Aria's POV

The road stretched endlessly before me, a ribbon of mud and frost under a sky the colour of ash. My boots were soaked through, my feet numb. I kept walking because stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant breaking again.

The air was sharp enough to sting my lungs, the kind that made your breath visible, like proof you were still alive even when you wished you weren't. The northern wind carried the scent of pine and iron, and sometimes...just sometimes...I swore I caught his ...