The snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked away from the fallen commander, the cold wind carrying a quiet stillness over the lifeless battlefield. Viktor trudged beside Kaavi, his steps slower than usual. His hands were buried in his cloak, but Kaavi could see the way his fingers clenched and unclenched—silent frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

  For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the howling wind and the distant caw of the raven flying ahead. Then, Viktor finally broke the silence.

  Viktor: “…We could’ve buried him.”

  Kaavi didn’t slow his pace.

  Kaavi: “No time. The snow will do it for us.”

  Viktor bit his lip. He knew Kaavi was right, but it didn’t sit well with him.

  Viktor: “It just… feels wrong. Leaving him like that.”

  Kaavi glanced at him briefly before looking ahead again.

  Kaavi: “You’ll get used to it.”

  The words were simple, but Viktor didn’t like them.

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  Viktor: “I don’t want to get used to it.”

  Kaavi exhaled through his nose, adjusting the strap of his bag.

  Kaavi: “You will. Because if you don’t, you won’t survive.”

  Viktor didn’t reply right away. His breath fogged in the cold air as he stared at the ground beneath his feet.

  Viktor: “He had a family.”

  Kaavi’s steps slowed just a fraction before he continued forward.

  Kaavi: “Most do.”

  Viktor frowned. He had never thought about it like that before. Every soldier, every bandit, every person left bleeding in the snow—they all had someone waiting for them. The weight of it pressed against his chest, heavier than the cold.

  Kaavi could see the thoughts turning in the boy’s head. He let the silence settle before speaking again.

  Kaavi: “Do you know why he told us their names?”

  Viktor glanced up, confused.

  Viktor: “Because he wanted us to remember?”

  Kaavi gave a slow nod.

  Kaavi: “He knew he was dying. The only thing left for him was the hope that someone—anyone—would carry the memory of his family forward. That’s what mattered to him in the end.”

  Viktor looked away, his fingers tightening around his cloak.

  Viktor: “It’s not fair.”

  Kaavi let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humour in it.

  Kaavi: “Fairness is a game played by fools. The world doesn’t care about fairness. It doesn’t care about the ones who die or the ones left behind.”

  Viktor hated how true that sounded.

  Viktor: “Then what’s the point?”

  Kaavi stopped walking. Viktor took a few more steps before realizing and turning to face him.

  Kaavi looked at him, his dark eyes steady.

  Kaavi: “The point is… you decide what you carry forward.”

  Viktor furrowed his brows.

  Kaavi: “If you remember him, if you tell his story, then he isn’t gone. If you let yourself forget, then he dies for nothing.”

  Viktor swallowed. He had never thought about it like that before.

  For a long moment, he stood there, staring down at the snow beneath his feet. Then, he nodded. It was small, barely noticeable, but Kaavi saw it. Without another word, he turned and continued walking. Viktor followed, his steps just a little steadier.

  As they moved further along the path, the raven flying ahead let out a sharp caw. Kaavi’s head lifted slightly, his pace slowing.

  Viktor: “What is it?”

  Kaavi’s eyes scanned the horizon. The raven circled in the air before diving down toward a cluster of jagged rocks. Something was there.

  Kaavi motioned for Viktor to stay close.

  Kaavi: “Let’s find out.”

  Viktor swallowed hard, but he nodded. His grip on his cloak tightened as he followed Kaavi toward whatever lay ahead.