The trail stretched in an endless sheet of white no matter where Mersem looked. He tightened his coat around himself, grateful for its meager heat. His scarf dug against his nose as he tucked his chin against it. The tent's open flap swayed with the strong breeze wailing outside. Mersem had lost count of how many times he ducked his head under his arm when he thought the wind would uproot their shelter and sweep it into the harsh wilderness.

They left the last town of Hosten yesterday as scheduled but as soon as they reached half of the ascent trail in the Pike Mountains, the sky had turned gray and soon, strong, blistering winds began bearing down on them. "Storms aren't usual at this time of the year!" Malon had shouted through the haze of snow and hail whipping around them. "There's no use going through this! We have to let it pass!"

So, they did. They set their belongings down and began setting up the tent between two huge tree trunks in the middle of the snowy forest. Even with the protection of the huge trees, their tent still ended up getting shaken up every now and then.

Outside the tent, Mersem eyed the dark sky. The sun had set a long time ago but the winds still hadn't calmed down. It took a long time to last, even for a storm in the mountains. Mersem pursed his lips, feeling the chapped skin peeling from them. He needed water but at the state of things, the only liquid they were carrying had frozen solid.

The fire Fryth had built inside the tent crackled, sending waves of heat rolling towards Mersem. It did nothing to still the shivers gripping his hands and feet but it sure eased the tension in his spine and shoulders. He sighed and rested his chin against his knees with his legs folded close to his chest. It looked like he was going to sleep in this position as well.

"Hey, chin up," a wooden cup edged in his periphery. He looked up to see Leara smiling at him despite the layers she donned. Her hair was tucked inside her furry hood. His eyes went back to the cup she held close to his face. Judging from the savory smoke curling from it, it's qiorfe.

Mersem did lift his chin up and accepted the cup. "Thanks," he took a sip and nodded. Oh, whoever made this sure hit the spot. "This is good."

"Thanks," Leara ducked her head and sat next to him. Even their proximity didn't manage to lift the cold settling in his bones. That's just how bad it was for them at this moment. "Made it myself. Just like how gran taught me."

He raised an eyebrow. Leara had never talked about her family before, not even to her long-time guildmates, Fryth and Malon. He doubted Teren even heard a breath about Leara's family for her. So why was she telling him that now?

"I guess it's my way of saying thanks back there," Leara rubbed a gloved hand against her thick sleeves. "I wouldn't have made it out alive without you."

Mersem snorted. There was a new kind of heat coloring his cheeks. "I-it's nothing," he said, though his voice sounded nothing more than a whisper. "You would have done the same thing for me."

Leara nodded. "Considering we met only a few weeks ago, I'd say it's brave of you to save someone you don't know," she said. "Heroic, even."

He opened his mouth then closed it again. Leara wasn't exactly a stranger to him. He had first seen her during the Striden Order's cadet training in Falkmena. As the only woman in a batch full of burly men, she sure stuck out like a sore thumb. With her white hair in braids around her head and her piercing stare, she got his attention and never let it go for as long as she was on that field.

When he watched how the training was going from behind a line of bushes, he saw how easily she toppled man after man, always going for their weak spots usually in their ankles or their open lefts or rights. She didn't even have a sword.

Then, he got his hands on every news he could about the rare lady knight who bested every drafted soldier in the Striden Order during her first year of service and how she earned the cleanest track record in terms of completed assignments. It was around last year when he heard the news that a certain Leara Madris was on the running to replace the order's Captain of the Guard as the old one was retiring.

He kept it from everyone, even from Silke, but he didn't just love Leara for her tenacity and skill. He adored her because of her willpower to stick in places everyone around her thought she didn't belong into. Was that why she was partial to Mersem becoming a bounty hunter despite never holding a sword in his lifetime?

He could never tell.

"So why do you need to join the military?" Mersem said. He didn't know what he was asking her either but he let it flow. "You could have stayed in your hometown and built a business or something."

Leara snorted. She sidled closer to him but it could have been just his imagination. "A business? I wasn't much of a saleswoman," she said. "I couldn't operate a loom or do anything right in terms of skills fit for a lady. Holding a sword is the only thing I'm good at."

"I doubt it," Mersem shrugged, taking a swig off his cup. The lukewarm drink turned the taste of the qiorfe staler than he would've liked. "You could learn any skill just as you learned sword fighting. Maybe it just doesn't interest you."

She chuckled. "Maybe," she said. "Why would you ask me that?"

He stuck his bottom lip out. "No reason, really," he said. "It just struck me as odd that even with your standing in the order, you're still out here, building guilds and going on quests."

"The guild was something I founded way, way back, when I was still a young pigeon learning how to fly," Leara recounted. Her gaze turned distant as if she was slowly getting sucked into her own memories, "I just couldn't let go of it through the years."

"As for quests such as this," she continued, crossing her legs at the ankles. "I need this to boost my chances of being elected as the Captain of the Guard."

Mersem scratched his head, cursing inwardly at the dampness that soaked past his gloves. "Would that be decided based on skill or something?"

Leara shook her head. "As a woman in the military, I had to do everything with twice the gravity just so I could be taken seriously," she said. "It's the same thing as aiming for a position as high as the leader of the Order. I have to beat my competitors—who are all men, by the way—and what better way to do it than responding to that notice and finishing this quest?"

He hummed, averting his eyes to the ground, letting his boots sink deeper into the layer of snow on which they stuck their tent into. "Yeah," he said, bobbing his head without much energy. To these people, Silke was just a way to move up what power ladder they were presented with. To them, his sister wasn't a life which could be lost or a child with a lifetime ahead of her. That brought about another twinge in his gut. "Yeah, I guess."

Silence gripped them both until Mersem raised his head once more to meet Leara's gaze. "What else do you know about this thief?" he asked. "What did she steal from the palace armory?"

She set her lips in a thin line. From beyond the bubble their conversation formed, Fryth cursed as he tried zipping himself inside his sleeping bag. Malon, meanwhile, smoothed the glass bottle free from the last drop of brandy. The hunter threw the empty bottle into the snow with a muffled thud and plopped against Fryth's bundle and closed his eyes. Soon, he was snoring as loud as his guildmate.

How in the gods' trousers was Leara getting along with these people?

"I was only given second-hand information about the notice but I'll bet this thief was a powerful mage like Aramale," Leara answered. Mersem resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Given Silke's tendency to be shrill, have a bad case of tangled hair, and threaten to decapitate Mersem, yeah, she could be a hag sometimes. "With the weather against us like this, it's either her doing or she has someone with her who knows how to cast elemental arts enough to control the winds and the snowfall. They're buying time. They know we're coming. If that's so, your theory about the people we asked all saying the thief was going west as if they're under a spell couldn't be truer. We're up against a powerful mage or two."

This time, Mersem wasn't able to hold in his snort. "She can't be a mage," he blurted. "I'm sure she has someone with her."

Leara narrowed her eyes. "You seem to know an awful lot about this thief."

"Which is a given!" Mersem said quickly. He could have leaped miles away from her. "I mean, I'm supposed to respond to the notice so, of course, I have to gather information about my target."

He chuckled, a nervous wave washing past him. For the first time in months, he felt sweat coming out of his pores. "Maybe my sources were just more reliable and accurate," he said.

Instead of pushing further, Leara inclined her head at him. "I won't ask you what secret you told Aramale," she said. "But I hope, someday, you'll be able to tell me yourself. It's the first step of becoming a bounty hunter. You've got to be able to trust your comrades with your all."

Mersem didn't reply. How many things about Leara Madris did Malon and Fryth know? How many things about her they didn't and wouldn't ever know? It's not just a proof of trust, it's surrendering control over the darkest aspects of one's life. Being a part of these groups, it's going to cost Mersem more than he ever liked.

"Well, that's it for tonight," Leara slapped her knees and pushed herself up even though her height only allowed her to bend her body at the hips so her head wouldn't hit the tent's pinion. "You should get some sleep."

He gave her a small smile and watched her stalk towards her passed-out guildmates and without taking anything off, curled up beside them. Soon, her light snores joined their boisterous ones.

Mersem set his cup of cold qiorfe down and blew a cold breath. With the state of chaos around him, the looming confrontation with his sister, and the sudden truth that Leara Madris might not be as holy as he thought her to be, he doubted he'd be able to sleep tonight.

Or any night that would follow.