Cold air filled the cabin as Sylvia slowly opened her eyes. The storm no longer howled, no violent tremors rattled the carriage walls. Only silence remained broken now and then by a faint creak of wood straining under the weight of snow outside.
She let out a long breath and sat up. Her crimson pupils glimmered faintly in the dark cabin. Black chains floated lazily around her body, as if still ready in case the storm returned.
"...So quiet." Her voice was hoarse, low.
Sylvia raised her hand, pressing her pale palm against the wooden boards she had nailed across the window the night before. The surface was cold and biting. She pushed gently, the board shifted with a creak... before she yanked it free with bare hands.
A flood of blinding white light struck her eyes. She squinted, her lips tightening.
The sight beyond made her exhale sharply. Snow had swallowed nearly half the carriage. White drifts piled so high they covered the windows, as if the vehicle had been buried alive in a frozen sea.
Sylvia shook her head, her face grim. "If it weren’t me... ordinary people would’ve frozen to death here."
She lifted her hand, and in an instant, violet-blue Nether Flame flared across her palm. Unlike normal fire, it didn’t burn, it hissed against the snow, evaporating it with long ssshhhhhh. White vapor rolled outward, slowly opening a narrow path to the carriage door.
Once there was enough space, Sylvia opened the door and stepped outside. Her black boots sank halfway to the shin in the deep snow. She stood for a moment, scowling, her long black hair blowing in the morning wind.
"Damn it all..." she muttered irritably. "Of all times to travel, why a storm in the middle of the road?"
With a heavy sigh, she glanced at the carriage’s side. The steel plates she’d used as anchors last night still stood firm, half-buried in snow. With a flick of her hand, black chains coiled around the metal and tugged them free. The plates drifted toward her, then vanished into her system storage with a whooomp.
"At least... not wasted."
Sylvia trudged forward, swaying slightly in the thick snow. She decided not to waste more strength outside. With a wave of her hand, an iron kettle appeared from the void. She plunged it into a mound of snow, scooping until it was full.
Carrying the heavy, cold kettle, she climbed back into the carriage. Sitting down, she let her chains lift the kettle into the air. Nether Flame sparked to life again, wrapping the base of the iron with violet-blue fire.
Snow melted slowly, turning to clear boiling water. Warm steam filled the cabin, making the space more comfortable. Sylvia drew out a small pouch from her gown, plucked a few dried tea leaves, and dropped them into the bubbling water. A faint aroma drifted up, blending with the chill seeping through the cracks in the boards.
She poured the steaming liquid into a small black cup. Slowly, she blew across it and sipped.
"Ahh..." Sylvia closed her eyes briefly, letting the warmth seep through her mouth and throat. "Better."
For a few minutes, she sat quietly, savoring the simple tea.
But when her gaze returned to the window, her lips pressed thin. Snow. Too deep. Even if she tried, the steel wheels of the carriage wouldn’t carry her far.
"In this condition... using the carriage is impossible."
She set the cup down on the small table and stood. Her long black gown swept the cabin floor as she stepped out again. Outside, she looked at the zombie-drawn carriage with a flat expression.
"In that case... this is the end of the road."
Her hand rose. Whoooosh! In an instant, the carriage and its harness vanished into her system storage, leaving only wheel tracks half-buried in snow.
Sylvia stood in the vast white plain, her thick black cloak whipping in the cold wind. Her crimson pupils fixed northward toward her black castle.
She clenched her hand. "No more delays. On my own feet, I’ll reach it faster."
With a long breath, Sylvia began to run.
Each step slammed into the snow, leaving deep prints that quickly filled as flakes drifted down. Her gown whipped wildly, black chains gleaming in the air like wings of shadow.
The wind slapped her face, but she didn’t slow. She only dipped her head slightly, letting her zombie body’s strength withstand nature’s onslaught.
In her mind, whispers of her shadow zombies lingered reports of Church ships attempting to inscribe teleportation circles. All had failed. Yet Sylvia knew, that was only the beginning.
"When winter ends... they’ll come. Not hundreds, but thousands."
She kept running, her figure a streak of black shadow across the white expanse.
Sylvia quickened her pace. Her steps landed in a steady rhythm, and each time she leapt over a tall snowdrift, her black cloak flared wide, forming a silhouette like a night bird skimming low across the white sea.
The forests to her left and right looked like rows of massive black pillars draped in snow. Heavy branches drooped, some broken by last night’s storm, leaving behind cracking sounds kraakk that echoed through the cold air. Night birds scattered, startled by the figure darting swiftly beneath them.
Sylvia’s gaze stayed fixed forward, her eyes glowing faintly. In her mind, she heard the faint whispers of shadow zombies watching the coastline, brief reports of Church ships intercepted, teleportation circles destroyed before they could activate. The information layered itself in her head, yet her stride never faltered.
"I can’t afford to let my guard down. If there’s even a single opening..." she thought. Her breath came out in thin white mist, instantly devoured by the wind.
From time to time, Sylvia paused atop a small hill, scanning the distance. Snow still fell, though softer than the night before. From there she could see the long path she had yet to cross: a white valley stretched wide, a frozen river glinting like a black line, and the dark forest cloaking the road toward the castle.
She descended the slope with a light leap. Her black chains struck into a tree trunk, pulling her forward so she shot swiftly down the steep incline. When the chains recoiled, she landed gracefully on the ground, sending a spray of snow scattering around her.
She ran on. Her body pierced through the thin mist clinging between the trees. At times low branches barred the way, but her black chains lashed out first, snapping them with a crack before they could scratch her skin.
The forest wind carried the scent of damp earth, mushrooms, and biting cold. But Sylvia focused only on one thing: the silhouette of the black castle looming in the distance.
After an hour of running without pause, she stopped briefly at the edge of a frozen river. Her breath was steady, her face calm, her body betraying almost no sign of fatigue. Yet she bent down, touching the ice with her cold fingers.
"Still solid... it will hold until spring," she muttered flatly.
She moved again, crossing the frozen river in a single long leap. Her gown whipped behind her, black chains anchoring into the cliffside ahead, pulling her smoothly onto the opposite bank.
Her journey pressed on. She passed through the last forest, running headlong into the strengthening wind.
The sky paled when Sylvia finally stopped on a snowy hill. From there, she saw the dark forest sprawling below and beyond it... the silhouette of her towering black castle.
Thin smoke curled from its highest tower, proof her zombies kept the fires alive. Even here, Sylvia could feel the faint pulse of her loyal army.
She sighed, her shoulders lowering slightly. "Finally... home."
Yet her smile was thin, cold. Because she knew: home only meant one thing: preparing for the war ahead.
The castle gates groaned open, heavy as grinding bones. From the misty chill, zombies lining the walls bowed deeply. Their ranks were silent, disciplined, as though welcoming back their sovereign.
Sylvia strode in, her black gown brushing across the snowy courtyard. Crimson eyes swept over the rows of soldiers. They all bowed without sound, their dark aura trembling faintly in the air.
She gave a slight nod simply, but enough to show she accepted their respect.
Without another word, Sylvia walked into the castle halls. Her footsteps echoed against cold stone, blue torchlight flickering along the corridor. Behind her, black chains swayed faintly with every movement.
..... The source of this content ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱
After the long journey through the storm, her mind focused on one thing only: her workspace room. The vast black desk, the maps, the army reports those gave her control, something she needed now.
But just before she reached the heavy door, her ears caught a faint sound from within.
Sylvia stopped. Her brow lifted slightly. That voice... familiar, but utterly unexpected in her workspace room.
Quietly, she approached. Her pale hand touched the black iron handle and pushed, opening the door just a crack. Enough to see.
Her crimson eyes widened slightly.
Inside, under the dim blue torchlight, was a sight she never expected: Aurellia sat on Celes’s lap, their arms entwined tightly. Their lips met in a deep kiss hungry yet tender. Faint sighs and the rustle of fabric filled the otherwise silent room.
Sylvia froze for a moment. A strange thrum stirred in her chest not anger, but surprise.
Then, slowly, a faint smile touched her lips. Rare, soft, even warm.
"...Celes..." she whispered, barely audible.
She closed the door gently, careful not to let the hinges creak. Turning away, she walked the corridor with light steps.
The smile lingered on her face. Relief knowing that Celes, who had always stood at her side, had found warmth too.
But behind it, Sylvia felt something else. A small hollow ache in her chest.
She entered her own chamber. Once the black-canopied doors closed behind her, Sylvia sat on the edge of the large bed, her gaze empty against the frost-fogged window.
Sofia’s image filled her mind. That bright smile, the warmth of her eyes, the gentle voice that calmed even amidst chaos.
Her pale fingers clenched over her lap.
"If only... you were here."
Her words were soft, almost drowned in the night’s silence.
Sylvia lay back slowly, her gown rustling against the cold sheets. Her crimson pupils gleamed faintly at the ceiling.
But there was nothing she could do. The world between them was a wall too thick to break.
All she could do was remember the brief moments with Sofia, her small laughs, even the worried stares that had always followed Sylvia’s dangerous choices.
She pulled the blanket up, hiding part of her face.