Dawn broke with a reluctant grayness, spilling over the temporary camp like a faded memory. Snow hadn't fallen during the night, but the chill remained, threading its way through every crack in the canvas tents. The fires had died, and no one rushed to reignite them. Fuel was running low. Everything was.
Ashen rose before the others, as he always did, slipping outside with slow, deliberate steps. The crunch of his boots over thin snow seemed louder in the quiet. For a long while, he stood by the outer perimeter of the camp, watching as soldiers began organizing supply crates.
A gust of wind pushed past him, dragging with it the faint cries of a child somewhere deeper in the tents. He turned slightly but didn't move. His thoughts felt heavier than usual, dragging like an old coat soaked in water.
Behind him, Elira approached, holding two tin cups.
"Still brooding before breakfast?" she asked gently.
He accepted the cup she offered. The liquid inside was barely warm, but the steam that curled up smelled of something earthy.
"I'm just thinking," he replied.
"About what?"
Ashen sipped in silence, then finally said, "The people here… they look at us like we're their last hope. And we're barely holding it together."
"We're not meant to be their salvation, Ashen. Just their help. For now."
He didn't reply, but Elira didn't expect him to.
---
Later that morning, Lieutenant Grey assembled the units. Over a hundred soldiers now stood ready, forming ranks like old statues chiseled by exhaustion.
Grey's voice cut through the biting wind. "Today begins the first wave of civilian evacuation. Sick, elderly, and children will be prioritized. The roads ahead are unstable—threats both natural and otherwise remain. Stay alert. Stay human. We're not just moving bodies. We're saving lives."
Murmurs ran through the crowd. Kerr whispered to Lin, "He always sound like that or did the cold freeze his sense of humor too?"
Lin elbowed him. "Shut up. He's trying."
Ashen stood beside Sera and Raynar. The princess hadn't spoken much since the previous night.
She wore the same standard cloak as the rest of them, but her posture remained noble, even now. A subtle tension marked her shoulders—pride fighting guilt.
Ashen broke the silence between them. "You should speak to them. The people."
Sera looked sideways. "And say what? That I'm sorry they suffer while I grew up warm and fed?"
"Say something true," he said. "They're not expecting miracles. Just a voice."
She looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded once.
---
The evacuation began with organized chaos. Unit 9 was assigned a quadrant near the northern end of camp, where the sickest were housed. The tents there smelled of antiseptic and desperation.
Raynar led the effort, using his commanding tone to calm panicked families. Elira handled transport logistics, organizing groups into manageable lines.
Ashen, meanwhile, helped an old woman pack her belongings—just a threadbare bag and a faded photo.
"Is this all you're bringing?" he asked.
The woman smiled, her voice raspy. "I lost everything else long before the snow. This is enough."
The boy from Athen stood nearby, helping another family carry blankets.
Kerr and Lin offered snacks to the children, who responded with hesitant smiles.
Sera stood quietly at first, observing.
Then she stepped forward. Her voice, though soft, rang with the authority of someone born to lead.
"I am Seraphine of Asteron. Many of you know the name. You don't need to kneel or bow. Just… listen. I didn't come here as royalty. I came as one of you. I see what you've endured. I can't erase it. But I will remember it. I will carry it."
A hush settled over the crowd.
A woman in the back whispered, "She's the princess?"
Another added, "She's here. With us."
Ashen watched their faces shift—not into joy, but into something softer. Trust, maybe. Or something close to it.
He turned to look at Sera.
She met his gaze. Her eyes were wet.
---
The first convoy pulled out by midday, a line of trucks winding through the frozen path like metal snakes. Snow flurries began to drift again, painting the scene with a quiet kind of dread.
Ashen rode in the second truck this time, packed alongside three elderly passengers and the boy. Sera sat near the front, deep in thought.
Kerr joked lightly with Lin again, trying to break the tension.
Raynar kept watch through the window slit, every few moments adjusting the lance strapped to his back.
Elira dozed, head resting against the cold metal.
And Ashen watched the sky.
Something gnawed at his chest—an old ache, maybe. Or a new one.
The boy spoke quietly. "She sounded sad."
Ashen nodded. "Because she cares. That's why it matters."
"Will she come back?"
Ashen didn't answer.
The snow fell harder now. The road ahead blurred into white.
But the truck pressed on.
---
By nightfall, the convoy reached the halfway post—another checkpoint swarming with soldiers. There were tents here too, but newer ones. Reinforced. Organized.
Grey greeted them personally, voice low but firm. "We'll rest here until morning. Roads past this are monitored, but unstable. Dream Eater activity is rumored near the next valley."
"Should we engage if spotted?" Raynar asked.
"Only if provoked. Priority is the evacuees."
As night wrapped around them, Ashen wandered to the edge of the checkpoint.
He found the boy again, staring up at the sky.
"Do you think we're safe here?" the boy asked.
Ashen crouched beside him. "Safe enough to sleep. That's a start."
The boy nodded. "You're not like most soldiers."
Ashen smiled faintly. "Most soldiers don't want to be."
From behind, Sera's voice came quietly. "He's also terrible at resting."
Ashen stood. "Someone has to stay awake."
Sera looked at the stars. "They look colder tonight."
"Everything does."
They didn't say more. The silence, for once, was warm.