Jim's body was cold. Like, death-by-ice-cream cold.
He was lying on a bed of frosted rock in what might've been the coldest corner of Steza. His fingers were stiff. His breath came out in white ghosts. Eyes wide open, blinking snowflakes. For a second, he thought he was dead.
Then he moved.
Which was inconvenient, because dead people don't feel pain—and he felt everything.
"Ughhh," he groaned, sitting up like a zombie who'd missed his alarm.
Somehow, he was shirtless. He had no idea why. Maybe someone robbed him. Maybe Zela had a weird fashion tax. Who knew. All he knew was—this sucked.
He forced himself to stand, feet crunching in the snow. He pulled out his night rider sword, and just like that—boom—his eyes lit up, blue fire spiraling like angry neon. He entered night rider mode, chest glowing with that signature Sigil.
And there it was.
A dying Oxed, slumped a few feet away. Big bird. Bat head. Sad eyes.
Ozelean ride, Jim thought. Which meant—trouble had been here. Recent.
He approached it cautiously, like a tourist stumbling across a dragon at the zoo. The Oxed groaned. Jim stared into its giant, glassy eye—
And saw.
Saw Gulutel—beard flapping heroically in the wind—strike the creature down. Saw his bear pal at his side. Saw himself and Shæz lying like dropped groceries in the snow. Gulutel had peeled the thick blanket off Jim and wrapped it around Shæz. Then—chucked Jim to the side like expired cheese.
"Wow," Jim muttered. "Okay. Rude."
Gulutel strapped Shæz onto the bear, hopped on like some frostpunk cowboy, and rode off into the white blur of Steza's blizzard.
Back in the present, the Oxed took one last breath—and died.
Jim let out a breath. Reached out for his invisible bike, hoping it would magically swoosh in. Nothing. Just a puff of snow and the sound of loneliness.
"Awesome," he muttered. "Stranded in Hoth. Naked. Love this journey for me."
But then—tracks.
The bear had left huge, deep prints in the snow, perfect breadcrumbs back to… somewhere.
Jim squinted into the distance, his hair now a frozen helmet. He couldn't stand still—Steza's wind could freeze ambition. So he did what any semi-magical interdimensional nomad would do:
He ran.
And cursed. "FUCK!"
Echoes bounced back at him like snowball bullies.
One minute he was tangled up in the best night of his life, making love like a hero in a romance flick—and the next, he was sprinting through a murder blizzard like a half-naked popsicle.
"Seriously, how is this my life?" he yelled at the sky.
The sky did not answer.
But somewhere in the distance, the cold wind carried something new.
A hum. A vibration. A call.
Senedro wasn't done with him.
Not by a long shot.
Meanwhile… Gulutel and Shæz were riding atop the great black bear, its thick fur rippling under the weight of the two. The wind was relentless. Steza's sky was a blank sheet of gray, falling snow like static. Shæz stirred.
Her lashes blinked off frost. She opened her eyes slowly, felt the bear's heaving stride, saw Gulutel up front, grim as ever.
She sat up.
"Where… what happened?" she rasped. "Where's Shean?"
Gulutel didn't turn. Didn't even flinch.
She tried again, louder this time. "Gulutel—where is he?"
Still nothing. The man was as warm as a stone.
He was doing this for her. At least, that's what he told himself. But truth was, he never trusted Shean. Something about that boy never sat right with him. Too many questions. Too many powers. Too many eyes lighting up when things got weird.
Shæz shifted behind him, her voice sharp now. "I'm getting off. I'm not going anywhere without Shean."
This time, Gulutel spoke. "I had one blanket. One chance. It was Steza. You wouldn't survive a minute out there alone. I chose. I chose you."
His voice was firm, but low. "I gave your father my word."
Shæz scoffed, almost laughed. "Don't lie, Gulutel. You hated the dude. Everyone knew it."
Silence.
Then he muttered, "You're right. I never loved him. There's no way one can. That boy—Shean—he's taken too much from us. From Zela. From peace. Since the moment he arrived."
Her voice cracked like thunder. "Stop it! For Senedro's sake—stop it! You think everything wrong is his fault?"
Before he could answer— WHAM!
Something slammed into the bear with a crunch of fur and snow and fury.
They were knocked off the beast, tumbling down into the white.
The bear roared, trying to get up—but a massive shadow towered over it. An Oxed.
Bigger than any they'd seen. Sleek black feathers tipped with frost. Head like a gargoyle. Eyes blazing orange. It crawled straight over the bear, ignoring it, zeroing in on Shæz. Maybe the Ozeleans saw her. Maybe they tracked her. Maybe they were just mad she ran.
It didn't matter now. She was cornered.
Gulutel scrambled to pull his blade, snow blinding his aim. The Oxed screeched, wings spreading wide like jagged knives— And then—SCHHHRRRKK! One blur. One slice. One second.
The Oxed's head rolled into the snow. Its body slumped with a crunch. Standing behind it—
Eyes glowing. Sword humming. Breathing hard. Was Jim.
"Miss me?" he panted, grinning like someone who just crashed a party and brought his own fireworks.
Shæz stared, speechless.
Gulutel stared harder—gritted teeth, blade still out.
And Jim? He just dusted snow off his shoulder like a boss.
"Let's not do the whole 'leave Shean behind in the snow to die' thing again," he said. "Cool?"
But when he looked into Shæz's eyes, something inside him twisted. It wasn't just exhaustion or shock—it was pain. Real, deep, soul-shaking pain. The kind that made his breath catch and his heart stumble. Her eyes didn't light up when they met his. There was no joy. No relief. Just silence. She was holding something heavy, something he couldn't see but could feel in every heartbeat. And for the first time, he realized—he had missed something. Something big. Something that may have cost him more than time. The trust they had, the connection—nah, they weren't the same. Not anymore. He wasn't sure if it was doubt, betrayal, or sorrow. But whatever it was… it was real. And it hurt.