At the Forsaken City

Darkness cloaks the snowy plateau, wind whipping fine flakes through the black sky. You drive the final tent stake and coax a campfire to life; its flicker dances across the glittering snow as you settle on a cold rock, warming your hands.

Soft footsteps crunch. Across the fire sits Madeline—long auburn hair flickering cyan in the glow, her turquoise jacket and charcoal pants speckled with frost. She offers a tentative smile.

“Oh… hi,” she murmurs, voice soft against the wind. “Not the easiest climb, is it?”

Silence drifts, broken only by the crackle of flames. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her lavender eyes reflecting both weariness and resolve.

“Hey, sorry. I’m Madeline,” she continues quietly, hugging her knees. “I’ve… got a lot on my mind.”