Third POV
A year had passed since the flogging.
The Iron Fang Sect's slave camp hadn't grown kinder — it never would — but the jagged edge of danger had dulled for Elias. The disciple who'd once set his eyes on Lydia had been sent away on a long sect mission. Word was, he wouldn't be back until the snows melted. Lydia had been left alone since.
It wasn't peace. Peace didn't exist here. But it was… tolerable.
First POV
I stopped expecting to wake up to screams. I learned the rhythms of work and the small freedoms that came in the cracks between orders. And somewhere along the way, Tyrek started talking to me more.
Not that he'd admit it. He never said "friend." He just started sitting next to me when we ate. Or throwing me a sly look when he slipped past a guard without getting caught.
"You're still too easy to read," he'd say. "One of these days, you'll have to learn how to hide your tells."
"Why?" I'd ask. "Planning to rob me?"
He'd grin. "If you ever get something worth stealing, you'll be the first to know."
And I think, in his own way, that was his version of trust.
Third POV
That night, the snow was falling hard enough to turn the camp into a pale blur under the moonlight. The cold slid through the cracks in the walls, biting at fingers and ears.
The slaves were crammed into the long barrack — a low building with rough plank walls and no real insulation. Bodies huddled together for warmth.
Elias was near the corner, with Lydia and Sam pressed close to keep the chill from settling in their bones. Across from them, Tyrek lounged like a cat that had found the warmest spot in the room, his sharp eyes catching everything.
The cold had everyone restless, too awake to sleep but too tired to talk.
First POV
"Want to hear a story?" I asked.
Sam's eyes lit up instantly. Lydia's smile was small, but real. Around us, a few other slaves shifted closer — pretending they weren't listening, but their ears tilting my way.
I cleared my throat. "Once, there was a boy who could walk anywhere. He wasn't fast. He wasn't strong. But he could take one step… and another… and never stop. No mountain could block him. No river could drown him. No wall could turn him back."
Sam leaned forward. "Anywhere?"
"Anywhere," I said. "He walked across forests so quiet you could hear the trees breathing. He walked on sand so hot it burned his footprints into glass. He even walked on clouds."
That got a scoff from Tyrek. "Clouds? You know how expensive those are? Kid better keep his pockets tight or he'll lose every coin he has before he gets to the next one."
A few of the others chuckled, and I shot Tyrek a glare. "Do you mind? I'm telling a story here."
He held up his hands. "Just looking out for your hero. Can't have him getting swindled by some cloud merchant."
Lydia's voice was quiet but warm. "Let him finish."
First POV
The image came back to me without warning.
Not this frozen barrack, but the warm, orange glow of lanterns in Kyoto. The way the streets curved like they'd been drawn by hand, every roof tiled in quiet elegance. I'd walked those streets alone, my legs weak but still mine, leaning on my cane but refusing to stop.
Then came the Sahara — endless gold under a punishing sun. I'd felt the heat through my shoes, the sweat stinging my eyes, the knowledge that every step took me somewhere new.
And Antarctica — the wind screaming like it wanted to cut me down, the ice so white it hurt to look at. My breath had turned to frost on my scarf, but I'd kept going, because that was all I knew how to do.
I blinked, and the barrack came back into focus.
First POV
"So, the boy walked and walked," I went on. "He didn't always know where he was going. Sometimes, he only knew he couldn't stop. And sometimes, when the road was dark, he'd look up… and see the next cloud waiting for him. And he'd know — if he could just reach it, he'd be okay."
Sam's eyes were shining. Lydia's, too, though she tried to hide it.
Tyrek leaned back against the wall, his grin smaller now. "Sounds like a stubborn fool," he said. But his voice was softer than before.
"Maybe," I said. "But he kept walking anyway."
The room was quiet for a while after that. The snow kept falling outside, muting the world.
And for one night, in that cold, crowded room, it felt like the clouds weren't so far away.