Each time his eyes closed, pictures of Aksel's lifeless body flooded his head.

  People were dying here, everything was going so fast, would he eventually end up like him, another body on the snow?

  He couldn't remember what he had done to deserve to be here, but he was starting to hate his past self for it past mistakes.

  The falling snows had turned into a tempest. Trees were struggling to stabd still with the wind, and everything was slowly getting swallowed by the growing coat of white.

  Thanks for that bear Fur that was envelopping him, Alec wasn't feeling that cold

  The snow was crunching under each of his steps.

  It's layers getting denser, to the point where it was starting to be difficult to keep on walking forward.

  Thoughts were swirling trought Alec's mind, how could he have stabbed the man when he distinctly remembered dropping the knife before?

  And most importantly, why hadn't he felt anything for the life he had taken.

  It was self-defense, of course.

  But he wasn't feeling an ounce of guilt or remorse. His hands weren't shaking, the face of the man wasn't invading his mind.

  What kind of man would take a life that easily? Maybe he was supposed to be here.

  Maybe he was a monster that should have been put down.

  But, the only way was forward. torturing himself with things he couldn't control wouldn't help him to survive.

  He would figure who he was. Only after getting out of this hell.

  With no knowledge of the place, apart Ulf's drawings and the direction he has saw the two teenagers take, he went back on his steps all the way to the camp where he had been attacked.

  Aksel was still there, the snow was slowly swallowing him. Alec couldn't look at him, he felt nauseous at any glance.

  He took the bear fur off and covered Aksel with it. He couldn't give him a proper burial but he couldn't leave him there either.

  He then followed the durection he had saw them take.

  And as he searched quickly enough he found a pack of steps in the snow that he had decided to follow, hoping it would lead him to something better than what he had faced.

  But with the now growing snow, it was getting harder and harder to follow the traces.

  He tried to speed up, but his body quickly reminded him that even though he could walk right and wasn't feeling much pain, he was still pretty hurt. One wrong move and he would laying in a pool of his own blood.

  The snow grew heavier, clinging to his clothes and weighing down each step. And just when Alec thought that he might be lost forever, the trees began to thin, and through the swirling white, Alec caught the faint glow of firelight. His pulse quickened—somewhere ahead, there was movement. He pressed closer, keeping low, and found himself at the edge of a clearing. Hidden behind the last line of trees, Alec froze, scanning what layed before him.

  Through the thinning branches, he could see a clearing carved into the snow. A circle of rough wooden huts surrounded a massive fire that roared in the center, throwing flickering orange light across the camp. Guards patrolled the perimeter, armor clinking with every step, axes and swords in hand, eyes sharp and scanning for any movement.

  Tall banners swayed on poles, each marked with strange runes in perfect circles, glowing faintly in the firelight. Around the fire, warriors shouted, weapons clashed. He wasn't sure but it looked they were fighting.

  Alec took a breath, getting there had nothing less than a miracle. But what to do next was an other issue. This wasn't a game, they were no retry. The wrong strategy meant death.

  At his hips the knife and the axe he had stole from the giant from earlier felt pitiful next to all of that, no way to take the camp upfront.

  And even if he managed to get to the camp, he knew he had to capture a flag but which one? They had to be at least twenty there.

  But what sounded like groanings pulled him out of his toughts.

  A few meters from him,, a train of shackled teens were forces to walk by three warriors.

  Alec's heart skipped a heartbeat, he could have been caught.

  They were exhausted, it was clear from the way they walked, both the teens aswell as the soldiers. And they stopped right before the last line of trees.

  Should he run? Would he go far tired and with that much snow? So many toughts crossed his mind.

  The guards were stretching and yawning, muttering to each other in a language Alec couldn’t understand. One of them said something that made the other two laugh. Then, without warning, those two jogged off toward the camp, leaving the three prisoners and a single guard behind.

  The remaining guard, after another long yawn, stepped away from the prisoners to relieve himself against a tree.

  Alec’s hand clenched around the hilt of his knife. One man was manageable, he thought.

  He crouched lower, keeping his eyes locked on the lone guard, heart hammering, ragged breaths slicing through the cold. Slowly, he began to inch closer to the prisoners.

  But as he crept closer, something slammed into him- so hard it felt like his world cracked

  Was he really about to do it again?

  Take another life, just like that? No hesitation, no second thoughts?

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The knife in his hand suddenly felt heavier, wrong. The guard wasn’t looking, the moment was perfect…but the boy couldn’t move. He wasn't a monster.

  Then another thought flickered through him like a bolt.

  He didn’t need to kill the guard.

  He just needed to get to the camp. His eyes quickly darted the place, looking for a play. And this time the lightbulb did lit up.

  His eyes on the prisoners. Shackles. Chains. A straight path into the camp.

  It was reckless, stupid even. But it could work.

  The guard was still pissing against the tree, humming to himself, while the prisoners stood slumped, half-dead on their feet, barely aware of the world.

  Alec slid the knife back into his belt, crouched slightly, and moved closer to the line of prisoners.

  Without a sound, he grabbed one of the loose shackles at the end and held it up.

  A whistle escaped his lips before he could second-guess himself.

  The guard turned, eyes narrowing, unsheathed his sword in a second. Alec froze for a heartbeat, but with a twist, he locked the shackles on his own hands.

  The guard stared surely in disbelief, then laughter burst from him—raw, loud, incredulous.

  Alec would have laughed at himself too to be honest.

  The guard sheathed his sword with a clatter, wiping tears from his eyes, still chuckling. He stepped up to him and took his knife and his axe off his belt.

  He stopped as soon as he saw the axe, his eyes flickered to Alec then to it for a moment, before he slapped him on the back, motioning him to move forward.

  The prisoners shuffled ahead through the thick snow, their chains rattling. Alec followed, chest tightened, still shocked but the audacity of what he had just pulled of.

  The guard walked behind, still laughing softly, clearly entertained.

  The prisoners shuffled forward, chains rattling through the snow, each step leaving deep impressions in the growing drifts. Alec followed close behind, chest tight, muscles coiled, every sense straining. The guard’s laughter faded into a low chuckle, but his presence was constant, a reminder that one misstep could undo everything.

  The trees thinned further, and the clearing ahead widened. Alec could now make out the edges of the camp more clearly: guards moved like wraiths around the perimeter, their eyes sharp, their weapons ready.

  He kept his head low, looking for gaps or opportunity.

  The prisoners trudged on, some staggering, others barely lifting their feet. The chains jingled with every step, a cruel rhythm marking their slow approach to the camp.

  One of the guard that had left earlier was waiting at the entrance, Alec’s stomach twisted, but the man’s attention was elsewhere—barking orders, pointing, adjusting his stance.

  Alec exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of relief wash over as they walked past him. Just a little further.

  Alec spotted the flagpole in the center of the camp, its banner flapping in the wind. The prize they were supposed to capture.

  Alec’s own body ached, every wound a reminder that he wasn’t invincible—but he kept moving, one careful step at a time.

  The guard behind them laughed softly again, muttering to himself. Alec couldn’t tell if it was mockery or genuine amusement.

  Finally, they reached a big wooden hut. The guard opened the door to reveal an horror show.

  Teenagers like him were put in cages or tied together on pole, like animals.

  The place was recking of death. The guard pushed them inside, forced them to sit in a corner before he stepping out, slamming and locking the door behind them.

  Alec exhaled. At least that was done.

  The camp layed before him like a chessboard—and Alec was about to make his first move.

  "If it's not our proud side character." Chuckled a familiar voice.

  The room was dimly lit. But as Alec’s eyes adjusted, he noticed something.

  Not far from them, tied to a pillar in a dark corner, two faint amber lights glowed.

  The witch.

  “I’m guessing something went wrong,” he said.

  “As soon as we got here,” she nodded. “And you?”

  She gestured toward the shackles.

  “Believe it or not, I chose to be here,” Alec said, a hint of pride slipping into his voice.

  She chuckled. He hadn’t known she was capable of humor. It sounded genuine—but she quickly stopped.

  Her head lowered. She looked defeated.

  Had she given up? Had she already accepted dying here?

  Alec had only just woken up, yet he felt like he’d lived through hell already. And now, with a moment to breathe, a thought struck him.

  How long had these kids been fighting?

  “And Aksel? I don’t see him.”

  That was a subject he couldn’t touch right now.

  “He… hasn’t been caught,” he lied.

  “So where is h—”

  “Don’t worry. I have a plan,” he cut in quickly, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

  Her piercing eyes seemed to read through him.

  “You do?” she asked. “You realize you’re tied up, right?”

  “Because I chose to be,” he replied.

  “Go ahead, genius,” she said. “I’m all ears.”

  The hut was dark, bodies packed together without regard for space or comfort. Adults and teens alike looked hollow, as if something essential had been stripped from them long ago.

  Alec had found a way inside. Now he needed a way out.

  The guards had confiscated his weapons earlier. Without them, he felt naked.

  He glanced down at his shackles, searching for a flaw—anything he could use.

  “The chains stop magic,” said a teen nearby. “We all tried.”

  Alec’s eyes flicked to him, then back to the metal around his wrists.

  He wasn’t counting on magic anyway.

  “You know it’s pointless to try to escape, right?” the boy continued. “You’re just running toward a quicker death.”

  “So you’d rather wait for a slow one?” Alec snarled.

  If the boy wanted to stay here, fine. He wasn’t dragging Alec down with him.

  “Seems like our side character finally grew some edge,” Ulf said as she audibly laughed.

  “Don’t act like you weren’t warned,” the boy muttered. “The gods have forsaken us.”

  “They were never with us,” she corrected.

  He had to focus. He felt more than he knew, and that was a fact; he had to use what he had learned until now. The shackles were restraining him from using magic. He couldn't, to begin with. Then something hit him.

  "You're not tied to shackles, are you?" He asked Ulf.

  "No, They tend to underestimate women."

  "If and only if magic is real. Am I right to believe that you can use it?"

  She finally lifted her head; a wave of cold ran through Alec.

  "Aksel could heal, what can you do?" He asked.

  It felt like she was looking through, not at him.

  "If that's what you're asking, I can't break us out."

  "I didn't ask for a miracle," he chuckled. "Something thin, like a pin?"

  "And why would I help you? if I recall right you spat on us when we asked for yours."

  That was sadly true.

  "You're right, i messed up." Alec apologised

  Ulf tilted her head, surprised by the apology.

  "When we first met, i had no idea what was going on," he admitted as he pulled on the shackles testing their strength.

  "I still don't. But i learned enough to know that, that we need to get out of this hell any way possible."

  Her eyes glowed with an eerie amber light. And a thin arc of electricity formed before her eyes, dissapearing and reappearing between Alec's fingers, crackling softly as it danced in the air.

  Warmth tingled across his palm, threatening to jump, but it held steady. He could grab it. She had made that spark?

  "You can hold it but be careful." Ulf said.

  The shackles weren't that complex, Alec had been out of worse.

  No thinking, no hesitation. He jammed the spark through the shackle's lock. A pop, a spark, a shiver—and the metal loosened. The shackles slid off his wrists with a quiet clink, like he had done that before.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “First I free you. Then we free Erick. Then we leave this hell,” Alec said as he stood.

  “Spoken like a true child,” she said, a hint of dry amusement in her voice.

  “It is,” he replied.

  He stepped forward and began untying the ropes binding her to the pillar.

  He handed his hand out and she paused for a second before taking it. Up close, Alec finally saw her clearly.

  She was taller than him, lean, built for movement rather than force. Long, unkempt brown hair fell down her back, and her amber eyes cut through the darkness with unsettling focus. Her bow was gone—but faintly glowing runes traced the bracers on her right arm, pulsing as if alive.

  If she could have used magic all along, why hadn’t she acted sooner?

  “You could have freed yourself at any time,” Alec said. “Am I wrong?”

  She nodded. “You’re not the only one who chose to be here.”

  “So what were you waiting for?”

  “I was about to leave,” she said. “But watching you play hero was… entertaining.”

  She turned fully toward him.

  “You’ve changed. I can see it. But if this is going to work, I need to know you’re with me.”

  “I just freed you.”

  “And right before that, you lied to me.”

  “Huh? About what?”

  She crossed her arms, eyebrows lifting slightly. “Do you think I’m stupid? Aksel? Really. They haven’t caught him?”

  She pausee. “You couldn’t have done better than that?”

  The weight of her gaze pressed down on Alec’s shoulders.

  He hadn’t meant to lie. He just… had to.

  “He was your friend,” Alec said quietly. “I didn’t want to—”

  She sighed, and for a moment she looked far older than she should have. Calm. Worn. Like she’d learned long ago what words were worth keeping.

  “I’ve taken worse blows,” she said. “I don’t need trust. I need respect.”

  Her eyes locked onto his.

  “Don’t lie to me. Follow my lead—and I’ll get us out.”

  Alecs's heart skipped a beat.

  Outside, commotion erupted—screams, hurried footsteps, chaos spilling through the camp.

  "That's my cue to move," she said, heading to the door and peeking outside. "You're coming?"

  “What about them?” Alec asked, glancing at the remaining prisoners.

  “We don't want to follow you to death,” said the boy from earlier.

  Alec sucked his teeth and followed her.

  “Still, good luck,” another voice called after them.