Archive of Our Own ^beta

Punz could still remember a time when he liked snow.

He often didn’t like to think back to before his life at the Central Palace or the meeting of his brothers, his entire childhood a blurry mess of fighting, scrounging and crime. But even within all of that he could still remember the winters, how everything would become quiet and simple, even if just for a little while. The others would grouch that it made stealing more difficult, that less people came onto the streets during winter. He remembered being laughed at by those around him when he collapsed into snow banks to stare up at the white sky above. He ignored them in favor of closing his eyes and letting himself be buried, shut off from the world.

He remembered his winters at the palace best though. He remembered when he and his brothers were young, waking up practically in the middle of the night, waiting for sunrise with bated breath, silently praying for snow. And when it came they would bound over to Sam and Bad, giggling and whispering under their breath, begging their knights to let them off of training just for a day, to play in the snow.

Sam and Bad would always exchange a knowing look, frown and say no, but they always caved when they whipped out the puppy dog eyes. (Though looking back, Punz was pretty sure they weren't actually caving, rather they just made them think they were). Sam would tell them that if they could bring a single, unmelted snowflake back to their knight, they could have the entire week off from training. And of course they would bound off, giggling and yelling about how they were going to win, and their knights would walk off, snickering as they went to sit in the palace’s main library, lighting all of the fireplaces.

Punz and his brothers would spend the entire day playing in the snow, running back and forth through the palace as they attempted to get a snowflake.

Well Punz, Dream and Sapnap ran back and forth while Boomer, Five, and Zach mostly just sat back laughing at them. They always ended up filling their exercise quota for the day and then some. And they would fall into bed, exhausted and grouchy that they had been tricked into work anyway.

But they would always fall for it. Every single time.

When they got a little older they would instead spend their days practicing strategy, setting up elaborate snowball fights with their older brothers.

Dream would always team with Boomer. Sapnap often went with Five, if he wasn’t proudly declaring his “cool loner” status to all of them. Their team usually just ended up messing around anyway. But Punz and Zach were the unstoppable pairing. Zach would take the front, charging in recklessly while Punz snuck around the back silently, spotting his poorly hidden brothers easily before pelting them with snowballs until they begged for mercy.

And he would sit on his makeshift throne of snow, crowning himself King of the Winter while demanding for Sapnap and Dream to get him the best icicles for him to crunch on.

He remembered how they used to scheme with Boomer and Five to pull a coup against him and Zach, the six of them battling it out with icicles until the sun dipped below the horizon.

He remembered going back inside, shivering and rubbing at his numb fingers. The queen would sometimes find him, taking him by the hand and leading him to a small library in the northern part of the palace. They would sit there telling each other stories of winters in their childhood while a fire roared in front of them, sipping tea until he was warm and tired, the exhaustion of the day setting in.

During the worst times at No Man’s Land, Punz often tried to think back to those times back at the palace, the times of joy and happiness. The times of peace and warmth. Punz often wished that he could find the joy and peace in snow once again.

But Boomer and Five were dead.

Zach, Dream and Sapnap were miles away, in questionable safety and suffering horribly. He had gotten enough letters during his time on the Northern Front to know that even if his brothers survived, they might never be the same as they were all those years ago.

It was terrifying to think about the fact that if he managed to survive, he might not be the same.
The queen was far away as well, the whole reason he was out here was to protect her, the king and the crown of Central against the East. Though often he worried that if he joined the many who had died on the battlefield, she would forget, he would just become another nameless knight in her mind.

But at other times he thought that it would be fair. What had he done to earn the queen’s favor? Why should he be remembered in her eyes? He was just a little orphan from a nothing town with a family he would never know. One who could’ve become cruel, who could’ve done horrible things (who had done horrible things, his mind supplied unhelpfully.) to the people of the kingdom he was now sworn to protect with his life, if only fate hadn’t tugged him away. Why should he be remembered, as if he did anything to deserve it?

Punz sighed, digging his bare fingers in the snow to ground himself before replacing his gloves. The thoughts vanished away like a brief puff of smoke as he attempted to refocus. His calculating blue eyes briefly swept across the snowy landscape in front of him, trying to gauge how far they had to run before they were within range of the East’s sight. He had made this plan precise, some could even argue too precise, and yet it never seemed to be enough. “What-ifs” always plagued him. His booted foot tapped against the ground in a nervous rhythm as numbers and strategies flashed through his head, the weight of all the lives he was in charge of pressing down on his mind.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The Central knights were ridiculously outnumbered in this part of No Man’s Land. The Northern knights refused to battle here, murmurs of magic land and spiritual animals keeping them away. Dream would’ve scoffed and said it was bullshit, that it was no excuse to abandon the Central knights to guard this front. Perhaps it was. But there was no convincing them. The nearest solid camp was about seven miles away, so reinforcements would be difficult to find.

It didn’t seem like enough, but a trek like that through an open snowstorm could be a death march.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The two sides always expected each other. Surprises had long ago faded. It was a familiar song and dance by now. Hide in the shallowly dug out trenches until the other side let down their guard. Then attack. Either make it across and slaughter everyone in the trenches or die on the front while your side attempts to retreat.

It was sick. Twisted. But there was no other way. The tundra was too open, too exposed.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Punz hated it. Leaving those who died out in the open, watching helplessly as their flesh was ripped open by the carrion birds that stalked No Man’s Land. Watching as his fellow knights rotted and decayed, or were buried under the mountains of snow.

But he couldn’t save them.

Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t save anyone.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

TAP.

The tapping was getting too loud. His mind was racing too fast. He felt dizzy, suddenly aware of the biting cold that sliced through his furs like butter. It was suffocating.

He was dimly aware of a gentle touch on his arm that tore him from his racing thoughts, and his head whipped to the side. The honey gold eyes of the knight next to him attempted to circumvent the panic. He tried to find the warmth in them. But all he could feel was cold.

“Are you alright, Sir Punz?” Her voice was soft. Too kind. Too light. He tried to push past the images of her face rotted away, eyes glassy and empty as they were picked apart.

Ironically, the images seemed to have the opposite effect of what his mind intended, as they merely steeled his resolve to make sure that would not happen. That could not happen. He took a shaky inhale and focused back out on the land spread before them.

“Of course.” He said coolly, as though saying it would make it true. “Report on the weather.” He tried to make his voice professional, calm and collected. The continuous tapping of his foot was the only sign that he was nervous.

He had to be strong for all of the knights around him. He could break down later, in the safety of solitude.

“The storm is expected to last another hour or two. At least that’s the best prediction.” Her voice matched his, as though the earlier moment didn’t happen. Good. It was better that way.

“And the wind?”

“Blowing west. 52 knots.”

Punz nodded carefully as the knight dipped her head towards him before turning and slipping away, probably back to her post. Punz knew this play was a risky move. Attacking in a winter storm wasn’t uncommon, but often when it got this bad, both sides silently agreed to bunker down until it passed. Storms of this level were downright dangerous.

But the danger could be used. The winds would throw off the archers' arrows. The snow would create low visibility. Hopefully the Eastern knights wouldn’t notice them until they were right on top of them.

All they had to do was make it across the empty expanse between their trenches.
If they could take it, it would be one step closer to closing the front on the North and securing it for the Northern and Central forces. One step closer to home. One step closer to the warmth he craved every night as he lay shivering.

He had to do this.

Just be brave, Punz. His brother’s voices echoed in his mind, those that were already dead and those that could be at any moment. He couldn’t lose this. Not after all they had sacrificed. Not after all the East had done to his kingdom and his family.

He could not lose another family.

He would not lose another family.

He forced his foot to stop tapping, turning to the knight next to him and relaying the order that would seal his fate.

“Move out.”

The Central knights moved silently. Swiftly and close to the ground. Punz had taught them himself. His stealth had always been a marvel back in the palace. Everyone assumed that his knight must have taught him. None of them questioned it. Punz was glad. He wasn’t exactly sure how that conversation would have gone over.

He could barely see through the sheets of snow that fell, the howling winds whipping away the words of the knights next to him. He knew he was surrounded by his knights, his friends, but in the snow, he felt alone. He just had to trust that they knew where they were going.

He had gone over his plan so many times in his head, readying himself for the path in front of him. He knew where to go. He had explained it to his knights just as much. He could trust them.
He never looked down, not even when something beneath his boot crunched like the familiar sound of a bone snapping. He kept his eyes forward and his feet steady. His sword knocked against his hip, replacing the tapping of his feet as a comforting rhythm in his mind.

Despite being covered in layers of fur, the cold snapped at him cruelly, the wind like laughter that he couldn’t escape. He couldn’t feel his hands, his face, his feet.

He had to trust his own body was moving.

Forward and forward and forward.

Just one more step. Then another. Keep moving.

After what felt like hours of unbreaking white, he finally saw a flash of color. His heart leaped with joy and terror. Color meant they must have made it to the other side. Especially when it was the color of the East. But that also meant that the battle was about to begin. His hand instinctively flew to his sword, gripping the hilt viciously.

But then his mind registered that the color, the Eastern knight, was alone. A single droplet of green against the snow. Through the pelting snow, the Eastern knight's eyes locked with his. They narrowed as a terrifying sneer cut across his chiseled face. Punz thought he yelled something. But the wind threw his words to the side. Then the knight knelt down, his green cloak billowing. He did something on the ground.

Then, silence.

Nothing. But the Eastern knight stood triumphantly, the curled expression still prominent on his face. Punz was close enough now that he could hear the words the Eastern knight screamed his way.

“Your eyes are blind to the injustices of your kingdom! But the ravens will feast and the East will have its vengeance!”

The knight stepped back with a grin, seemingly finished with whatever he was doing. Punz could see the East’s trench now, between the painted white landscape. They were so close. So close.
Then Punz heard it. The hiss of redstone as it was lit, the rumbling below him.

The hissing became louder, filling his entire mind with horrified realization. The puzzle pieces fitted together instantly, strings attaching within a second. They weren’t the only ones who used the storm to hide their true intentions.

He turned towards where he thought his knights were, praying that they were close enough to hear him. He pulled together all his strength and pushed away the panic that climbed into his throat.

“EVERYBODY MOVE!”

Then the world exploded.

He could hear screaming from all directions pounding in his head, heavy cracking like glaciers shattering overwhelming his mind. Something was breaking. He was thrown off balance, the ground seemingly rumbling, splitting and shifting. He couldn’t see, the entire world coated in white and brown and black and red.

His entire body shrieked with terror and pain as he was thrown violently into the air. But he never hit the ground. He was falling. He could see the occasionally flurry of blue or green, but it vanished so quickly he thought he imagined it.

He was tumbling, his own heavy furs hitting him in the face. He was pretty sure he was screaming, but it could have been anyone. It could have been his own mind.

Without warning, Punz hit the ground. Pain exploded in his side, tearing through his body like a thousand knives. And within an instant, the screaming, the colors, the terror and the pain were gone as everything dropped away.

-

“They’re fucking idiots, that’s what they are. Didn’t even think to check for goddamn caves before-”

-

“Bombs are a cowardly man’s weapon. And they didn’t even do it right.”

-

“-know that Eastern knight. Horrible man. If he kills my little brother I swear he will regret the day he was b-”

-

“-least it took down half of them as well. I hope that Eastern knight freezes to-”

-

“-can’t believe I got killed by those morons.”

-

“He’s not waking up Five. I’m getting a little-”

-

“Come on Punz. You can do-”

-

“Wake up, little brother. Please.”

-

The first thing Punz registered was the cold. Everything was dark. Everything was silent.
He wasn’t even sure if the cold was real. Everything felt so distant, like he wasn’t even in his body.

Maybe that was better. He didn’t really feel like being cold right now.

But wait. No wait . . . he was cold. He could feel it pulsing steadily through him, coating his veins and freezing his mind. His fingertips felt coated in ice, a howling wind hitting his face.
When he imagined warmth, it never was this real.

Did that mean that this was real? He tried to open his eyes, but stopped when a spike of pain shot through his skull. Whatever muffled sounds surrounded him abruptly stopped, leaving in their wake a stifled silence that still wasn’t quite silent.

He sat for a few more seconds. Hours? Days? He was content to just rest. But whatever was around him seemed to have other plans. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ice around his mind began to fracture, began to fall away.

The muffled sounds began clearer. Words began to form.

“-my god! FIVE. Did you see that, his eye twitched!”

“Punz! Punz, come on I know you can’t hear us but please get up.”

Punz felt his brows furrow as he continued to chip away at the ice. Did he recognize those voices? Something in his mind shrieked that he did he did he did he did, but he just couldn’t place it.

They were too familiar to just be fellow knights. He had heard those voices a thousand times before, bubbling with laughter and shrieking with joy. Angry yelling and worried murmurs. Too familiar. Too late too late too late. Too late?

His mind knew something that he didn’t. He was desperately trying to catch up, desperately trying to wade through the snowdrifts clamoring against his thoughts.

“Please. Come back. We know you’re strong. Don’t go this way.” Aw. Why was the voice so sad? What did they have to be sad for? For him? Why should they be sad for him?

“Why are you just standing there, do something idiot!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Anything! Surely there’s something we can do! You’ve been a ghost longer than me Boomer, you must know something.”

“If I did, I would have done it by now! Do you think I want him to die to those assholes and their moronic plans?”

Hmm. Five. Why was that familiar? His fingers curled into the cold against his will, sending another zap of pain shooting up his spine. Five.

“Boomer, I-”

The ice shattered as recognition flooded his veins.

Carefully, he swallowed past the shards of glass that lined his throat. “ . . . Boomer? Five?”

The voices of his brothers went silent, then returned in a flurry, both of them talking over each other like they didn’t need to breathe.

“Punz. Oh my god you’re awake.”

“You can hear us?”

“Can you open your eyes?”

“How much does it hurt?”

“You can hear us?”

“Do you know where you are?”

Punz felt his face twist with pain as the voices bombarded his skull, making the pounding worse. This didn’t make any sense. His brothers were dead. They had been for months now. Was this a dream? Some kind of twisted hallucination? But they sounded so real.

Involuntarily his eyes cracked open, blinding white replacing the peaceful darkness he had been in before. He wanted to close his eyes again, but it seemed that now that his mind registered that indeed his eyes could open, they had no intention of closing again. A face crowded into his vision. Too familiar. Too late too late too late.

“Five?” The face pulled back with a gasp.

“You can see us.” His brother, his dead brother, breathed. Punz tried to turn, tried to find something to remember what had happened. Why everything hurt. Why his brothers were here and looked so terrified. But the moment he moved, pain screamed through him and he let out a choked gasp.

Boomer moved in next to Five, frowning.

“Punz. Where does it hurt?” Punz blinked blurrily up at the faces, pain continuing to lace through him, over and over again. He had been in pain before. Many times before. But never like this. It felt like someone had taken his body and twisted it. He could barely think, darkness clamoring on the edges of his mind. For a moment he let himself sink into it, faux warmth surrounding his body like a strange blanket.

He wanted to be warm right now. He wanted to be home.

But he wasn’t allowed to rest for long, the voices of his brothers (they had to be hallucinations, there were no other options surely) clamoring loudly, pulling him away from the warmth.

“No.” He whispered softly, though it came out as a bit more of a whine than he would have liked. He didn’t want to be cold. He was tired of it. Months trapped in this hell with no end in sight.
Why couldn’t they let him rest for just a second? Even just a second? “Stop.”

At least Five had the decency to sound slightly apologetic, Punz thought grumpily. “Sorry we’re trying to save your life you numbskull, but you can’t leave us right now, okay? Just stay with us a little longer. We can help- I think- but you need to tell us what hurts.”

His brother sounded so scared, so desperate. For a second, Punz hated himself for making him feel that way. The hole that his older brother's deaths had left in him, in their entire family really, has been slowly shrinking over the last seven years, replaced with the anger and need for revenge and retribution that kept him going. But now it returned in full force, the same pain he had felt when he was fifteen, clinging to Sapnap and Dream like his life depended on it. He missed his brothers and even if there was a chance that he was truly speaking to them right now, he wanted to take it.

“Okay.”

His brothers let out a sigh of relief, Boomer suddenly clearing his throat professionally.

“Can you not feel any part of your body?” Punz tried to push away the ice that had begun to clog his brain again, sweeping his focus across his body, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

“My nose.” He said softly. Suddenly Five was practically on top of him, frowning at Punz’s face before glancing back at Boomer.

“Looks like it's just frostbite, though it could be broken as well. Probably not the biggest of our worries.” Boomer nodded.

“Where else?”

“My arm . . . um . . . left hand.”

Five was suddenly moving again, practically passing through Punz’s body as he shifted to the left, which was slightly off-putting.

“Uhhh . . . definitely broken. Looks like you lost your glove too, so probably frostbite.”

“I . . . my right leg and . . . left ankle.”

“Leg looks broken. Ankles probably sprained.”

“It’s hard to breathe.”

“Probably got a broken rib. Not much we can do about that. Just try to breathe shallowly. Is that it?”

Punz frowned, shifting his focus again. His entire right side was screaming with indescribable pain, but it probably was from the broken ribs. Although he had broken a rib before, and though it hurt, the pain was never like it was now. He swallowed, moving his head to glance over at Five.

“My right side hurts. Really bad. Um . . . doesn’t feel like a broken rib.”

Five was silent for a moment, chewing on his lip before nodding.

“Okay. I’m not sure how much energy I’ll have to put in so I can touch you. You seem closer than you’ve ever been before, so it might be easier. I’m going to move your unbroken arm and you're going to help me remove some layers so I can look. Okay?”

Punz closed his eyes, feeling half frozen tears leaking out of them. No. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be more cold. But deep down, he knew he had to. Five had always been the fun brother, the one who teased them relentlessly. If he was being this serious, something must be wrong.

So instead, he nodded. Five shifted and Punz suddenly felt something freezing but solid wrap around his right arm, gently guiding it to his side. Biting back the pain, he slowly began to undo the layers of furs and armor that kept him warm, kept him safe. Five was gently removing his armor, setting the layers to the side without moving his body. He had done it so many times that it was like second nature. He could hear Five and Boomer murmuring to each other as he got to the last layer.

His head was swimming so much that he missed the horrified gasp that tore itself free from his brothers. Both of them were now practically yelling at each other, though their voices sounded more panicked than actually angry.

Punz didn’t want to listen. Didn’t want to know. He was cold. He was so cold.

“Okay . . . okay okay okay.” Boomer was clearly trying to sound calm. It was backfiring. “Don’t panic, but I think you landed on a . . . uh, a very sharp rock. It has almost gone through you. That is actually really bad. Little brother, this could actually . . . actually kill you.”

“Very comforting.” Five’s voice was dry, but underneath it was still laced with panic.

“Here’s the problem.” Boomer began to pace. Punz really wanted to ask him to stop, it was beginning to make him nervous, but the ice shards were back, brought in by the newfound cold.
“You have to move. You’ll freeze to death otherwise, or the Eastern knights will find you and get an easy kill. But if you move . . . you could bleed out.”

“He could tie one of his furs or layers of clothing around it, maybe it will stall the bleeding for a while.”

“Punz, how close is the nearest camp?”

“Uhh . . .” Punz squinted. “About . . . seven miles?”

“That’s not close enough. You’ll bleed out.” After a moment of worried pacing, Five suddenly stopped.

“Boomer. You said it only took down about half of our forces?”

“Yeah.”

“If we move, they might still be close.”

“But the Eastern knights are still blocking the way back out. We’d have to fight past all of that.” “The only other option is to let him bleed out or freeze to death. It’s a risk we have to take.”
If Punz were in any other situation, he’d be furious with his brothers for talking like he wasn’t there, making plans without him. But at the moment he was content to close his eyes and let things drift.

He was just getting comfortable, the warmth beginning to seep back into his skin, but of course Boomer had to start yelling at him again. With it came the cold and the pain.

“Okay Punz. I’m just going to be straightforward with you. You’re going to have to move. We’ll help as much as we can but you’re going to have to pull yourself away. You’re going to block the bleeding with one of your coats. We’re going to move with the others. Five says they’re pinned down in a cave. After that . . . well, we’ll see.”

Punz blinked up at his brother, who was clearly attempting to smile at him, but his eyes betrayed him. Almost sluggishly, Punz blinked at his brother, raising an eyebrow casually.

“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it.” Boomer winced, but nodded. “And there’s a chance that I still might bleed out, correct?” Another nod.

Punz’s gaze shifted carefully from Boomer’s carefully controlled face to Five’s frowning one that wasn’t quite looking over him, but rather, over his shoulder. It seemed too familiar, like he could blink and be a young child again, his brothers crouching over him as he laid on the floor, struggling to breathe for a moment, with Dream yelling that ‘I didn’t mean to hit him that hard, I swear!’ while Sapnap attempted to control his mad giggling. He missed his brothers. He could still remember the first day they had called him their brother, the way they had ruffled his hair with affection.

The way Punz’s mind seemed to get lighter and happier. He couldn’t believe that he finally had a family. That moment had felt like a promise. A promise for forever.

But Punz should’ve known better. The small child in him wanted to believe that they were family now, and family was forever. But standing there, in front of his brother’s graves, Dream’s fingers comfortingly weaving through his hair, Punz came to a realization. Family wasn’t forever. He had lost one family before, and he could lose them again at any moment.

He could try and try, but his family would come apart at the seams and he would be left alone. Again and again.

He didn’t want to be alone.

He turned back to his brother’s ghosts, or the hallucinations. He didn’t know at this point. But right now, he didn’t think it mattered.

“Would you hate me if I gave up?” He said softly, feeling a bit of hair blow into his face. He knew what the answer would be for the rest of his family. Sam would. Dream would. Sapnap would. Zach would.

He’d been taught his entire life to never back down in the face of adversity. To always stand up. To fight until the bitter end.

But did it matter right now? His brothers could be dead at any second. In the blink of an eye they could be gone. Why keep fighting? Why stand up when, in the next battle he could have a sword in his gut? What difference would it make?

Five and Boomer exchanged looks that Punz couldn’t interpret. After a moment, their gazes flicked to whatever was beyond him before returning.

“Oh, little brother, we could never hate you.” Boomer’s voice was soft, quieter than he had ever heard it. “If you want to give in, we would welcome you. This is . . . a lot, for anyone. And if you choose to die right now, it’s not because you’re weak.” Boomer inched a bit closer, his eyes kind. “It’s because you’re human.” Boomer’s expression suddenly became sad. “But please, think of your brothers. Think about Bad and Sam. By joining us, you’ll be leaving them.”

“Why does it matter?” Punz sighed. “They’re going to leave me. Just like you did.”

Boomer’s expression screwed up into a brief expression of pain. “That could be true. But we didn’t have a choice. Your brothers might not have a choice. But you do have a choice. No matter what choice you make, we will love you and stand behind you. But we’ve seen our brothers. We’ve watched Sapnap and Dream and Zach get up and fight whenever they are near the edge. They don’t want to lose you. And they don’t want you to lose them.”

Punz had loved and he had lost. His brothers, Sam, Bad, they had all lost Boomer and Five too. They all had lost family, whether blood or chosen. All felt the gaping hole that threatened to swallow them whole. He loved his family, and he knew that they loved him too. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to put them through that again. Even if it was just for another second, even if tomorrow he would be lost anyway, he wanted to take advantage of his life. He wanted to give that love and to be loved as long as he could.

So he would be strong. He would push through. If not for himself, then for his family. The knights who need him right now.

“Plus, do you really want to let those Eastern knights win? To let them brag for the rest of their lives that they took you down with a poorly placed bomb?”

Okay, that too.

Boomer rolled his eyes with a small half-smile, shaking his head at Five.

“God, don’t start this again.”

Punz let himself enjoy the feeling of his brother’s antics for a heartbeat, before the severity of his situation made itself clear once again. But he had made up his mind.

“Okay.” Boomer and Five’s gaze snapped to him, their eyes wide. “What do I need to do?”

“Brace yourself with your arms. You’re going to need to go up, otherwise it might just tear through you. Once you’re out, it is imperative that you stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. We’ll guide you to the other knights, okay?”

Punz nodded grimly, gently moving his arms so that he could push himself up. His wrist was already screaming in pain, but deep down, he knew it was only going to get worse. He paused, glancing one last time at his brothers. Boomer smiled, putting a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be here the whole time, I promise. You’re strong. You can do this.”

Gently, Punz began to lift himself up and off the rock in his side. Pain hit him like a ton of bricks, slamming into him over and over as he felt the rock exiting his body. Inches felt like miles, seconds like hours as he slowly pulled away. He could hear his brothers whispering soothing words to him, telling him that he was doing so well, that it was almost over. He could feel their ghostly hands every once and a while, attempting to help him from wherever they existed, whether it was his mind or some weird ghostly plane. He could hardly focus on them though. He could hardly breathe, hardly see. Everything was flickering, blackness crowding at the edge of his vision, crowding out the voices of his brothers no matter how much he tried to listen to them. He grit his teeth, trying to focus on his brothers, both dead and alive, imagining them cheering him on. He had no idea how much it actually helped, but at least he wasn’t dead. Yet, at least. Even if he had chosen not to give up, he was still coldly aware of how easily death could still take him. Taking a little too long, shifting a little bit too much, anything could cause him to be snatched away at any second.

But he got through the seconds one by one, relishing each as if it was his last. Knowing it very well could be his last. Finally though, with one last desperate stab of pain, Punz felt the rock’s weight and pressure vanish. Through the haze of pain he collapsed on his left side, needles of cold shooting through his body as his face and ungloved hand buried into the snow below.
He wanted nothing more than to merely stay there forever, sinking into the drifts, closing his eyes and resting. The darkness of death seemed to recognize that, as it returned with a fury. Desperately, he dug his hands into the snow, the bite chasing away the warmth, though the back of his mind mourned the loss.

Home. He wanted to be home.

But this wasn’t home. The warmth was fake, he snapped at his mind as he carefully pushed himself up, grabbing his thickest coat. It’s not real. He wrapped it around his side, tying it as tight as he could manage, ignoring the sharp spikes that shot through him.

Bracing himself against the side of the cave wall, he pulled himself up so he was standing. At this point, Punz stopped trying to keep track of his pain, as now his entire body felt like it had been dunked in ice.

“We’ll lead you to the other knights.” Five’s voice was urgent as he began to walk away, towards the entrance of what looked like a huge cave that had collapsed. Punz took a shallow breath, chased away the lingering darkness and began to follow, with Boomer close behind.

But Punz stopped when he glanced towards the ground briefly and saw what was below him. He carefully turned, his head stopping when his mind registered what surrounded him. It all clicked in his head, why the silence had never quite been silence. The nervous glances that Boomer and Five kept shooting around. He thought he was alone.

Knights surrounded them, some only masses of limbs buried in snow or stone, others sprawled out on the ground like he had been. Mostly blue, though bits of green were scattered in the mix. Some lay still, others lay groaning in half-frozen blood, skin pallor and blue. He was one of them. Punz glanced over at where he had been lying just moments ago, the splatters of blood dying the snow red. A few inches to the left was a pile of stones that looked like it had collapsed.
If he had fallen just a bit to the side, he would’ve been crushed.

Punz swallowed heavily, his eyes flickering back to the knights around him. He led them to this. Punz leaned heavily against the wall, feeling sick straight to his stomach. They were cold too. They were dying. But they didn’t have ghosts, or hallucinations, or whatever they were. They were alone. In their last moments, they were alone. He couldn’t leave them. But what can he do?

“There’s nothing you can do, little knight.” Boomer’s voice was sad as he read Punz’s thoughts.

“I can’t leave them.” Punz’s voice broke, and Boomer winced.

“You have to. For now. When we meet the other knights, you can tell them about those here. But if you don’t move, you will die too, and they will have no one.”

Punz closed his eyes, swallowed back a sob and nodded, turning away from the bodies on the ground and towards the entrance of the cave, where Five was waiting anxiously.

The three were wove through caves, Five muttering under his breath. Punz kept himself steady against the walls. The caves were pitch black and still, looking like they had never been disturbed.

Punz squinted as they passed a crossroads, warning bells flickering in his mind. He could’ve sworn that he saw the faint glow of yellow eyes in the darkness.

Punz felt as though he was getting deja vu, the silent, steady movement reminding him of before the explosion. Before he potentially killed everyone. Punz swallowed past the lump in his throat, shaking his head despite the pain it caused. He couldn’t think about that now. He had to be strong.

Finally, Five turned back to him, his face serious.

“We’ll be with you this whole time. We won’t leave again.” Punz could hear voices. Real, human voices. But neither Five nor Boomer looked worried, so he suspected that they were Central knights.

“Promise?” Boomer and Five exchanged another look.

“We promise, little brother. The knights are just ahead. Keep going.” Punz nodded, taking one step. Then another. Then-

“Who’s there?” The knight's voice was cold, yet there was an underlying terror underneath it. Punz wanted to put his hands up in surrender, or call out to the knight, but at the moment he felt as though he was too weak to do either. So he merely stopped walking, leaning heavily against the wall.

He could see the glint of a sword as the knight stepped closer, brown eyes widening as eyes swept up and down Punz’s ragged body.

“Sir Punz?” The knight's voice cracked with disbelief as he sheathed his sword, rushing forward to collect Punz in his arms, practically holding him up. Punz sank into the man's frigid armor, the relief at being around a real, physical human almost too much to bear. The man began to guide him towards where he had originally come from, practically carrying Punz the whole way.
They entered a small cave, only a single light in the middle, illuminating the space with a flickering glow. The cave was cramped, knights pressing themselves together. Some looked relatively uninjured, like the man carrying him. Some looked worse than Punz himself, bleeding from the head, the stomach. One even had fabric wrapped around her throat.
Their faces all lit up when he walked in, hush whispers bouncing against the cave’s walls. His gaze swept across their faces, trying to put a name to any of them. He only recognized a few, the most injured of the bunch. The rest of them were unfamiliar. They likely were the defense team then, pulled into the collapse when the bombs had gone off.

Punz swallowed past any lingering guilt, attempting to raise his chin and look confident. It must have worked even a little, because a few of the knights snapped to attention, eyes fixed onto him.

“Tell me what happened.” He said carefully. A few of the knights exchanged looks, one eventually stepping forward.

“After the collapse a few of us who were less injured swept the area, collecting all those who survived. But the Eastern knights cut us off from leaving. There is a pile of snow that collapsed from the surface, like a big hill. Beyond attempting to trek the caves, it is the only way out.” She swallowed. “A few tried to navigate the caves, trying to find another way. They haven’t come back. We’re pinned down here until the East has collected themselves. Then they’ll probably come kill us. We can’t fight, they outnumber us two to one, at least.”

Punz’s gaze lingered on each knight, their tired, bloody faces making him shudder. He knew he probably didn’t have that much time left. Suddenly, he remembered Five’s words.

“We’re dead anyway, no? We either all die from starvation or our wounds, or the East comes and kills us all where we stand. There may be another option. There is a force of Central knights just outside the collapse. Most of them have returned to the Northern camp, but some of them have stayed behind to look for survivors. If we can fight past the East, we might just be able to catch them.” A few of the knights exchanged looks.

“How do you know this, Sir?” One of them finally spoke, twisting her hands anxiously. Punz hesitated. He should tell them about Five and Boomer right? But what if his brothers were truly just hallucinations. They might think he was crazy. They would probably listen to him less.

“Um . . . because it’s what Central does. We would never leave behind any of our own if there was a chance that even one of them survived. There has to be at least someone out there, I have to believe that.” A few of the knights still looked nervous, leaning against each other.

“Listen. I can’t guarantee you victory. I can’t guarantee that we won’t all die. But if there is a chance that at least one of us survives, we need to take it. Even if there is no chance we will survive, I choose to fight until my last breath. I choose to die fighting, for all of those who didn’t get the choice.”

The knight who had explained the situation finally, sighed, placing a hand on her waist, where a sword was settled.

“So we go down fighting. Seems like a worthy end.” The other knights began to nod, even some of the injured stood, readying their weapons. Punz nodded towards the woman and she turned, beginning to lead them towards where Punz assumed the exit was.

Most of the knights followed, though a few stayed, probably to protect the very injured knights who couldn’t fight. Punz pushed himself away from the knight carrying him, carefully drawing his own sword with his good hand. They turned a corner and Punz saw light. It was blinding for a second before it settled.

The knights were situated in what looked like a huge crater that had been smashed into the tundra. Entrances to caves had collapsed, some even looked like they had been created by the collapses, the entire system twisting around the crater and vanishing into the piles of snow beyond. Snow and ice covered every inch of the crater, bathing the entire space in a cold white glow. Punz could see the snowdrift that the knight had been talking about, leading like a path all the way back to the surface. But blocking the path to it were billowing green cloaks. Eastern knights.

Their enemy didn’t seem to be in any better shape than the Central knights were, several of them looking as injured. But there was no doubt in Punz’s mind that they were outnumbered. The knight was not kidding when she said that they were more than outnumbered two to one.
As the Central knights exited the cave, Punz felt the eyes of the East lock onto them, listening to the hush, the only noise being the wind blowing. Then, metal scraping as weapons were unsheathed. Punz raised his sword, the rest of the Central knights doing the same next to him.
Punz tried to push every other thought out of his mind.

He tried not to think about how likely it was that he was about to die, whether from an Eastern knight or from his injuries.

How likely it was that he was about to end up like Boomer. This wasn’t just another battle on this part of the front. This was the end. And if, when, the East won, they would no doubt wish to brag and send a warning to the other parts of No Man’s Land.

He tried not to think about his brother’s receiving the news.

About his family having to see his body like that, if they even recovered it at all. If it wasn’t buried in ice and snow first, forever buried by the cold that he despised so much.

He tried not to think about the knights next to him, how he had led them to this fate.

How many others were dead. Who didn’t get the choice like he did.

Why should he get that choice? This was his plan. He had killed so many of them.

He should’ve been stronger.

He should’ve been smarter.

He should have seen the East’s plan coming.

He pushed all other thoughts out of his mind, determined to let himself think about them later.
Clever, considering he was so sure that there would be no later.

Both sides stood at a standstill for a second, waiting for the other side to make the first move. An Eastern knight took the first step forward.

A howl broke through the crisp winter air, loud and piercing.

Then another, overlapping with the first at a slightly higher register.

Another.

And another.

Shit.

Wolves had never been much of a danger to the knights on either side, as they had weapons and fire. The Northern knights had always been . . . odd about the wolves, but Punz wasn’t about to judge. After all, between the fire and the North’s superstitions, he had never had an issue.
But now, they had neither.

The howling of the wolves echoed off the walls terrifyingly, seemingly coming from every direction. Punz whipped around to the cave behind them, his insides shuddering with terror when he spotted the glowing yellow eyes.

A wolf stepped out of the cave, a hulking mass of fur and teeth, lips pulled back in a snarl. Huge paws thumped on the ground as it stalked closer. Knights in front of them, wolves behind them.
If they weren’t dead before, they certainly were now. More wolves stepped out from behind the first, at least twenty more crowding around. The first one crouched, ready to run at them, and Punz raised his sword, unsure of what to do.

The wolf suddenly broke into a run and Punz readied himself for huge teeth to tear into him. He at least hoped it would be fast.

The wolf shot past him, its thick fur brushing against his leg as it ran. The rest followed, tearing off after the first wolf, slipping between the Central knights like they were made of water. Not a single one attacked a Central knight. Punz whipped around, his heart pounding. Screw his broken rib, he gasped for breath desperately, trying to calm himself.

Why hadn’t the wolves attacked him? He wasn’t much of a threat, and it wasn’t as if the wolf looked scared. It had looked ready to kill.

So why hadn’t it?

He tracked the pack of wolves with his eyes, watching as they sprinted towards the Eastern knights. Perhaps the wolves were just looking to escape. Having a cave collapse on them was probably terrifying.

But all of Punz’s theories flew out the window when the lead wolf leapt at one of the Eastern knights, maw tearing into the man violently. The rest of the wolves followed, knocking back the enemy knights, tearing at their throats, ripping at their ankles.

The Central knights stood in shock, grips on their weapons loosening. Punz couldn’t believe his eyes. Were the wolves going after the East because they were a bigger threat? Were they going to turn on Central?

DON’T WAIT TO FIND OUT, his mind was screaming at him. Punz managed to shake himself back to reality, nudging the knight next to him. The wolves were distracting the Eastern knights. They might not be outnumbered, if they took advantage of the East’s plight. They might not die.

They could make it out of this.

“Everybody move!” He yelled. The other knights snapped back to attention at his voice, and, as one, they rushed forward. Punz’s leg was shrieking with agony and his side was numb and the cold was biting at his hands but he couldn’t feel it.

He dove into battle.

Everything came naturally to him. He had been fighting his entire life. It started with fists slamming into young faces, biting and kicking and pulling at hair behind shops or in alleys. Then it turned into knives, gangs facing off, blood slipping turning his skin red. Then staffs, precise hits in unison with the other squires. Staffs turned to swords. The first time he laid his hands on a sword he vowed to never let it go again. He knew that his brothers preferred different weapons, but he knew that he would always prefer his sword. Sharp and dangerous like the knives he used in his youth, yet light and precise. Perfect for a stealth fighter like him.

Punz dodged a hit from one of the Eastern knight's axes, swinging up and catching the man in the throat with his sword. He whipped around and clashed with another, letting himself settle into the familiarity of the situation. It was just another battle against another nameless knight he would never know. But nonetheless, he kept a cool head and attempted to focus.

Punz never let himself lose control while fighting. He could never afford to. While Punz was physically strong, he more often than not relied on his quick thinking and wits to solve situations rather than straight brutality. But keeping himself under control and keeping his mind in check never was easy. Especially after Boomer and Five died, he often felt tempted to sink into anger and pain while fighting. It would make things so much easier, he knew that. He wouldn’t have to see the faces of the people he fought and killed. It wouldn’t have to feel personal.

But he always controlled himself, kept himself carefully reined in.

I will never let you forget, his mind often whispered during battles.

But here, his mind clouded by pain and grief and guilt, Punz let himself sink, even if just a little. He kept his head just below the surface, ready to escape at any time. The swing of his sword, the tearing of flesh with sharp teeth, the screams of knights and howls of wolves began to blur, becoming a single snow-white haze. The two sides fought for what felt like hours, both unable to push the others back. But this was different from the battles on No Man’s Land. There were rock piles and caves to hide in, places to sneak up behind the enemy, nooks and crannies to hide in, firing arrows left, right and sideways.

It felt disturbingly familiar to the snowball fights that Punz and his brothers would have in their youth. Except this time there was no tomorrow if you were hit by a snowball or slashed with an icicle. This time it was win or die.

And though Punz was prepared to die, he had every intention to win, just like he did when he was young.

The final Eastern knights fell with a thump, their green cloak fluttering to the ground like a fallen feather. Punz stopped, allowing himself a second to breathe, ignoring the pinch of pain in his chest, sheathing his bloodied sword. The white faded and colors began to return. Blue and red coated the landscape.

It was a strange sight to see. Blue-clad, blood soaked knights clung to each other, a few of them crying softly. Wolves stalked between the fallen bodies, heads low, gore dripping from their maws. But they still didn’t attack, their yellow eyes fixed on the dead knights on the ground.
Punz glanced up at the snow drift in front of him. It was a straight shot. Perhaps it wouldn’t be for long, but for now they could leave.

He took one final glance at the crater, at the blue and green bodies on the ground, some already half-covered with snow. He swallowed, turning away from glassy honey gold eyes.
“If you have the strength,” His voice was quiet but firm. “take as many bodies as you can. I refuse to leave them behind. And through the caves, there are more dead knights. Perhaps some that are still alive. It’s . . .”

“Two lefts, four rights and then another left.” A voice whispered softly.

“Two lefts, four rights and another left.” He repeated, pointing towards the cave’s entrance. “Please, don’t leave them.”

The uninjured knights nodded, several spreading out to gather bodies in their arms, using the cloaks to cover their faces out of respect, others returning to the cave for the injured and the bodies that lay beyond, whispering the directions under their breaths.

The remaining knights slowly began to make their way up the snowdrift. Each footstep sent painful tremors through Punz’s body, but he still felt numb, running off adrenaline and whatever else his body could pick up. The rest of the knights were following, a few of them murmuring nervously.

Punz didn’t know why, until he glanced back and noticed that the entire wolf pack seemed to be following them, eyes curiously fixed onto his. They didn’t attack, didn’t even approach any of the knights. They just followed, like silent shadows drifting across the snow, as if they hadn’t ripped apart Eastern knights only a few moments ago. Punz blinked a few times before shaking his head and turning back to the snow in front of him.

He really wanted to be worried. But if the wolves were going to attack, surely they would’ve by now, right?

Who knows, maybe the North was on the right track with their superstitions.

God, if only Dream could see this. Punz could almost laugh at the imaginary look on his brother’s face as he attempted to come up with an explanation for the wolves. Hell, maybe even an explanation for Boomer and Five.

As Punz reached the top of the crater, his feet landing on solid ground again, he felt his eyes droop, his movements getting slower and more sluggish. Uh oh. Whatever was keeping him going was wearing off fast. He felt himself list slightly to the right, darkness clamoring for space at the edges of his vision. He just wanted to rest. To sink into warmth and fall asleep. He wanted to be home.

His body landed on something warm and fuzzy. At first he thought it was a knight, but then the fur seemed to rumble. Punz forced his eyes to open wider, glancing down. He was met with the wild eyes of a wolf. Punz would’ve jerked back if he had the strength. Punz had practically collapsed on a wild Northern wolf, and yet the animal looked barely fazed. It smelled of blood, the scent overwhelming Punz’s senses as it gently used its nose to push Punz into the arms of a knight before trotting away. Punz could’ve sworn he saw its tail wag as it walked away. The wolf pack was practically surrounding them now, like a protective barrier.

Suddenly, shouting and screaming filled Punz’s ears. He tried to jerk back to attention, get his muscles to move, but they stayed heavy. Were they being attacked? Was it the East? The wolves? Were people hurt? He had to help. He had-

“Don’t worry Sir.” The knight holding Punz must’ve noticed his shift in demeanor, because he spoke softly. “You were right. We spotted a group of Central knights. They have healers with them.”

The next few seconds, minutes?, hours?, were a flurry of voices and movements. Punz could barely follow any of it, sinking into whatever knight he was thrusted into the arms of next. He felt himself coughing, which most certainly did not help the pain in his chest. And then there was something being pressed against his lips, some light and almost fizzy slipping down his throat.
He was fading, and fast. Though the darkness lacked the warmth that had come with death before. Whatever, he would take it.

The last thing Punz heard before he drifted off was Boomer’s voice softly whispering, “Good job little brother. You can rest now.”

-

Everything hurt.

Fuck, everything hurt.

It hurt in a different way than when he woke up last though. Before it was the sharp, beating pain of ice flowing through his veins. Now he just felt exhausted, like his body was being weighed down. Every twitch of his muscles, every slight movement sent waves of pressure running through his limbs.

He was still cold though. That hadn’t changed.

Punz cracked his eyes open, half expecting to see the pure white of snow or the pale blue of the sky he had previously woken up to, blinking furiously a few times when he realized that his scenery had changed.

He appeared to be laying in a tent, the thick canvas sturdy against the wind Punz could hear outside, the edges nailed down into the frozen ground. It was an off white, almost tan color, small patches fixing up the places where high winds or hail had likely torn into the canvas. Punz was alone, almost stifling with how silent it was. He shifted from where he was laying, glancing back up at the ceiling. Shadows danced on the walls, dipping and twirling like some kind of twisted version of a battle. He glanced around for the source, startled when he spotted a small fire only a few feet away from him.

Strange, he hadn’t even noticed the fire’s warmth. He managed to turn his body towards it, gritting his teeth at the sparks of pain that shot through him. Not as bad as he was expecting however. His mind flashed to whatever had been forced down his throat before he passed out. Probably a healing potion then.

Despite the fact that his face was now in full view of the flames, he still felt cold. If anything, he felt colder than he had before. Chewing on his lip anxiously, Punz managed to move his arm, fingers crawling through the air towards the fire.

Nothing. His hand remained stubbornly cold and numb.

That was . . . worrying.

Punz swallowed past the panic that was beginning to surface, trying to keep his breathing even and shallow. It’s fine. It’s fine. He continued to move his hand until little pinpricks began to dig into his fingers.

They still weren’t warm. Punz was in full panic mode now, moving his fingers desperately, as if he could magically make the fire warm his fingers. No no no no, this couldn’t be happening. The warmth, the comfort of fire had been one of the only things keeping him sane during his time in the North. That couldn’t be taken from him now. Why wasn’t it working? Why couldn’t he feel it?

“Please. Please please please.” His voice cracked with desperation, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and beginning to slip over the edges. He was tired of being cold, tired of being empty and lonely. He just wanted to be warm, to be comforted.

In one last moment of desperation, Punz shoved his hand into the fire. Sharp pains exploded throughout his hand, his nerves screaming with agony and fear. There was no heat. But despite that, he grit his teeth and kept it there, determined not to move it until he could feel warm again.

The world had already taken so much from him.

The world had taken his first family.

Any hopes of a peaceful childhood.

His brothers.

His safety and his happiness.

His friends.

The knights he had promised to protect.

Knights he now had to watch be buried, forever knowing that it was his fault.

Knights he couldn’t save, couldn’t comfort.

All because he was stupid enough to think he could outplay the East like he could his brothers.

All because he was naive enough to think that they would play fair.

All because he was selfish enough to want to go home. To think he could go home. To think he deserved comfort. To think he deserved warmth.

Now they would never return home. They died in pain. They died cold. All because of him.

“Sir Punz, are you- holy fuck. Hey! Hey hey hey hey!” Rough hands suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from the fire, holding it above his head. A face suddenly entered his vision, glaring at him furiously. “What the fuck. You better start explaining. I do not want Kaya to come in to see your hand burned to a crisp. I don’t . . .” The knight trailed off when Punz didn’t move, perhaps seeing something on his face. “Sir, are you alright?” Punz didn’t move. He didn’t think he could even if he wanted to. He felt numb all over, like his nerves had been frozen.
All he could manage was a whisper. “It’s so cold.”

The knight paused, gently letting go of Punz’s wrist. There was a long moment of silence, and then carefully, ever so carefully, the knight wrapped his arms around Punz, cautious of the injuries Punz knew covered his body.

And Punz broke.

He curled himself as carefully as he could around the knight, burying his face into the man’s shoulder. The tears he had been holding back streamed down his face as he cried. As he mourned. Despite probably having places to be and others to attend to, the knight never rushed Punz. He didn’t even speak, just holding him gently. Punz remained cold, but for the first time in months, he felt comforted. Not quite safe, but it was closer.

Eventually, his tears ran dry and exhaustion settled in its place, pulling him down once again. He curled his fingers into the knight’s cloak, pulling his face away. The knight smiled down at him.
“Feeling better?” He asked softly. Punz wordlessly shook his head, but nonetheless pulled away, attempting to wrap his arm around himself before stopping with a wince. He glanced down at his hand. Oh right.

As if a broken wrist wasn’t bad enough, his whole hand was now a mess of blisters and burns. The knight sighed, standing and moving over to the corner, where there were likely supplies.
“Not often we need burn kits in the arctic.” He mumbled. Punz wanted to apologize, but he still felt numb. So he merely turned his body away from the fire and cradled his hand.
“Many of the knights at camp are calling you a hero. Titles are already being thrown around, though I don’t think any have stuck yet.” The knight chuckled. Punz did not. He merely stuck out his hand as the knight began to apply some kind of cream to it before wrapping it in bandages.
He then handed Punz a small bottle, likely a healing potion.

“Drink.” Punz didn’t have the energy to fight back, so he did. Should’ve used it on someone else, his mind mumbled what his voice could not say.

“I was sent here to check if you were awake and catch you up in case you wanted to know what’s been happening. We know you don’t like being out of the loop.” The knight snorted humorously.
Punz did not. He nodded before fixing his gaze on the ground.

“You’ve been asleep for three days. We were beginning to worry that you wouldn’t wake up, but Kaya said it was just because you were exhausted. You were basically running on pure adrenaline and after it faded, your body couldn’t handle it plus all the other injuries you sustained.”

Three days. Punz closed his eyes, fighting back another wave of tears. He nodded again.
“Out of everyone who got trapped in the ravine, a little less than half made it out. We’ve counted, and we’re missing . . . many of the bodies. But we could have lost so many more if you had not told the knights where to find some of the bodies, or if you had not convinced them to fight. After the battle in the ravine, much of the East’s forces were destroyed or disoriented. Many of them retreated, the rest we took down. This part of the front is secure. We have an advantageous position for future battles.” The knight leaned forward, his eyes boring holes into Punz’s skull. “You saved so many, Punz. Remember that.”

I killed so many more, his mind whispered. He could not say it, so he merely buried his head in his hands. The knight sat across from Punz, who peered at him carefully through his fingers. The man leaned back on his hands, as though they were having some kind of casual conversation.
“We sent word of what happened to your brothers and your knight. So far, we think it’s only reached one. Uhhh . . . he’s the one that’s also up North. Not sure of his name.”

“Zach.” Punz’s voice was quiet. His hands dropped to his lap, fiddling with the bandages that wrapped his burns. The knight seemed delighted that Punz had spoken, a small smile on his face as he continued.

“Apparently the moment Zach heard, he tried to head to this camp. But the knight in charge said that he would never make it on his own, and that they weren’t relocating. They still had to stop him from sneaking out in the middle of the knight. I guess he should be lucky the knight had a brother of his own and understood.”

The man in front of him laughed. Punz did not.

“Um . . . what else?” The knight rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment, before he suddenly started, his eyes widening. “Oh! Uh, there’s one more thing. Hold on, I have to check in with Kaya first. I’ll be right back, I promise.” The man stood, scrambling as he rushed for the door. He paused as he was untying the flap, glancing back at Punz. “I’ll only be a second.” His eyes flickered over to the fire. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

No promises, Punz wanted to joke. He stayed silent, nodding once before turning away. There was a sweep of ice as the man opened the flap that made Punz want to cry again, and then he was gone. But the cold that had come in remained, sticking to him, suffocating him.

He watched the fire dance for a moment before he could not stand it any longer and turned away, wishing he could curl up and disappear like he used to when he was young. But his right leg and left ankle were wrapped tightly with bandages so he couldn’t bend them.

So he was forced to sit. The silence stretched long, tension building in the air like smoke until he was forced to breathe, to break it.

“Boomer?” He glanced around the tent, watching for any signs of his brothers. “Five? You promised.” He managed to fold his left leg underneath him, pillowing his head in his arms. “I don’t know what to do. It’s so cold it hurts. I can’t breathe. I can’t feel. It’s . . . it’s like when you left, except now it's real.” He buried his head in his arms, closing his eyes and reveling in the darkness. “I’m scared.” He admitted. “I’m scared that I’m not what everyone wants me to be. Did you hear? They’re already calling me a hero, only days after so many of us died. Hero’s save people. I didn’t save anyone. The wolves did. The other knights did. All I did was lead people to die.” Punz blinked furiously, rubbing at his eyes. “Are you here? Can you talk to me?”

Nothing.

The tent was silent and still.

“Of course not.” Punz laughed bitterly. Of course they weren’t real. They were probably just hallucinations his mind conjured up to say whatever he needed to hear to get him to live. Nothing more. Punz didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And yet . . . and yet, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

Nonetheless, the ghosts or hallucinations or whatever weren’t answering. He was well and truly alone.

He didn’t know how long he sat, frozen in time, his mind numb, before the knight was back, gently touching his shoulder to bring him out of the state. The knight sat, smiling nervously.
“So . . . uh, there is one more thing that I wanted to tell you. So the wolves, the ones that attacked the Eastern knights, right?” The man paused and Punz nodded. “Well, they are still here.”
Now that was a bit surprising. Punz raised an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously.
“They’ve been sitting outside the camp for three days. They haven’t even left to eat. They haven’t touched anyone or done anything. They growl and get defensive when approached, but it's never more than that. We tried to chase them away, but some of the Northern knights kind of freaked out when we did, so we stopped.” The man paused, giving Punz a side eye that he couldn’t interpret. “They seem to be . . . waiting for something.” His next words came out in a rush. “You . . . one of the wolves helped you when you were fainting, right?” A nod. The knight stared beyond Punz’s shoulder thoughtfully. “After you passed out, some of them even followed after the knights who were carrying you, only re-joining the rest of the pack when you disappeared into the tent.”

“So.” Punz had an idea of where this was going, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
“We think they’re waiting for . . . well, for you.”

“Why?” The knight shrugged.

“I don’t know, the Northerners are the superstitious ones.” He paused. “Do you want to see them? They might leave. If you feel up to it of course. Kaya said it could swing either way.” Punz certainly did not feel up to it, but he couldn’t deny the small part of his brain that was itching with curiosity. What if the wolves were waiting for him? What did they want? Food? Certainly anyone in camp could have given it to them, no? But Punz had nothing else to offer.

Nonetheless, he nodded. The man hesitated for a second.

“Kaya said that your leg is still bad, and that putting weight on it could make things a lot worse. I might have to carry you, if you’re okay with that.” Punz blinked at the man for a moment, before shrugging. The knight moved quickly and almost awkwardly, scooping Punz up into a loose bridal carry. Punz was sure he looked ridiculous, with his right leg still unable to bend. The man was also huge, so Punz probably was tiny in his arms.

If it were any other time Punz would have dropped dead from embarrassment. But now, he tucked his head into the man’s shoulder, curling into him further when he felt a heavy blanket and fur cloak being draped over him.

“Sorry. We’ll get you more layers later. It’s not too bad now though, so you should be okay.” Punz didn’t care. He was already cold. How much worse could it get?

As they stepped out of the tent, Punz decided that evidently it could get a lot worse. Cold wind seeped into his skin, poking and prodding at him. It was as if he didn’t have any blankets on at all, for all they helped. The wind cut straight through.

They walked through the camp slowly and carefully, weaving through tents and knights who stopped and stared at him with wide eyes, whispers that they probably thought he couldn’t hear worming their way into his ears. He tried to tune them out. He was too tired.

It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the camp that Punz felt himself focus. Sitting just outside the stamped down circle of snow and tents that made up the armies camp, were the wolves that had saved them. There were at least twenty of them, the biggest pack Punz had ever seen, some still with dried blood on their snouts and paws. A few of the ones near the front perked up when he approached, tilting their heads curiously. Punz could sense the gazes of the knights who had gathered to watch, but he couldn’t look back, transfixed by the sharp, almost intelligent yellow gaze of the wolves.

The one in the front, probably their leader, let out a small whine when Punz got closer, the noise low and almost mournful. Shivers ran up Punz’s spine, for once having nothing to do with the cold. The expression of the pack was so clear, almost as if they understood what was happening.

Punz took a deep breath, regretting it as frozen air filled his lungs.

“Put me down.” He whispered softly to the knight holding him.

“But-”

“Please.”

The knight hesitated, shifting on his feet for a few moments before he finally bent down, setting Punz carefully into the snow before backing away, one hand on the knife at his belt. Punz was now eye to eye with the wolves, suddenly aware of the vulnerable position he was in. But he pushed it away, a strange connection, a single thread telling him to trust the wolves.

Punz put out his hand. The movement was slow, deliberate so as not to startle the hulking beasts that stood before him. The wolves did not even flinch, blinking their golden eyes at him. The leader took a step forward, then another, his gaze never leaving Punz’s, as if testing him.

Soon, the wolf's nose was only an inch or two away from Punz’s hand. But Punz felt no fear as the wolf gently pressed its enormous head into his palm.

Its fur was probably warm as it surrounded his hand, but he had no way of knowing. He felt a slight rumble as the wolf breathed, Punz’s heartbeat slowing as he let himself relax just slightly.
After a long moment of silence, Punz spoke, his words slow and deliberate (as though the wolf could actually understand, a tiny voice that sounded a lot like Dream scoffed in his head).
“Thank you for saving us.” He said, keeping his hand still on the wolf’s head. “The Compass, the Central Kingdom, will not forget what you have done for us. If you wish, you may leave now.”
He pulled his hand back, gesturing for the knight to pick him back up again.

The wolf’s eyes followed him the entire time. Suddenly, the wolf’s ears twitched and it dipped its head for a moment, pawing at the ground. Punz dared a smile, unconsciously nodding back towards the wolf.

He pretended not to hear the sharp inhale from the knight carrying him as the pack stood, shaking snow from their bodies and began to bolt away, the leader shooting Punz one last look before they vanished into the snowdrifts beyond like silent shadows.

Punz swallowed as the man turned towards the camp, tugging on his sleep and whispering to him to wait for a moment. Punz swallowed, trying to bring back some old bravado as he cleared his throat and raised his chin, trying to show some kind of confidence despite the mental turmoil ripping his mind open, as well as the physical condition that left him to be carried around like some kind of child.

“From this moment on,” He projected his voice to the crowd of knights that had watched the scene with the wolves, attempting to meet some of their eyes. “As long as I and the Central Kingdom live, any Central knight who is caught or reported to have killed or injured a Northern wolf in a manner that is not indisputably self-defense will answer to both me and the Central crown. Do you understand?” He fell silent, waiting, daring any of the knights to step forward an object. None did, their wide eyes fixed on him like he was some kind of alien.

Punz wasn’t actually sure if he had the authority to make that claim but fuck it. He could write a letter to the queen, and if that didn’t work, he was sure he could get Dream to strong-arm George into talking with his parents.

Those wolves had saved all their lives, they deserved to be recognized and protected for it.
“Take me back to the tent.” His voice was hollow. The walk back to the tent was empty. He could barely hear as the knight bid him goodbye and departed.

Punz laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. There were so many things he wanted to do, so many things he had to do, but exhaustion was tugging at him like an annoying mosquito that just wouldn’t leave him alone. He knew what he should be feeling right now. He should be feeling joy that he had survived, and that they had taken this part of No Man’s Land, and that so many other knights were alive. He should be furious with the Eastern knights who cheated and failed, so many lives wasted. He should be grieving all who were lost.

But in the end, Punz felt nothing. He turned towards the fire once again, ignoring the spikes of pain that shot through him. He wanted to try again, to put his hand close to the fire and hope that he could feel it. Perhaps the first time was just a one-off incident that would be resolved.
But Punz knew the truth. He was perhaps a foot or two away from the fire, and he felt nothing.
He felt nothing.

Punz closed his eyes, missing the brief flicker of familiar grieving faces that flashed before disappearing. The slip into darkness this time wasn’t violent. It wasn’t sudden. Punz merely let go, letting himself float away, sinking to the bottom of the ocean as he peacefully drowned.

He dreamt of a palace. A palace that was once a place of life and joy now dark and cold, like a winter storm has blown through it, snuffing the lights.

He dreamt of a library. A library that was full of empty shelves, the last few torn pages curling into a lone fire.

He dreamt of a queen. A mother whom he could not feel, who he longed to be close to. Who he wanted to love.

He dreamt of a fire. A fire that, no matter how many books he added, could never warm him again.

He dreamt of a boy. A boy with pale blue eyes who sat in the fire, the flames licking across his pallor skin. The boy burned, weeping frozen tears as snow fell around him.