The group sets up camp near a waterfall that cascades into a pond so clear Nura can watch the fish flit about within. She admires the beauty of it for a moment, taking in the vibrant colours of the trees and the white of the snow. Then she leaves the group, needing to be away from their watchful gazes.

They expect her to break and they're right to think that. She feels as though she's teetering on the edge of a cliff with nothing holding her back.

Nura makes it up the incline beside the waterfall and stands tall at the top, taking a moment to marvel at the strength of her own body. Her new body. Her Elven body.

She shakes her head and continues onward. All she needs is a moment alone, a moment to take a breath and begin to reconcile with what she did.

Nura stops by the rocky edge of the flowing river, her breath blooming in the air. She soaks in the scenery. The green in the trees a vibrant emerald, the icicles that drip water from the branches glistening in the afternoon sun.

She takes it all in, realising that everything is brighter, clearer, louder, because she made a choice to give up her mortality to save her mother, a woman she doesn't even know.

Stretching out her fingers, she stares at her pale skin.

She's lived her entire life in fear of this side of her while being ridiculed for it. And now she's here and she doesn't understand her own body or the bond that constantly whispers to her.

She knows the air is bitingly cold. All throughout this journey she's been bundled in furs and cloaks, now she stands by the edge of a freezing river in nothing but a tunic and trousers.

Nura doesn't even feel the cold anymore.

For whatever reason, that thought is the one that breaks her. It pierces into her chest and reminds her how different she is now. Whoever she once was is gone and she doesn't know how to get that woman back.

Wrapping her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together, Nura weeps. Her tears freeze on her skin, drip from her chin like those icicles from the trees, but still she doesn't feel the cold.

She's immortal. She'll be immortal for decades and that's if she doesn't touch the power now writhing under her skin. She's immortal and her husband isn't.

Like a dam cracking apart, Nura's emotion burst forth from whatever place she'd buried them. She crumbles to her knees, sobs shaking her shoulders, swallowed cries brimming in her chest.

She tried to be strong for Rephas, but now he's going to have to leave her behind. Even if they do manage to save him, how long can Nura watch him age and die without her? She's lost so much already.

That whisper in her ear becomes louder and Nura shoves her hands over her ears, trying to shut it out. She doesn't want it. She doesn't want any of this. She wants to go home.

"Nura," the voice is muffled but Nura still hears it. She glances up as gentle hands take hers away from her ears and she meets the starry eyes of Talon. He kneels with her by the bank of the river and brushes her tears from her cheeks.

"I don't want this," she manages between choked breaths.

"I know." Talon takes her into his arms, carding his fingers through her hair as she weeps.

"I just want to live my life, I don't need an eternity."

"It'll be okay, Nura."

"No!" she shouts, pulling away from his to stare at him. "No, it won't. None of this is going to be okay. How am I going to get him back, Talon?" Her hands fist in his shirt, her face twisting as the pain plunges into her heart like a serrated blade. "How am I going to undo this?"

"We'll find a way."

"You can't just cure immortality." Anger burns in her throat. It dries her tears and she clings to it because she needs something other than this hurt that's trying to drown her. "You can't fix this!" Nura hits him. Her fists slam into his chest and he just takes the blows.

"I know what you're going through, Nura," he says, catching her hands but she shakes her head.

"How can you know? Being immortal is normal for you."

Talon stares at his hands wrapped around hers, his gaze becoming distant. "I didn't choose this either. I was on the wrong side of a war, and cursed because of it." He meets her eye and cups her jaw, his thump wiping away the constant trickle of tears. "We'll find a way out of eternity. Together. I promise you that."

She clings to him and lets herself have this moment of weakness, knowing that this ordeal isn't over. It'll never be over. She's going to have to learn to suffer through it.

The Phantom Teeth Mountains spear into the cloudy sky. Nura stares at the ice-capped mountains in wonder as they near. They cluster far to the north, hugging the ocean, and nestled amongst them is Hold Giem; the jewel of the north.

Drawing in a breath, she straightens her spine and prepares herself to be thrust once more into the world of the Elves. She may be immortal now, but she's still a halfling with flat ears and an outlawed parentage. The White Rose Treaty made it abundantly clear that Nura and her like aren't welcome or wanted.

They travel into the shadows of the mountains, cool wind tugging at the cloak draping over Nura, protecting her more from prying eyes than the cold. She tries to ignore that stray thought, the one that's intent on reminding her that she doesn't feel the cold anymore, that she's now more Elven than she is Human and she belongs on this side of the border.

If Nura learnt anything during the war, it's that someone like her doesn't belong anywhere, a fact she's spent her life trying to deny. She thought she could tell herself she belongs on both sides, but how long could she continue lying to herself?

Giem isn't like the other Holds. Nura has read of its splendour and beauty, but she'd seen so little of the world that her imagination couldn't possibly fathom the sheer opulence of it.

Her eyes are wide as she realises they've entered the city. Buildings have been carved into the mountains, paths wind through them with people streaming in and out of the icy rock.

They pass through walls guarded by Elves in glimmering silver and white, bows strung across their backs. Hooves clopping on the cobble street, their caravan trundles into Giem. Homes are made of glass and pale wood, the tenements clustered close together. Arches and towers send her sights to the sky where the mountains loom, offering protection.

After riding through bustling streets, they reach the stables where they dismount their horses. Nura clings to her cloak, the thick material swaying around her ankles as she turns to Talon. He speaks quietly with Sara, passing her a pouch as she flashes her teeth at him, stark against her dark brown skin. Then she and her caravan of goods disappear into the busy streets.

"Where to now?" Nura questions as Talon approaches.

"Now I need to meet with Yordi," he replies, a strain to his voice that doesn't reassure Nura. The silence that follows further unsettles her.

She glances at Canaan but his lips are pressed together and Elice has a sour look on her face. "Who's Yordi?" Nura dares to ask.

Talon lets out a sigh before answering, "One of the few of us who chose to work for Rólin."

Elice snorts. "And I bet she lives every day regretting that choice. Yordi will help us if she knows what's good for her."

"She'll help us," Talon says, already leaving the stables. "I just worry about what she'll ask for in return." He departs and Nura is left alone with Elice and Canaan.

Nura assists Canaan with their supplies in silence before they too enter the winding streets of Giem, Elice leading the way with her cane tapping against the stone.

Keeping her head lowered, Nura doesn't meet any of the gazes of the Elves they pass. And they pass a lot.

She'll never be one of them, not just because of her Human blood, but because she doesn't want to be. No one should live a hundred lives.

The boarding house Elice leads them to is made of pale brick, tucked beside stacked buildings with clothing hanging on lines between them. They duck inside and Nura manages to take a breath once they're finally off the street.

A patchwork of scuffed tiles layer the floor, made of an assortment of bright colours that are almost dizzying to look at.

"Elicemar!" comes the loud greeting of a man who rounds a counter with his arms outstretched, chestnut hair tumbling to his waist. He enfolds Elice in a tight hug that can't be comfortable, his large arms making Elice seem small. "I haven't seen you since..."

"Since before the war," Elice says, her voice strained. She pats his side. "You're going to crush me, Throndir."

Throndir pulls back and cups Elice's shoulders, dark tattoos winding around his fingers and up his bare arms like ivy around a pale pillar. "Not even a letter," he says with a pout. Sapphire eyes flick to the rest of the group and he tilts his head. "You've brought company. Welcome!"

Elice turns to them, Canaan with a brow raised and Nura with her hands twisting in her cloak. "Throndir is an old friend. I once worked here."

"And practically lived here with the amount of times you ran away from home." He grins at her, fondness in his gaze.

Elice grumbles something under her breath and taps her cane against the tiles. "Some rooms, Throndir, before you begin telling them awful stories about me."

"But I have so many," he says with a chuckle, turning away from her to approach the counter again.

Nura fights the smile that tugs at her lips. She understands Elice's desire to run away from home considering the stories the woman has told her of her parents and their oppression. But she can help but imagining a scrappy young Elf with defiance in her eyes and a chip on her shoulder intent on making her own way in the world.

"Ah, I only have two rooms available." He shakes his head, pencilling something into his ledger. "So many come to Giem during Equinox, just for the chance to see the statues of Bielfrit."

Nura's attention catches on that and she steps forward. "The statues of Bielfrit?" she questions, something unpleasant unfurling in her gut.

"Yes," Throndir replies, lifting his gaze to meet hers, shadowed by her hood. "They're only available when the Wraith Lake freezes over each year. It's a great display of the powers of—"

"We'll take those rooms, Throndir," Elice interrupts, a sharp edge to her tone. Nura's gaze flicks to her, that feeling in her gut becoming almost painful.

"No stories today then?" Throndir says, amusement in the lines around his eyes. The Elf shrugs and passes Elice a set of keys. "Your old room and the one at the end of the hall. I trust you remember them."

"I do," Elice replies and begins walking, Canaan following close behind. Nura hesitates, glancing at Throndir. Questions are pressed against her lips, begging to be let out, but Throndir has lowered his head back to his books and Elice's cane taps against the tiled flooring like a warning.

Nura leaves her questions behind and follows Elice because that feeling in her gut is telling her that some things are best left unknown.