. But what held her back, rooted her to the ground, was the keen understanding that Faelaux could choke her neck and kill her right here and now. And there would be nothing she could do about it. Pulling her chest to chest with him, he grinned against her ear and spoke in a grating growl. "When I strike a fellow tiger, I want it to have the strength to pounce back. A hunt is meaningless without a proper fight."

After he released her and stepped away, Snow clamped down on a gasp. Her heart was pounding as if she had been sprinting, drowning before being given a short reprieve to breathe. Her nails dug blood crescents into her palms. Just like Two, it was as if Faelaux knew how to raise Snow's hackles. But unlike her interactions with the assassin, Snow was too astounded by Faelaux's boldness to speak.

"The prince is more intelligent than you may believe." Her quavering voice made her internally curse. She ground her quivering jaw shut. "He will reject your offer no matter how much you embellish it."

"Pity." Faelaux scoffed and clicked his tongue, though he did not sound discouraged, before staring at Snow again with interest. "Then, if the prince will not show, will you attend, Lady Snowalaine? Erinhaw and I need another person to temper our disagreements. Imagine an intermediary, if you will. Would you not consider it? All you will have to do is follow us around and watch us miss all our shots. It will also be the perfect time to discuss the state of Lux and its affairs. Perhaps even what the generals and grand scholars are planning in the absence of the Novires."

He exchanged a look with her then, one that blew away the oppressive heat Snow felt from her embarrassment and anger with an all too familiar chill. Faelaux knew more than he let on, and that revelation daunted her. After contemplating and weighing her options for a long while, she formed as sweet a smile as she could with her quaking nerves. "I will be honored to accompany you and General Erinhaw."

Faelaux returned her smile, but it was marked with a gratification one may feel after solving a puzzle, after—

No. Unconsciously, Snow shook her head so slightly that the motion was indiscernible. The blood drained from her face.

It was the gratification one felt after finally setting all their pieces in the right place.

"I must take my leave," Faelaux announced, sighing as he waved his hands in irritated circles. "The council calls me, although I am sure all we will do is lament the Captain's absence."

Bowing, he twirled on his heels, but before he could leave, Snow said, "I have one condition."

Faelaux paused, turned. A question glinted in his eyes.

Snow's blood pulsated with terror, mortification, and unbridled outrage. Faelaux had bested her at her own damn game, but she would not allow him to yank her around like a puppet any longer. He was just another typhoon to conquer, and this time, she would win. She had to.

Bringing herself to her full height, she raised her chin and let her lips curl into a menacing grin that neared a smirk. Faelaux, for once, frowned and retreated an inch.

"I do not want to just watch the hunt," she said, laughing unsettlingly. "I want to partake in it."

* * *

The streets of Hiemura were oddly quiet the following morning. Vendors and merchants who would usually be up and about were moping behind schedule, and the few commoners were much the same, lacking their typical joy as they browsed the markets. Flower petals littered the ground, smeared against the cobblestone. So the guards on patrol swept the streets, bickering as they whistled at the prospect of being promoted, something Namjoon thought would never happen as long as they continued slacking.

Namjoon and the others left the castle at dawn and had just entered the main streets of Hiemura. Since they were heading for the Frozen Trail, they rode towards the eastern district, hiding under their hoods and cloaks. Most of their clothes, weapons, and food bounced in their saddlebags, while the remainder were strapped on their person. The sheer bulk of their supplies made them look like outlanders, so it didn't come as a shock when they attracted eyes that quickly found something else to ogle at when Namjoon surveyed the plaza.

This side of the city was developed with exquisite roads dotted with taverns, inns, and luxurious houses made for the affluent. But it didn't take long for the signs of opulence to flatten as they trekked through the less wealthy parts, where the homeless were stretched on the streets, bare skin and bone, begging for coins in their cracked pots and cups.

Namjoon was used to beggars and vagrants basically shackled to their makeshift shelters, but he couldn't stop the voices that fluttered into his mind. He learned of their hunger and strife—felt the horror of being dragged away when the slavers decided that the law was below them. It was all of his strength to ignore his sympathies and power through to the eastern district, where the guards were already lowering the tall, iron gate at the sight of the gray wolf on Jimin's chest.

This was it—the beginning of their journey. Past those gates, there was no turning back. Their fates would be handed to the fickle Gods.

When the tips of the iron gates fully sank into the ground, Two and Jungkook took the lead, and the rest readily followed, speeding their horses to a steady trot. Once the sounds of the rabble subsided with distance and the horses meandered along the beginnings of the Frozen Trail, the thoughts of the homeless faded, as well, far away like a distant memory.

The grasslands were yellowed by the frosts of autumn, and the trail snaked over foothills that progressively grew more rocky and frostbitten, traces of the Scorching Frosts that extended to the surfaces of rivers and the leaves of the pines. They rode forward all day, only stopping for short breaks and meals. By sundown, Namjoon's hips and inner thighs screamed in agony, so when they finally stopped to set up camp, he couldn't help his sigh of relief as he unmounted his mare.

Their surroundings had remained consistent throughout the journey, so Namjoon didn't know how much ground they covered. That didn't seem to concern the others, though, as they picked their roles and established a decent camp in a forest glade. Encompassing it was a thick grove of pines that would shield them from any predator lurking in the night.

Hoseok and Taehyung led the horses to a nearby stream for water while Yoongi masterfully lit a fire with a snap of his fingers. Namjoon raised an impressed brow, but Yoongi scoffed and turned away, wandering to the trees for privacy. When Jin, who went missing a while ago, returned with a dead boar with three arrows protruding from its head, they finally prepared a meal.

Sparks whisked up into the air like excited red strips wriggling with energy as they cooked the boar meat Jin cut. Inhaling a deep breath, Namjoon felt his mouth watering from the sweet taste that permeated his tongue. They ate dinner silently and then slept in silence, the fire dying to glowing charcoal that remained warm enough to fend off the impending cold.

While everyone huddled in their cloaks and drifted into the peaceful realms of their dreams, Namjoon stared at the stars in the open sky. He had read studies about Remian astrology when he was a child and could picture the constellations drawn in the pages of the tomes. It once brought him happiness and peace, a sign of the great times when Aeri was still alive, smiling at him from her window and humoring him when his callow mind thought he had solved all the world's mysteries.

Tilting his head to the side, he expected to see her lying on the grass with her black hair matted and in knots. Imagining her brought a smile to his lips, but her absence killed it before it could take root.

He knew he shouldn't, but he missed her. Before he could dwell on the matter any further, he pushed himself up and distracted himself with the shifting darkness deep within the forest, hoping that time would dull the longing in his chest.

"Can't sleep?"

Turning to the voice, Namjoon saw Two hugging her knees and staring into the embers flickering under the bark of burnt wood. There wasn't much light, and the thin canopy only let in enough moonlight to barely see. Shadows veiled her features, hiding her expressions, but her ruby eyes were bright, glossed behind agencies of wonder.

As an excuse, Namjoon heard himself saying, "First night."

"The others seem just fine," Two said, engrossed in the dying campfire.

Sweeping his eyes over the camp, Namjoon saw the others sleeping, some snoring with open mouths, while others were twisted in awkward positions that were sure to bring cramps in the morning.

"Perhaps I am more sensitive."

Two hummed, noncommittal. "If you are worried about who is keeping watch, there is no need. I will stand guard and wake everyone when dawn approaches. You have my word."

Namjoon held his tongue from saying that wasn't the problem and laid back down, instinctively curling towards the heat. He was aware of Two's eyes staring into the dying embers even as he rolled onto his side and focussed on the forest trees. As he slowed his breathing and heart rate, sleep surprisingly found him, and in his dreams, he ran through crystal oases shining in the vast expanse of desert, holding the hand of his older sister, refusing to let go.

* * *

They traveled through similar terrains, which enthralled Hoseok since he had never experienced what it felt like to travel on land as a resident of the Caeli Isles, but after the millionth hill, he began to long for the harsh whip of the wind. Memories of the skies were nothing but a blur, though, since the clouds were gathering ominously overhead. Probably for rain, he assumed.

His stomach ached, and his hips were sore, proving he wasn't built for land travel. The winds were calling him, swirling in the air, blistering his face with the powerful gales that gusted through the forest trees, shaking the branches and scaring crows that cawed and swarmed the blue skies like a black ocean.

Ahead, Two snapped her head towards the thick underbrush, searching for something Hoseok couldn't see. After a moment, she returned to face forward as if nothing had happened.

Two was an odd one—Hoseok admitted—but he didn't complain since she was the one who spent all night watching the camp. He heard of people who went insane from lack of sleep, and he wasn't about to disparage her sacrifices. Today, perhaps he could take guard. It wasn't like he got quality sleep anyway.

Since winter was fast approaching, there were no merchants on the paths. The land was desolate, singing with the sounds of nature and galloping eight horses. It didn't help that Hoseok couldn't feel his arms and legs, and that problem persisted even when they stopped for a break and started a fire.

When he first arrived in Umbra, he thought the rumors of its cruel winters were a hoax. But oh, how wrong he was. The full brunt of the season hadn't even arrived then. Everything he experienced under a solid roof with good food and a warm bed at the Umbran castle couldn't prepare him for what it was like in the wilderness, vulnerable to nature's whims.

He sneezed and wiped the snot from his nose as his teeth chattered. He was bundled tightly in his woolen cloak, warming himself near the fire along with Taehyung and Jungkook, whose gloved hands were reaching for the flames. Before he could burn himself, Two slapped his hands away.

Hoseok didn't know what relationship she and Jungkook shared, but he was beginning to feel that Two was closer to a caretaker than a guard. While Jungkook bemoaned the weather and asked how Two was seemingly unaffected, Hoseok looked at the other princes.

Jimin, as the Prince of Umbra himself, was understandably fine, his eyes scanning the clouds, and Yoongi was—well—he was a fire elemental. He could control his body temperature at will. That made jealousy coil in the pits of Hoseok's stomach, which only added to the pain of his hunger. All Yoongi used his magic for was lighting a fire that could barely keep anyone warm, much less eight people, but since Hoseok wasn't going to outwardly complain, he mumbled unintelligible curses and inched closer to the flames.

Namjoon was feeding his mare, ignoring the cold because of what Hoseok presumed was pride, while Jin, like Jimin, was staring at the clouds.

"A storm is approaching," Jin said. Two and Jungkook stopped bickering.

Humming in agreement, Jimin grabbed the reins of his horse and nudged his head at the footpaths. "Let's travel a little farther. There is not a safe place here to set up camp."

Without hesitation, Two threw water over the fire, effectively killing the bright flames and heat that was Hoseok's only savior from the monstrous cold. Crying inside, he mounted his horse and followed Jimin's lead, shivering the entire way.

Storm clouds blanketed the sky faster than Hoseok could count, and when precipitation began to fall, he learned that what he had thought was rain was actually snow. It never snowed in the Caeli Isles, so when a snowflake landed on Hoseok's reddening nose, he was hit with a sense of awe until he sneezed the snowflake into oblivion.

"It's snowing!" he shouted, his words slurred thanks to his numb tongue. Shifting the winds with a flick of his wrist, he created an air barrier that shielded them from the snowfall.

After riding a little farther, Jimin turned his horse towards the forest and yelled, "Follow me!"

The soft sprinkle had grown into a blizzard when they reached the forest, so Hoseok's air barrier was worthless. When they chose a spot to set up camp, the icy winds were already picking up speed and spreading snow and hail, so Jimin—rather abruptly—sculpted a dome of ice as a shelter.

The dome was big enough to fit about twenty to thirty men and was twice the height as Hoseok at the center. Tree trunks dotted the circumscribed area, their top halves lost to the outside, and harsh winds flurried beyond two holes carved out on the opposite ends of the dome, large enough to pass under if Hoseok ducked.

Since his clothes were drenched, Hoseok blasted air around himself, spraying melting ice everywhere. Then when he was happily dried and straightening his wild hair, everyone stared at him expectantly, trembling in their wet clothes, so Hoseok dried them, as well.

The floor was soggy with mud and ice, an issue quickly solved when Yoongi burned the surface dry. The horses tied to the trees were on edge, daunted by the storm and howling winds, and everyone was glum as they sat with their frizzy hair and watched Yoongi curse and struggle to kindle a flame. Because they didn't have enough wood, the fire wasn't easy to light, even with Yoongi's expertise.

Already the second day of the journey, and they found themselves trapped in a blizzard. The Gods were truly ruthless.

After Yoongi managed to bring life to the tiniest flame in the history of Kartas, they resorted to eating the stale bread they packed for emergencies. As Hoseok chewed on the same chunk he had been working on for the past couple of minutes, he frowned. He was cold, hungry, afraid, and wanted nothing more than to return home to Laecris. His mouth ached so much that he couldn't even taste the bread, and his body was paralyzed. A vague thought of throwing himself on the fire crossed his mind, and although he knew that would cause more damage than good, the idea never left him.

Burning to death was better than suffering through this intolerable cold.

One by one, the other princes fell asleep near the hearth, and there must have been an unspoken agreement that Hoseok was unaware of because, like the previous night, Two remained awake. His inner gentleman shouted at him to offer to take her place. But his body was too exhausted to even raise a finger. Perhaps after resting a little, he would summon the strength to move, but once he closed his eyes, he never wanted to open them again. And before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

He dreamt of the Holy Towers enclosing the Pacien palace, hymns sung with joy and religious fervor, robes billowing in the breeze with animated squeals, and feet tripping over themselves as a young boy scraped his exposed knee against the limestone sky panel. The day was like any other—strikingly sunny and cheerful, thrumming with jubilation. So the boy held his tears, refusing to destroy the happiness with his selfish pain.

Hoseok was young, far too young. He stood on the edge of the sky panel, his arms splayed out as he breathed in the fresh air and peeked over the ledge at the endless drop beyond. Never in a hundred lifetimes did he imagine falling to his death until he heard an explosion and felt the pressure of a blistering flame push from behind him. His back arched, and the next thing he knew, he was free-falling past the waters of Sperofell and the misty clouds.

He closed his eyes, the wind surging like a loud percussion around him. The water splashing from Sperofell unexpectedly burned his skin like lava, and slowly, the smell of burning wood filled his nose. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the present, staring at the now-raging campfire spewing flying cinders that pinched his skin. As his mind followed him to wakefulness, he shook the dream away along with the tight clench in his chest.

Everyone was sleeping despite the ongoing storm. Hoseok could hear the hail pounding against the ice, sending hollow echoes reverberating through the dome. The once sad excuse of a campfire was now a lively blaze that danced upwards, curving and climbing farther and farther. Bewildered, Hoseok searched for the person responsible for keeping the flame alive when his eyes landed on Two.

She was leaning against a tree trunk, fiddling with a thick tree branch as she stared outside one of the carved exits. Hoseok rose to his feet, fighting his leaden limbs and half-conscious mind, and dragged himself over to where she stood. A small part of him mumbled about how she must have been tired of staying awake all this time, and that reminded him of his idea to offer to stand guard in her place.

Tapping her shoulder, he said, "You must be tired. Do—Bloody bones of Caeluros!"

Before Hoseok could even react, Two grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him up against a tree, the cold bark scraping his skin raw. Leveling him with a chilling, unyielding glare, she blinked, her eyes widening with horror when she recognized him.

"I—I apologize," she stammered, letting him go.

Rubbing his arm, Hoseok laughed through the pain but flinched when he rolled his shoulder. As he gestured towards the snowstorm outside, he awkwardly said, "Enjoying the view?"

Two's face was blank, revealing nothing. "I thought I saw someone moving behind the trees, but that would be impossible because of the weather and the hail and the cold. . ." She chuckled, albeit quite stiffly.

The sound of the hail filled the silence as Hoseok shuffled on his feet. He massaged his shoulder, remembering his purpose of approaching Two, and asked, "Do you want me to take your place while you rest?"

Raising a brow, she frowned. "Rest? From what I can tell, you need more rest than I do."

Hoseok pointed a baffled finger at himself. "Me?"

"You look shaken. Perhaps the unforgiving nature of Umbra is too much compared to the paradise in the Caeli Isles. Go warm yourself by the fire." Picking up her branch, Two flipped it in her hands. "I've been keeping it alive, so it should be warmer than before."

Glancing at the flames, Hoseok said, "You are not wrong about me not being accustomed to the harsher sides of nature, but that doesn't mean you are used to this either. I know you have not slept the previous nights, as well. At this rate, you might drop dead before we even find a rift."

"I would be more concerned about you than me, especially when your hands look like they are about to freeze off."

He sniffed. Moving his hands hurt and made his fingers feel thicker than they actually were. "If my hands are in this state, I can only imagine how yours appear."

Lazily, Two lifted a hand that was red and alive and the complete opposite of Hoseok's, which was turning blue. "I think I am rather comfortable."

Hoseok cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth twitching as he eyed her hand. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm a lightning elemental," Two said as if that solved everything.

Hoseok recalled her fight with the Umbran guards, the lightning crackling around her, and nodded. Yes, she was a lightning elemental. But he was one, too, and he didn't know what Two was doing. When her eyes met him, she smiled, probably reading the quizzical look in his gaze.

"Are you an elemental?"

The sudden change of topic made Hoseok go rigid. "I have a lightning and an air element."

"Then you must have learned how to control your lightning, yes?"

He did. When he was younger, his tutors taught him how to manage stronger currents without hurting himself and showed him the gruesome consequences if he failed. "I can't see how you manipulate lightning to keep warm."

"Then watch."

Outstretching a hand, Two let lightning crackle in her palm. The surrounding air shimmered with vibration and the growing growls of rolling thunder, but Hoseok still couldn't comprehend what she was doing. Her free hand clutched the tree branch as lightning covered her like a cocoon, sparking over her skin. When the last of her magic faded, Hoseok scrunched his brow and pursed his lips.

"I don't understand," he said.

Sighing, Two shook her head. "You princes surprise me every day." Before Hoseok could retort, she flipped the branch and waved it around. "Do you not feel any difference? In the air? In the cold?"

Hoseok looked around, turning a full circle. There was no difference, but before he could tell Two as much, his breath hitched. He could feel it—the heat. The blizzard's unforgiving cold was absent, and in its place was a pleasant warmth that shared its comfort.

"It's warm," he whispered, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You heated the air."

Leaning against a tree, Two nodded. "It's incredible what seasoned elementals can accomplish."

Heat flooded Hoseok's limbs, soothing the frostbitten numbness. "Are all Luxian guards this innovative?"

Her grip around the branch tightened as she slowly spoke as if she were carefully choosing her words. "Those who have not witnessed war and death do not see the merit in innovation, but those who have experienced tragedies firsthand understand its necessity." Gesturing to the camp, she added, "Go rest, Prince Hoseok. I do not need sleep or your aid. Your kindness does not elude me, but it is better served by caring for yourself."

Despite her suggestion, Hoseok stayed and watched the storm's progression, fighting the haze of lethargy that settled as he enjoyed the new warmth. He thought of asking Two to teach him how to heat the air with lightning, but one glance at the frown on her brow swatted the idea away. His drowsiness threatened to pull him into slumber, so to keep himself awake, he asked, "Why do you not sleep?"

When Two's face twisted into a glower, Hoseok opened his mouth to apologize, but rather than express whatever frustration she harbored, she said, "I'll answer if you answer a question of my own."

That offer didn't sit well with Hoseok. It lurched back and forth in his mind as he weighed his options on a scale. Although he was wary of Two's motives, he said, "Ask away."

"Why are you still here?"

Hoseok made a confused noise.

Two clicked her tongue, tapping the end of the branch on the ground. "Why are you still here? As in on this side of the ice dome."

He was cautious, wondering if this was a trick. "I don't like sleeping."

"Why not?"

"That's your second question," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

Two scowled. "The reason you don't like sleeping is the same reason I don't sleep. Now go run along. I don't have the patience to keep you amused."

Humming, Hoseok took one good look at the camp—at the other princes, snoring and huddled in their fur cloaks—and decided to stay with Two for a little longer. When he made no attempt to leave, Two heated the air with her lightning, ignoring Hoseok as he sat and leaned against a tree trunk. Fatigue clouded his mind as he found comfort in the warmth, and when sleep claimed him, he didn't dream at all.

* * *

Jimin was frustrated. By now, they should have arrived at Medeia and met Two's consultant, but since the blizzard continued for a few days, they were still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Everyone was cold and grumpy by the time they vacated the ice shelter, trudged through the new cushion of fluffy snow, and led the horses that whinnied and jumped impatiently, waiting for Jimin to break the dome.

Namjoon suggested not to leave any noticeable evidence of their presence, so the ice dome had to go. The problem was that Jimin didn't make the dome on purpose. It just happened. . . on accident. And he was as shocked as the others when he noticed what he had done.

Jimin stood before the dome, his bare hand on its frozen surface. The dents of scratches from the hail rubbed against his palm, and the frost bit his skin. He didn't know how to break it, and Mother Erna's warning buzzed in his head, bouncing around and nearly giving him a headache.

"What are you waiting for, Jimin?" Namjoon called. "We don't have time to waste!"

Jimin wasn't sure if he could do it. He felt the ice within him freeze and solidify as he tried to find a basis to use his water elemental and imagine the dome as a solid-state of water instead of ice. Closing his eyes, he pulled at the ice similar to how he would water, and before he knew it, the dome cracked and shattered. Startled, he stepped back as it shaved into snow and covered the ground.

Hiding his shock, Jimin mounted his horse. "Let's go."

They rode along the Frozen Trail, which was now swamped in white, courtesy of the snowstorm. The once chilly breeze was blistering cold, even by Jimin's standards, so he pitied the others and wished them the best of Faetuna's fortune as they breached colder areas.

As they rode forward, Two occasionally turned her head to the forest and stared as if she were looking for something. Jimin noticed her behavior and was tempted to ask about it but never got the chance to. So he continued onward, clenching the reins of his horse.

Because night swallowed the snow-covered fields like a menacing beast, they established a camp sooner than Jimin would have preferred. They were still a long way from Medeia. Before, he could conceal his aggravations to a fault, but now, he was pacing and running rough hands through his frosted hair.

When Taehyung offered to help him lead the horses to water, Jimin found a hint of solace. The weather was unforgiving as Jimin led four of the horses, Taehyung the rest. They were quiet throughout their trek, more because of Jimin's brooding than the unwillingness to start a dialogue. When they arrived at a half-frozen stream, Jimin stood back and watched the horses patiently. Soon, Taehyung joined him and made his presence known.

"I understand your frustrations," Taehyung said. "We should have arrived at Medeia by now."

Shaking his head, Jimin grumbled. "The fickle nature of Umbra cannot be thwarted. There is no merit in bemoaning our lost time."

Humming in agreement, Taehyung crossed his arms. His eyes were trained on the horses, but there was a faraway glint behind his manufactured focus. "Do you think it was wise of us to trust the Prince of Lux?"

"Would you have rather returned to Tenebris?"

"Yes," Taehyung answered, not the slightest bit of hesitation behind his words. "I would have rather returned to my family to ensure their well-being, but for me to do that would be selfish. Kartas doesn't need that from one of its leaders." He turned to Jimin, his lilac eyes catching the moonlight. "Would you rather have remained in Umbra?"

Licking his blistered lips, Jimin averted his gaze. "No, anywhere but the castle." He couldn't muster the strength to follow his statement with a reason, so he left it to interpretation.

Taehyung didn't speak after that. The horses siphoned their share of water, flicking fireflies with their tails. Gloom encompassed the thick brushes as gray clouds obscured the moonlight. Before they were blinded, Taehyung snapped, and the darkness thinned.

Without much to say, Jimin thanked Taehyung, who grunted in response. Once the horses were finished, they retraced their steps back to the camp, twigs snapping and the leaves crunching in their wake. The moonlight shone brighter, rays beaming through the fissures of the trees and painting odd shapes over the forest floor. The wind whistled, high-pitched, and the sound sent shivers through Jimin's body, chilling his blood faster than the weather.

They continued like that, wind whistling, trees swaying, sticks snapping when the darkness inched closer like a second skin—Taehyung's work. Jimin felt eyes licking over him when another high-pitched whistle rang in his ears, and finally, he stopped in his tracks.

The horses struggled against the reins, and a few fled the scene in opposite directions, faster than Jimin or Taehyung could react. In haste, Jimin tightened his hold on the final two horses, desperately clinging to their last source of transportation, when hooves kicked his back. He fell helplessly to the ground. A voice shouted, and hands reached for him as he choked on his spit. When he regained his balance, he saw Taehyung beside him, mouthing the words, "Are you injured."

No, not mouthing. Saying. Jimin's ears were buzzing too loudly for him to hear.

"Jimin, are you injured?" Taehyung said, his voice rising as he shook Jimin's shoulder. "Are—"

He stopped short when Jimin patted his hand away and shakily rose to his feet, his back cracking as he stretched it. "The horses," Jimin tried to say, but it came out as a weak mumble.

The relief on Taehyung's face fell. "All gone. I don't know what got into them."

As Jimin supported himself with a hand on a tree, he searched the area. "Can you see anything?"

"I may have a dark element, but that does not give me night vision," Taehyung said, shifting closer to Jimin. "Do you know how far we are from camp?"

Jimin shook his head. "I can only assume a good distance."

Neither of them dared to voice the gravity of their predicament, fearing that saying it would make it worse than it was. That same high-pitched whistle echoed through the canopy. It no longer sounded like the wind. It grated Jimin's ears like the howl of a cracked horn, but that didn't distract him from the sudden movement from above.

An arrow zipped past Jimin, grazing his cheek as it struck the tree beside him, and adrenaline pulsed through his veins so fast that he felt drunk. When another arrow raced towards Taehyung, Jimin immediately drew water from the snow around them and sliced the arrow's shaft in half.

There was no time for Taehyung and Jimin to exchange thoughts. More arrows raced towards them, their pointed tips white against the shadowed background, and Taehyung pushed Jimin to the side, a sick gushing sound resonating as an arrow hit Taehyung's shoulder.

Taehyung molded a sword from the darkness, its blade a polished black from the night, and cut the arrows in midair.

"Run!" he screamed, and Jimin did, blocking with water and ice while Taehyung trailed from behind, manipulating the darkness to his needs.

The arrows were never-ending. Shower after shower would hit, and they would dodge and shield themselves clumsily, barely surviving each downpour. Jimin couldn't spot the enemies nor count how many there were, so for all he knew, there could have been hundreds of them hidden in the canopy, shooting their arrows like they were hunting deer.

In the next rain, Jimin yanked Taehyung behind a tree and shot water spikes up in the air, watching as they charged through stray arrows and disappeared from sight. Panting, Jimin held Taehyung back with a hand over his chest as impact after impact thudded against the tree trunk, the vibrations rolling over their backs. Taehyung squirmed under Jimin's arm, threatening to break free, but Jimin didn't let Taehyung go, concentrating on the shifting above. Finally, he heard someone jump and flung a spike of ice in that direction.

A pained screech screamed through the night as a body fell, landing a few paces before Jimin. Blood melted the snow like thick lava as it bled from a hole in the man's chest. Studying the clothes, Jimin knew who these men were.

"Umbran bandits," he whispered, flicking his wrist to block another arrow. "We were being followed."

Taehyung pressed his back harder against the tree. "Then we have to warn the others."

"That's only possible if we can make it back alive," Jimin said. "Do you think the camp was ambushed, too?"

Clenching his fist, Taehyung called the darkness closer to them. "The others are capable fighters. Let's just focus on our own survival and trust that they can handle their own."

Jimin swung his arms, moving the snow to create a barrier, but the arrows kept coming, relentlessly pounding despite the futility of their efforts.

Why are they only shooting? Jimin wondered, his eyes darting everywhere in case an enemy appeared. The attacks were unending, and just when Jimin thought the barrier wouldn't hold much longer, the forest went silent.

The attacks stopped.

Arrows littered the ground, sticking up at awkward angles, and the barrier Jimin created disintegrated into snow. He shared a curious look with Taehyung before daring to take a step away from the safety of the tree. Nothing happened. No one attacked.

The dead bandit was still on the ground and didn't move as Jimin kneeled beside him, searching the body for clues. In an inner pocket, Jimin found a carving of a rabbit, and on the man's exposed right arm, there was an ugly brand seared onto his skin.

When Taehyung joined Jimin, he asked, "Is that what bandits usually carry?"

"I'm not sure," Jimin said, running his thumb over the dark wood of the rabbit's ears. He surveyed the canopy for more enemies that were bound to be there. "Do you think they ran out of arrows?"

Before a response came, though, the ground began to shake. The arrows covering the floor thrummed with energy as large cracks sprouted beneath Jimin's feet. Jumping away, Jimin fought his exhaustion and extended a hand to create another barrier when something impaled his palm and propelled him to a tree, where he hit his back and coughed blood.

A sharp, metal rod trapped his right hand, and soon, another metal rod shot from the shadows and pierced his left. He was immobilized, his hands pinned to the tree, and when he looked for Taehyung, he saw that the Tenebran prince was caught in a similar predicament.

Jimin fought against his restraints, stifling his sobs as he tugged a hand off the rod. It was too painful. He couldn't move his other one. His body was repulsed by the thought, but still, he powered through and forced himself to tug his hand free.

He didn't hold back his cries as he fell to his knees, trembling as he cradled his hands close to his chest. Tears and blood dripped to the ground, and when Jimin raised his head, he saw a man towering over him.

"Taehyung!" Jimin shouted, desperation lacing his every word. "Taehyung, we need to run!"

Taehyung didn't answer. Cursing, Jimin stumbled to his feet, but suddenly, metal shards dug into his skin and forced him into a fetal position. The man stepped on Jimin's head, shoving it to the ground. With one eye, Jimin glared at the man as more people appeared, landing with varying thumps as they leaped from the trees.

"This is them, right?" the man stepping on Jimin asked.

"Yes," a girl responded, her voice softer and more feminine. "A prince would sell for a hefty price."

"We're not here for that." The pressure of the foot against Jimin's skull lifted. Twirling his pointer finger, the man whistled a familiar high-pitched noise. "Time for the others. Drag these two with us. We don't want to lose them."

Hands hauled Jimin by his shoulders, and as they dragged him away, he saw arrowheads floating around him. Metal, he thought, putting the pieces together and cursing his ignorance.

Unconsciousness prodded at him, and the last thing he saw was Taehyung being pulled off the metal rods that confined him before Jimin breathed in an iron-tang breath and lost consciousness.