The corridors of the Blue Heart's winter refuge echoed beneath the measured footfalls of West and the crewman leading him. The fort, once filled with laughter, arguments, and the clatter of civilians and soldiers preparing for another change in the season, had settled into an uneasy quiet over the long winter. Even the stone walls seemed to carry the weight of names no one spoke anymore.
The crewman stopped before a weathered wooden door, its iron hinges blackened with age. He stepped aside and gestured toward it. "Go ahead."
West glanced at the door before looking back at the man. "You first."
A tired chuckle escaped the crewman. He walked past West instead, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze before withdrawing his hand. "Good luck, brother."
There was sympathy in his voice, but relief too. Relief that he wasn't the one crossing that threshold. His boots carried him back down the corridor until even their echoes disappeared, leaving West alone with the silence.
He lingered for a moment, staring at the worn grain of the door. Time felt irrelevant now. Eight months since Smoli's funeral, and since Odessa had last truly been herself.
West drew a slow breath, held it, then let it escape as he pushed the door open. Warm air greeted him first. Then the scent of burning incense.
Smoke drifted lazily through the chamber, curling between thin shafts of candlelight until it swallowed the room in a pale haze. West blinked against the sting in his eyes, waiting for his vision to adjust.
"Odessa?"
No answer came.
Heavy black cloth had been draped across every window, shutting out the pale, fading daylight. The room survived only by candlelight, their wavering flames casting long shadows that danced across the stone walls.
As the smoke slowly parted, a familiar figure emerged from the darkness. Odessa stood with her back to him before a shrine built from shattered shields. For a heartbeat, West almost didn't recognize her.
The woman who had once seemed too stubborn for exhaustion itself had surrendered weight to the winter. Her broad shoulders remained proud, but the strength that once filled her frame had withered beneath months of grief. Even standing perfectly still, she looked as though she carried armor no one else could see.
She never turned.
She simply remained before the broken shields, their splintered faces reflecting the candlelight like fractured memories.
The silence lingered until Odessa finally stepped away from the shrine. She crossed the room with measured steps, stopping just beyond the reach of the candlelight. Even now, she kept part of herself hidden in the shadows.
"Good morning, Captain." West tried to break the silence.
The greeting hung unanswered for a heartbeat.
"We've arranged your compensation." She inclined her head toward the darkest corner of the room.
West followed the gesture, feeling his way through the dim chamber. "A new sun's already up," he muttered, stretching a hand through the haze before colliding with the edge of a chair. "You ever think about letting a little of it in here?"
Without waiting for a reply, West turned and tore the black veil from the nearest window.
Cold morning light spilled into the room, chasing away the smoke and revealing a heavy leather sack resting beside the wall.
West crouched beside it and loosened the drawstring. The dull gleam of gold stared back at him. His brows lifted. "...That's a lot of gratitude."
He reached inside, letting a handful of coins slide through his fingers before looking over his shoulder. "What exactly am I being paid for?"
"For your service." The light finally found Odessa.
West's smile faded almost as quickly as it had come.
Winter had carved itself into her. The sharp certainty that once lived in her eyes had dulled beneath months of sleepless nights, and though she still carried herself like a captain, exhaustion clung to her shoulders more heavily than any armor ever had.
"I was under the impression I was your prisoner," West answered.
"And where were your chains?" Odessa responded, the answer came without apology. "You could have left at any time."
West looked back at the sack before closing it again. "So that's it?"
"It is." She folded her hands behind her back. "Take what you've earned. Gather your things, and leave before the rest of the snow melts."
West studied her for a long moment. "You just threw me off the crew."
"You do not have the heart for what I plan on unleashing in these territories." There wasn't anger in her voice. Only cold certainty. "I will take Evokia. Every city, every farm, every person, and every slave."
West leaned against the table, folding his arms. "I figured this was about the Dragon."
"The Red Dragon needs me more than I need it." Her gaze never wavered. "It will find its way into my hands when the Gods tire of playing their games."
Odessa lifted a hand toward the door. "You may go."
West glanced at it but made no effort to move. When he looked back at her, his voice had lost the lightness it had carried moments before. "You must be aware that everyone is worried about you."
A faint crease formed between Odessa's brows. "Everyone?"
"The crew." He took another slow step into the room. "Broc. Turik. Pearl. Even the ones who barely speak your name anymore." He searched her face, finding the woman who had once stood at the front of every charge now hiding inside a room that hadn't seen daylight in months.
"They're not afraid of you, Odessa." His voice softened. "They're afraid of losing you."
The words lingered in the still air.
Odessa studied him carefully, almost as if trying to decide whether he believed what he'd just said. "And what exactly do you think is happening to me?"
“It’s hard to explain, but I’ve felt it, some kind of darkness.” West lowered his eyes for a moment. "When Lord Omni died..."
The name alone carried enough weight to quiet the room.
"...I felt it." His fingers curled unconsciously against his palm. "I stopped listening. Stopped caring. I even told myself nothing mattered anymore because it hurt less than admitting everything did."
He drew a slow breath. "And somewhere along the way... I became someone I didn't recognize."
Odessa remained silent.
"I killed a young man." The confession came without hesitation. "I still remember his face." His jaw tightened. "I remember telling myself…he deserved it."
Another pause.
"And maybe he did, but I should not have been the one to make that decision."
The room seemed smaller now.
West finally looked back at her. "I let Master Omni down."
A faint smile crossed his lips. “I always let him down. …It was kind of my thing."
Odessa folded her arms. "One man?" There was no cruelty in her voice. Only exhaustion. "All this agony because you killed… One. Man?"
West gave a quiet nod. "Perhaps." His eyes drifted toward the shrine behind her. "But grief doesn't measure the souls we take. It measures the ones we’ve lost."
The words found their mark.
For the first time since he'd entered the room, Odessa looked away.
West stepped closer, close enough that neither candlelight nor shadow stood between them anymore. "I'm not telling you this because I think our situations are similar." He slowly extended his hand toward her. "I'm telling you because sometimes the souls we take are not just our enemies."
His open hand remained between them. "But our own..." His eyes settled on the broken shields behind her. "...and unless we let a little sunlight inside, we might not see what we've really lost."
Odessa stared at his hand. Then at him. Something in her expression softened. Not much, but just enough.
A quiet breath escaped her before the corner of her mouth lifted into the smallest smile. "You've changed. It looks like you’ve gotten bigger."
West looked down at himself. "You think so?" He straightened his shoulders and flexed one arm with exaggerated seriousness. "They’ve really been putting me to work…hard work."
A quiet laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The sound was brief. Rusted from disuse.
But real.
West smirked, seizing on his momentum.
Odessa turned away, hiding the smile almost as quickly as it appeared.
"Broc and Turik deserve the credit. They kept me alive. They made me better." He let the words settle before adding quietly, "I hope you remember what you still have."
At the mention of Broc, Odessa's smile disappeared. "And if I told you..." She kept her back to him. "...that I wanted you to stay instead?"
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West didn't answer immediately. He smiled to himself. Then shook his head.
"No." The answer came so gently it almost sounded apologetic.
Odessa turned, genuine surprise breaking across her face. She thought for a moment. “It’s Tyrus, right? You will continue after him.”
West stepped back. He took a breath. “It’s been quite some time since I even thought about him. I figured if the winter did not claim him, the curse of the Red Dragon will.”
“Good boy,” Odessa said softly.
“And you? Will you seek vengeance for Smoli?” West asked.
“Revenge is the obsession of a warrior without a war,” she snarled. “Smoli meant the world to me! He would want me to see this through. Not go on some hunt for some fool with slippery hands.” Odessa stepped closer to West. “So I ask you again, West. Join us. I pay well, and I believe you can add something to this team that we do not have enough of. Smoli certainly thought so. He was always good at sniffing out useful people.”
A faint smile lingered on West's face before he shook his head. "I mean no disrespect, Captain, but I don't think I have the heart to become what the Blue–"
Before he could say another word, Odessa stepped forward and raised a hand. Her fingertips stopped just short of his face.
West fell silent.
For a long moment, she simply studied him, as though searching for the same young man she'd first dragged aboard her ship. Instead, she found someone different. Someone steadier.
Someone who had finally learned the cost of carrying a blade.
"You think I don't know who you are?" she asked quietly. "You think Turik keeps your conversations to himself? That Pearl's letters tell me nothing except the weather?" She lowered her hand, her expression softening by the smallest amount. "I know exactly what you're capable of."
The room settled into silence again before she continued.
"And more importantly..." Her eyes held his. "I know what you're incapable of."
West frowned.
Odessa walked slowly past him, her attention drifting to the broken shields that still stood beside the shrine.
West looked at the hand stretched out before him, but his thoughts wandered somewhere beyond the walls of the fort.
He thought of Omni. Of the village he had abandoned. Smoli's funeral. Of Broc trying to keep everyone together. Then of Turik, carrying responsibilities he had never wanted. And of Pearl writing letters to a captain who rarely answered them.
Then he looked back at Odessa. "If I stay..." He spoke carefully, weighing every word. "...I won't raise my blade against a civilian."
Odessa gave a single nod.
"Nor against any Evokian soldier." West continued. “Also, I want to help with the rebuilding of Minht”
A puzzled look crossed her face. "Rebuilding?" Odessa asked.
West shrugged. "Every queen needs a city to rule from.”
Another nod from Odessa, without a word to follow. West studied her for another long moment before finally reaching forward. Their hands met. A moment of acknowledgement and understanding.
"Then I'll stay until summer." West firmly gripped Odessa’s hand.
"The Gods bear witness." She replied
West squeezed her forearm before letting go. "And may they testify."
Neither of them spoke after that. The silence no longer felt oppressive. It felt settled.
Odessa straightened almost imperceptibly, rolling her shoulders as though remembering the weight they had once carried with pride instead of grief.
The woman West had followed into impossible battles was still there. She had simply been buried beneath a long and brutal winter.
Her gaze settled on him one final time. "Anything else?"
West tilted his head, pretending to think deeply. "Just…one more question."
She folded her arms, waiting to hear the question.
"If…I happened to court Pearl..."
The captain in her returned so quickly it was almost startling. She pointed toward the door. "Get back to work."
West laughed as he opened the door. "That wasn't a ‘no.’ Right?"
The door closed behind him before Odessa could answer.
For the first time in months, she found herself standing in a room filled with sunlight instead of shadows.
West stepped out into the corridor, closing the heavy door quickly behind him. The sounds of the fort returned all at once: hammers striking timber, men shouting over one another, wagons creaking through the muddy courtyard. After the silence inside Odessa's chambers, the noise almost felt comforting.
He hadn't taken more than a few steps before Broc intercepted him.
"Well!?" he asked, searching West's face before he even finished the question.
West rested a hand over the bulging pouch hidden beneath his coat. "She screwed me."
Broc blinked hard in total disbelief.
West patted the pouch. "And now I'm carrying her child."
Broc rolled his eyes. "She paid you?"
"Very generously!" West said with a wide grin.
Relief washed across Broc's face before he could hide it. "So..." he hesitated. "Was she..." He struggled to find the right word. "You know… Doing better?"
West thought back to the room filled with incense and broken shields. To the sunlight he'd finally allowed inside. "She's getting there."
Broc waited for more.
"She's thinner than I remember," West admitted. "Looks like winter's been harder on her than she'll ever admit. But..." He smiled faintly. "I think spring will do her some good."
Broc grunted. “She’s not taking care of herself properly. I knew Turik was not telling us everything!”
“She’s going to be alright! Mentally, she's still the same sharp captain you remember. Let her grieve a little longer,” West said.
“It has been eight months… She would need more than time,” Broc said, looking away. “Did she say anything about me?”
“Nope,” West responded. “But… You should go talk to her,” He leaned in closer.
“You think so?” Broc turned back to West.
“Yeah, she might like that, she might even need it,” West shrugged.
Broc nodded his head as he thought about the proposition.
Turik appeared from the opposite end of the hall, barking orders at a group hauling lumber. After correcting their mistakes, he finally noticed the two of them.
“You survived!” Turik joked.
“It’s what I do,” West said with a smirk.
“What do you think? She’s getting better, right?” Turik asked, almost unsure.
“Yeah, I think so,” West said.
“I am going to go see her myself. I want to speak with her and make sure she is alright; neither of you know her like I do. She could be putting up an act,” Broc spoke up.
Turik scrunched his face. “Let’s not do that,” he said seriously.
“Why not?” West asked.
“Yeah… Why not?” Broc echoed the sentiment.
“Because she’s still mad at you. Every time I bring your name up, she threatens to throw something at me! Just let her come around, you know how women are,” Turik tried to explain, but it only served to upset Broc even more.
“How often do you bring my name up to her?” Broc asked.
“Every day when I give her the daily report,” Turik looked at West with an expression of honesty.
“Come to think of it, she had a negative reaction when I brought your name up as well,” West shrugged.
Broc took a second to comb through his thoughts.
“Love or hate. It sounds like she's still emotionally invested in you. Take it as a win,” West said, hoping to comfort the forsaken giant.
“You think so?” Broc turned to West.
“I know so,” West said confidently.
The answer seemed to lift something from Broc's chest.
“Go gather your soldiers Broc” Turik said flatly.
Broc nodded to the two men before making his way toward another work crew struggling to position a massive support beam.
Neither West nor Turik spoke until Broc was well out of earshot. The laughter faded with him.
Turik watched to make certain Broc couldn't overhear, then turned back to West. "Now. Tell me the truth."
West met his eyes.
"How bad is it?" Turik asked as he took a deep breath. “Tell me the truth… Has…she lost it? What do you really think?” Turik leaned closer to West.
“She's coming around, it seems, but she’s also talking about something big. I don't think she should be planning anything after the reckless gamble that she took for Minht. This turned out to be a terrible move all around,” West said.
“Yeah? Yeah…” Turik took it in, his gaze looking forward towards nothing. “She wants to plan an invasion of the Eastern city of Pennyroyal. That’s an Evokian city, not an occupied one. Just happens to be the closest city. That's a big declaration, but she has been made aware of the supply run that we went through. It’s almost inevitable… We need to sack the city for as many resources as we can.” Turik let out an exhale.
“What about Minht?” West asked, trying to mask his growing unease.
“What about it? We already dried it up. We need to keep pushing forward.” Turik said without a second thought. “Damn woman! She'd better start showing her face around here. That’s not an order I think I will be able to give, they’ll mutiny.” Turik took an exhale. “ Anyways, good talk, kid. I have to go to the morning rally. We will speak again around lunchtime,” Turik turned slightly and began to think about his speech.
“She could be allowing her emotions to cloud her judgment. Attacking an Evokian city is not going to fare well with the empire! I don't think she is ready for that war.” West said nervously.
Turik took a wide exhale. “Odessa has been preparing for that war since she was a child. It’s us who are not ready,” he said as he began to shake his head faster. “But dammit! We will be! I will make sure every single one of these men is fully prepared!” Turik turned fully away from West and paced quickly towards the center of where all the men had gathered into groups.
Turik climbed onto the weathered crates they had begun using as a makeshift stage. He raised a hand. The conversations gradually died away.
"EYES UP!"
The last few voices disappeared.
Turik scanned the crowd before speaking.
He looked toward the eastern sky where pale light spilled over the broken rooftops of Minht. "Eight months ago, we marched into this city expecting a grand battle."
A few veterans laughed. "Instead..." He gestured toward the half-rebuilt walls surrounding them. "...we fought winter itself!" More laughter rippled through the crowd. "The Evokians thought they could beat us, but they were wrong!"
Several men answered with jeers. "The Gods sent blizzards." Someone shouted back. "They sent hunger." Another voice cursed the Frostlands. "They sent sickness." Turik nodded.
“But we are still here, stronger than ever” Turik pointed towards the east. “The promised glory awaits us, but first we must work, bring back the life that once covered these plains, the animals, the plants and vegetation. Pick up a shovel brothers, the new sun has risen” Turik began to clap alongside his men who were now fired up and ready to take on the days tasks.
West remained where he stood, watching the Blue Hearts scatter across Minht like blood oozing out of a fresh wound. Beside him, Broc smiled with quiet admiration. West did not. He knew where the light was pointing.
East.
Toward an empire that was already making preparations for Odessa's raging Blue Heart.