Duskfire Glacier one more test

the cold bit deep.
it curled through the glacier like a living thing, threading ice through faust’s limbs, sinking into the marrow of his bones. he welcomed it. let the fury that burned in his chest temper against the sharp bite of winter, let it keep him standing when he wanted nothing more than to sink into the snow and let the weight of it all bury him.
skorpa had refused.
it still sat like a stone in his gut. a fire that had no place to burn, only simmer beneath his ribs, eating at him from the inside. he should not have been surprised, but fuck, had he hoped. had he let himself think, even for a moment, that there was a chance to forge something from the ashes of their history.
he had been wrong.
he should not have begged.
he should not have let himself believe.
but dawn was coming, and faust had one last attempt to make.
his breath curled in the freezing air, the weight of battle pressing against the horizon. they were outnumbered. they were outmatched. and faust was not fool enough to go to war with nothing but pride and rage.
so he called for her.
@Svalla.
her name cut through the silence, carrying into the frostbitten dark. a command. a request. a plea.
he stood tall, squared against the wind, green eyes burning in the pre-dawn gloom.
if she answered, he would ask.
and if she did not—
then war would come regardless.