— Am I dead? — Sekire murmured, her lips cracked and almost frozen.
Her eyes slowly opened, but found nothing but a white void. There was no horizon, only an icy vastness that seemed eternal. The cold cut her skin, but what hurt the most was the invisible weight that crushed her chest, suffocating even her will to live.
She tried to get up, and her feet sank into something that felt like snow, although there was no texture or sound. She was walking, or at least she believed she was walking, in a place where the ground was crystal and the sky seemed made of solid ice. There was no wind, only absolute silence that amplified the screams that echoed inside her mind.
"The village…" she whispered, feeling a tremor that did not come from the cold.
The images came like an avalanche. The fire consuming the houses. The faces contorted in terror. Her false father, her protective figure, being swallowed by the flames while decapitated. And in the center of it all, she herself, her eyes bathed in red and her hands stained with blood.
"No!" she tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the void.
"You are ice."
The voice came from nowhere, low, sharp, echoing inside her like the sound of a blade tearing through a frozen lake.
"Who... who is there?" she asked, looking around, but finding only endless white.
"Ice is water that has given up flowing."
Sekire felt her heart tighten. The voice sounded like hers, but at the same time strange, as if it came from a version of her that had been forgotten.
"When the current stops, what is left? When pain freezes even a child's heart, what is left?"
She wanted to answer, but the words wouldn't come. Only silence. Then the cracks began. The white void around her began to shatter, like a shattered mirror. Each fragment reflected something she wanted to forget: her mother's sadistic smile as everything fell apart, her father's desperate gaze as he protected her, and the shadow she herself had become.
"You are the storm and the ice, Sekire. An endless cycle. But..."
The voice hesitated, as if doubt itself could arise in that eternal void.
"What do you want to be?"
For a brief moment, Sekire saw something. It was not large, nor impressive. Just a small flame, dancing against the cold. She tried to reach for it, but her hands pierced the freezing air. The ground began to crumble, and she fell. Darkness took over everything.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. Sekire's body lay on the ground, her fingers almost black with cold. Her breathing was weak, but it was still there. Even with all the indifference of the ice around her, she still resisted.
Sekire dragged herself through the snow like a broken shadow, her stiff, purple fingers digging into the icy surface in desperation. The pain was unbearable, each movement tearing screams from her throat. Burning tears streamed from her eyes, freezing on her face as she sobbed.
"Fuck! Why is this happening to me?!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the cold expanse.
With each word, her throat burned as if torn by blades, but she kept screaming, her screams filled with rage, pain, and hatred.
"What the fuck is this life?! Why was I born into this fucking world?! WHAT THE FUCK IS IT TO BE AN ICE?"
Her fists slammed into the snow hard, the impact scattering small white mounds and exposing the frozen earth below. The cold burned her skin, but it only made her fury grow.
"I didn't ask for this shit! I didn't want to be like this! Why can't I have a normal life?!"
The memories of the burning village, the blood, the people's terrified expressions, and her father's final scream pierced her mind like needles. Sekire sobbed uncontrollably, her teeth grinding together as her arms shook.
"Damn this rotten world! Fuck all of this! I just wanted to live! I just wanted to be a fucking child!"
She screamed so loudly that her voice cracked, becoming a hoarse moan. Still, she continued to crawl, her fingers leaving red marks in the snow.
"I hate this! I hate all of this! I don't fucking want to die! Not now! Not like this!"
Her eyes were wild, filled with hatred and despair, but also with a stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished.
Finally, her body gave out. Sekire fell face down in the snow, unable to move. Tears flowed freely, hot in contrast to the ice that surrounded her. She turned her face to the side, her chest heaving as she sobbed like a lost child.
"I just wanted to… play… I just wanted to laugh… fuck… why is it so hard?" she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
The snow continued to fall on her, covering her frail body, while Sekire cried openly.
"This shitty world… this rotten world… why was I born here?!"
Her fingers trembled on the white surface, drawing meaningless shapes as her tears continued to fall. Even consumed by pain and despair, Sekire remained.
conscious, feeling each snowflake land on her skin as a cold reminder that she was alive, even if she didn't know why.
"I will live… no matter what happens, I will live… even if this world tries to destroy me."
Her sobs echoed through the white expanse, but this time there was something different. It wasn't just despair. It was an oath.
"Am I dead?" Sekire murmured, her lips cracked and almost frozen.
Her eyes slowly opened, but found nothing but a white void. There was no horizon, only an icy expanse that seemed eternal. The cold cut into her skin, but what hurt the most was the invisible weight that crushed her chest, suffocating even her will to live.
She tried to get up, and her feet sank into something that felt like snow, although there was no texture or sound. She was walking, or at least she believed she was walking, in a place where the ground was crystal and the sky seemed made of solid ice. There was no wind, only absolute silence that amplified the screams that echoed inside her mind.
"The village…" she whispered, feeling a shiver that didn't come from the cold.
The images came like an avalanche. The fire consuming the houses. The faces contorted with terror. Her false father, her protective figure, being swallowed by the flames while decapitated. And, in the center of it all, herself, with her eyes bathed in red and her hands stained with blood.
"No!" she tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the void.
"You are ice."
The voice came from nowhere, low, sharp, echoing inside her like the sound of a blade tearing through a frozen lake.
"Who… who's there?" she asked, looking around, but found only infinite white.
"Ice is water that has given up flowing."
Sekire felt her heart tighten. The voice sounded like her own, but at the same time strange, as if it came from a version of her that had been forgotten.
"When the current stops, what is left? When pain freezes even a child's heart, what is left?"
She wanted to answer, but the words wouldn't come. Only silence. Then the cracks began. The white void around her began to split, like a shattered mirror. Each fragment reflected something she wanted to forget: her mother's sadistic smile as everything fell apart, her father's desperate gaze wanting to protect her, and the shadow she herself had become.
"You are the storm and the ice, Sekire. An endless cycle. But..."
The voice hesitated, as if doubt itself might arise in that eternal void.
"What do you want to be?"
For a brief moment, Sekire saw something. It wasn't big, or impressive. Just a small flame, dancing against the cold. She tried to reach for it, but her hands went through the icy air. The ground began to crumble, and she fell. Darkness engulfed everything.
Outside, the snow continued to fall. Sekire's body lay on the ground, her fingers nearly black from the cold. Her breathing was weak, but it was still there. Even with all the indifference of the ice around her, she still resisted.
Sekire dragged herself through the snow like a broken shadow, her stiff, purple fingers digging into the icy surface in desperation. The pain was unbearable, each movement tearing screams from her throat. Burning tears streamed from her eyes, freezing on her face as she sobbed.
"Fuck! Why is this happening to me?!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the cold vastness.
With each word, her throat burned as if torn by blades, but she kept screaming, her screams filled with rage, pain, and hatred.
"What the hell kind of life is this?! Why was I born into this fucking world?!" WHAT THE FUCK IS IT TO BE AN ICE?
Her fists pounded the snow hard, the impact scattering small white mounds and exposing the frozen earth below. The cold burned her skin, but it only made her fury grow.
"I didn't ask for this shit! I didn't want to be like this! Why can't I have a normal life?!"
The memories of the burning village, the blood, the people's terrified expressions, and her father's final scream pierced her mind like needles. Sekire sobbed uncontrollably, her teeth grinding as her arms shook.
"Damn this rotten world! Fuck all of this! I just wanted to live! I just wanted to be a fucking kid!"
She screamed so loudly that her voice cracked, becoming a hoarse moan. Still, she continued to crawl, her fingers leaving red marks in the snow.
"I hate this! I hate all of this! I don't want to fucking die! Not now! Not like this!"
Her eyes were wild, filled with hatred and despair, but also with a stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished.
Finally, her body gave out. Sekire fell face down in the snow, unable to move. Tears flowed freely, hot against the ice surrounding her. She turned her face to the side, her chest heaving as she sobbed like a lost child.
"I just wanted to… play… I just wanted to laugh… fuck… why is it so hard?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
by the crying.
The snow continued to fall on her, covering her fragile body, while Sekire cried openly.
"This shitty world... this rotten world... why was I born here?!"
Her fingers trembled on the white surface, drawing meaningless shapes as her tears continued to fall. Even consumed by pain and despair, Sekire remained conscious, feeling each snowflake land on her skin as a cold reminder that she was alive, even if she didn't know why.
"I will live... no matter what happens, I will live... even if this world tries to destroy me."
Her sobs echoed through the white expanse, but this time there was something different. It wasn't just despair. It was an oath.
Sekire awoke with an effort, as if emerging from a nightmare too dense to dissipate. Her eyelids slowly opened, revealing the flickering light of a bonfire that blinded her for a moment. For a brief moment, she believed she was back in the icy village, that hell of ice and despair. But the comforting warmth of the fire and the hypnotic crackle of the burning wood shook her from that illusion. She tried to move her arms, then her legs, but realized they were tightly bound. The weight of helplessness enveloped her like a cold blanket, but it was quickly broken by a firm, measured voice, like the crack of a whip in the stillness.
"Finally. I thought I wouldn't wake up."
With effort, Sekire turned her face toward the voice. On the other side of the bonfire, a male figure emerged from the shadows like an extension of the pitch-black itself. Tall, wrapped in black robes that seemed to swallow the light of the fire, he was a spectral presence. His pale, austere face contrasted with his eyes that shone like daggers, analyzing her with almost surgical precision. Despite his calm, there was something in the way he held a knife, carving wood, that suggested a latent threat.
"Where... where am I?" Sekire stammered, her voice hoarse and hesitant.
The man looked up, but remained silent. He finished carving what looked like an arrowhead before answering, as if the priority was the object in his hands, and not her life.
"In a place where your luck could run out at any moment." He paused, observing her with almost clinical interest. "Now speak. Who are you?"
Sekire's throat was dry, each word a battle against emptiness. Still, she gathered what little courage she had left.
"My name... is Sekire. I am..." she hesitated. What truth could she offer? "I am from the village to the north.
The man raised an eyebrow, but his face remained frozen in ice.
"The village to the north," he repeated, his tone filled with sharp curiosity. "It's empty. Everyone's dead. And yet, here you are. Alive. Tied up. And with the look of someone who saw something they shouldn't have."
His words pierced Sekire, bringing back memories she wanted to bury. Before she could formulate a response, he interrupted her.
"Tell me. How did you survive?"
She took a deep breath, fighting to control the panic that was consuming her. His calm was worse than a blade, as sharp as the judgment hidden in his eyes.
"It was a demon…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "It came out of nowhere, slaughtered everyone. I… managed to escape before it found me."
The man tilted his head slightly, like a curious predator. Then he gave a dry laugh, devoid of any humor.
"Demon?" He shook his head mockingly. "Stories for children. Demons are just names that weaklings give to what they do not understand."
Sekire fell silent, his eyes lost in the glow of the fire. He did not believe her, that was clear, but he seemed willing to let the subject drop. The silence that followed was thick, heavy as the snow clouds outside.
When he spoke again, his voice was a thin blade.
"Why were you wandering in the snow?"
"I…" she searched for the words, as if groping in the dark. "I didn't know where to go. I just wanted to escape."
The man let out a sigh, more thoughtful than impatient.
"And yet you didn't die. Strange."
He stood up, and Sekire instinctively recoiled. Despite his heavy clothing, his movements were agile, like a wolf gliding across the ice. He picked up a piece of meat from the fire and tossed it to her.
"Eat."
She hesitated, but her hunger was greater than her fear. She tried to eat, but her tied hands made the gesture nearly impossible. He watched her struggle with a look that mixed curiosity and contempt.
"Life in the village must have been hard." His tone was distant, but with a trace of genuine interest. "That explains your endurance. Few could survive that long in the snow."
"It was horrible," Sekire murmured, more to herself than to him. "No matter how hard you tried. It was never enough."
"And you think the world owes you something for that?" His question cut through the air, as cold as the snow outside.
Sekire looked up, surpris
ed by the harshness of his words.
"I... just wanted something better." Something that wouldn't be so miserable.
The man studied her for a moment before answering, his voice filled with an almost philosophical contempt.
"The world doesn't offer 'better'. It gives you what you take. Nothing more. If you think the suffering is over, you're wrong. It's only just beginning."
His words were like stones thrown into a lake, each one reverberating in Sekire's mind. She closed her eyes, trying to find in the warmth of the fire some solace for the coldness that seemed to consume her soul.
The silence inside the cave stretched on longer than Sekire would have expected. The heat from the fire still pulsed
by her side, but her body was frozen with frustration, fear, and exhaustion. When Feitan finally spoke, his voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, without mercy, without emotion.
"I will give you one last chance, child." He took a step closer, his dark eyes fixed on her. "Answer me truthfully, or I will consider you a threat to be eliminated."
Sekire swallowed hard. She knew the man before her was not joking. He was calculating, direct, and dangerous.
"I... I..." She hesitated, her eyes drifting to the ground, trying to organize her thoughts. "I am the only survivor... of my village. A monster... he destroyed everyone..."
Feitan watched her without showing any sign of doubt. He did not seem surprised by her story. After all, he had seen similar things before. But still, he felt there was something more to that story.
"A monster, huh?" His voice was cold, cutting. — So you're saying it was a monster, and not a general from some kingdom or any other human force that destroyed your village?
Sekire flinched at the question. The man didn't seem to believe her, but at the same time, he wasn't challenging her directly. He was just… waiting.
"Yes… a monster. I saw his eyes, and he… he attacked me. But I… managed to escape."
Feitan stared at her in silence for a long moment. The expression on his face never changed. He didn't believe her, but he also didn't seem interested in confronting a child about fantasies.
"You're a child," he said, with an almost imperceptible lightness. "And like all children, you imagine things. If you want to live, you'll need to be stronger than that."
Sekire bit her lip, trying to hide the pain in her words. He was right, but she didn't know what else to say. She had no way of proving anything, and that made her mind even more cloudy.
Feitan took a step back, watching the young woman with a calculating but indifferent gaze. He gestured as if he had already lost interest and, without looking back, began walking towards the cave exit.
"Go away then, little one. As I said, your life is of no interest to me. Survive, if you can." He paused for a moment, and his voice sounded almost impersonal. "But know that the world will not be kind to you. You are nothing. A commoner, alone in the ice. There is no future for people like you."
Sekire looked at him, the words she had just heard echoing in her mind. The emptiness he suggested seemed impossible to fill. She felt so small. She felt purposeless. Without anyone.
"Please…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't want to live like this. Take me somewhere… where I can have a chance. I just… I just want to live."
Feitan paused again, not turning his head. He didn't turn around, but his expression was clear. It was as if he had seen many of these pleas before. His tone didn't change, but his words cut like a dagger.
"Your life is worthless. No place will take you in. And even if they do, you will be used. You will become a nobleman's whore, or a servant worth no more than a sack of potatoes. There is no redemption for you, child. There is no redemption for anyone like you."
His words sent shockwaves through Sekire. Each one bit deeper, making her feel even more worthless. It was as if he had given voice to her greatest fear, that of being nothing. Of having no value.
She couldn't accept this. She didn't want to. The pain of hearing the brutal truth made her act. Without thinking, she stood up and ran to him, her hands gripping Feitan's cloak with all the strength she had left.
"Please, I… I beg you! Don't leave me here!" Take me away from here, anywhere! I don't... I don't want to die here!
Feitan looked at her hands that were still clutching his cloak. His cold gaze didn't change, but his patience was running out. With a single movement, he pushed her away with a brutal shove. Sekire was thrown backwards, falling with a thud on the cold floor of the cave. The pain she felt made her body shudder, but she didn't care. She wanted more. She wanted to fight.
Feitan looked at her, his eyes narrowing, and the words that came out of his mouth were a simple but deadly threat:
"Don't touch me again. If you insist, I'll finish you right here."
Sekire didn't care. She stood up, her face dirty with dirt and tears. Her fists were clenched, and something inside her burned with desperate determination.
"I'll fight!" she shouted, advancing towards Feitan with everything she had.
Feitan watched the approaching girl with a disinterested gaze. She was just a child, weak, out of control. But there was something in the intensity of her expression that sparked, for a brief moment, a faint interest. It was more than desperation. It was an inner flame, albeit a fragile one.
Sekire unleashed a clumsy series of blows, which Feitan easily dodged. She advanced in a disorganized manner, motivated by adrenaline and rage, but he remained unwavering, blocking and dodging each movement with frightening precision.
With a quick and calculated strike, Feitan struck Sekire's neck, making her faint.
"You have potential. But without control... none of that matters."
He picked her up in his arms, leaving the cave. Her fate was not revealed to him.