Duskfire Glacier mahtar

faust watched him go, pale eyes lingering on the wraith’s retreating form. astier was a blade, sharp and keen, but blades were only as useful as the hands that wielded them.
a war we will win, he murmured again, more to himself than anyone else, letting the words settle like frost on his tongue.
his own exit was quieter, purposeful, fading into the night as easily as he had come. the glacier awaited.