Reborn

The frozen wasteland stretched endlessly, a cage of silence and white. Mira still hadn’t moved. Her body was curled into itself, her head pressed against her arms, strands of blond hair stuck to her cheeks by the ice of half-frozen tears. Every breath she released seemed thinner, weaker, as if even her will to exhale was fading.

Lian and Kael exchanged a glance. No words were needed. They both knew: if they didn’t reach her now, the cold in this place wouldn’t just devour her (and their) body—it would bury her spirit.

Lian stepped closer, lowering himself onto one knee in front of her. For several moments, he didn’t speak. He wanted to choose words that were real, not empty comforts. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, unsteady, but genuine.

“Mira… I know this world hasn’t been kind to you. I know what you’ve seen, what you’ve lost. You’re carrying things Kael and I can’t fully understand, scars we can’t erase. But please—listen. Not to a swordsman, not to a leader. Just… to a friend who’s terrified of losing you right here.”

Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she kept her head down.

Lian leaned in closer. “You don’t see it yourself, but you’ve been holding us together. Every time Kael and I got reckless, you steadied us. Every time I doubted myself, you reminded me that I wasn’t useless. You’ve fought beside us—not only with your magic, but with your presence. You make us more than just three people wandering around. With you, we’re… complete.”

Finally, Mira’s voice cracked out, muffled against her knees. “I chose to join you both because I thought… maybe moving forward would help me forget. Forget the past. Forget the things I couldn’t change. But… evidently, I failed. The past always finds me. And now it’s found you too.”

Lian’s chest tightened at her words. He lowered his voice. “You didn’t fail. Healing doesn’t mean erasing everything. It means… still being able to stand, even when the weight is unbearable. Mira, you’re standing with us now, even if you don’t see it. You kept walking forward long enough to find Kael and me, and to make something new. That isn’t failure—that’s strength.”

Her hands clenched around her legs. Her next words came out sharper, rawer. “What hurts most is this sense of… impotence. I couldn’t do anything for my mother that day. She told me to hide, to stay behind the tree, if the general turned out dangerous. And I obeyed. I just stood there. I listened to her die. And I’m still carrying it, Lian. Even now, I live with this gnawing fear that, when the moment comes, I’ll never be able to protect anyone. That I’ll be useless again.”

The confession cracked the frozen air more than any storm. Kael flinched, but Lian didn’t move away. He forced himself to hold her words, not reject them. He let a long silence stretch before answering.

“Mira… I can’t tell you that fear is meaningless, or that it will magically vanish. But I can tell you this—you’re wrong about being powerless. I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen you risk yourself to shield us. And even when you weren’t throwing an orb, even when you weren’t blasting enemies into ash, your presence alone gave us courage. Do you know how many times Kael and I could have given up if not for you being there? You say you were powerless that day, but ever since, you’ve been proving the opposite. You’ve been fighting back against that memory every single step you took with us.”

Mira’s head lifted slightly, revealing her frozen lashes, her eyes red and wet. “And what if, when it matters most, I still fail?”

Lian held her gaze. “Then we fail together. That’s the truth. We’re not asking you to carry us. We’re asking you to walk with us. If you stumble, Kael and I will pull you back up. And if we stumble, you’ll do the same. That’s what it means to be a group—not perfection, not heroes who never fail. Just people who refuse to leave each other behind.”

Kael, who had been quiet, stepped forward now, her voice softer than Mira had ever heard it. “He’s right. Mira… before I met you two, I was nothing but a runner. Surviving, not living. You showed me I could belong somewhere. You gave me a home I didn’t think I deserved. You say you fear being powerless, but to me… you’ve been the strongest person I know. Because you made me stop running.”

Mira blinked, fresh tears falling, this time not entirely from despair. Her lips trembled, words hesitant. “You two… really are impossible. I don’t know if I can ever erase this fear. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop seeing that day.”

“You don’t need to,” Lian replied firmly. “You just need to keep walking with us. We don’t want a perfect Mira. We just want you. The one who argues with me, who laughs at Kael’s jokes, who makes this group something worth believing in. Without you, we’re not the same. Without you, we’re less.”

For a long moment, only the whistling wind filled the air. Then, slowly, Mira pushed herself up, Kael’s hand steadying her. She stood shakily, her face still marked by frozen tears, her body still heavy with doubt—but standing nonetheless.

Kael brushed ice from Mira’s hair, her own eyes suspiciously wet. “Helping you isn’t a burden. It’s the least we can do. And I promise—I’ll never forget how lucky I was to meet you both. I’ll never take either of you for granted.”

Mira gave a weak, trembling smile. “Alright… I’ll stand. I may never be free of this past. But if you’ll still have me, I’ll keep moving forward. And maybe… maybe that’s enough.”

As soon as her words left her lips, the air shifted. The biting wind stilled. The snow softened underfoot. The clouds parted, letting shafts of sunlight pierce the sky, scattering diamonds of light across the frozen field. Warmth touched their faces for the first time since they had been cast into this nightmare.

Lian placed a hand on Mira’s shoulder, his grip steady. “It’s more than enough. Because we’re together.”

The three of them stood in the glow of the sun, shadows stretching long across the melting ice. For the first time since the trial began, the wasteland no longer felt like a tomb—it felt like a place reborn.