Endurance B2C8

"We know where they're headed. If we make out way up the mountain, we increase the chances of finding one another."

[...]

The tremors increased in frequency once we got outside. They weren't overly noticeable at first, almost like tiny vibrations in the snow, but after a good thirty minutes of trekking through the snow, they started to become bigger and bigger. I couldn't help but be thankful I'd woken up when I did, otherwise we would have been buried beneath the ice by now.

"Is this the work of the magical currents, again?" I asked, pulling my cloak against my chest. The back of it flapped out violently in the wind, exposing my lower body to the chill air.

"If so, then it's getting worse." Blake struggled as I did, her black hair flapping wildly, head lowered so that her face was concealed against the snow the wind kicked up. Each step was becoming difficult, our progress grinding to a near halt. "Jaune… we need to find shelter. This wind… it's getting worse."

"I know," I had to shout now to make myself heard. "We'll find a cave, shelter, something. Just… keep pushing on."

If Blake said anything, I didn't hear it – the noise swallowed by the howling gale. It didn't seem possible; the weather had been calm with but the smallest breeze earlier, and now the wind was powerful enough to drag up huge tracts of white and dash it in our faces. It changed direction on a whim too, tugging my cloak to the left one moment, then dragging me back the next.

It wasn't natural, that much was clear.

It only got worse as time went on, too. The wind continued to howl, dragging snow with it from further up the mountain, until – without warning – the very sky itself seemed to be blotted out. All that could be heard was the whirring noise of it, the constant hum of the storm. It bit into my skin. The breath that escaped me froze on my lips, even as the very blood than ran through my body felt like it did the same. Every step was dogged, each one a challenge to remain standing.

Words had long since failed us, and the effort felt too much now. Snow crunched underfoot, but the footprints we made were washed away almost immediately. It was hard to see for the blurred wall of white before me.

We need shelter, I thought, body shaking. If we don't find a way out of this wind, we'll die here. I felt I should be more afraid of that, but it was like the cold sapped away at my thoughts, taking the fear aside too. Lay down, it seemed to suggest, lay down and rest. I wasn't so far gone that I didn't know how that would end.

A new blast of wind struck, knocking me back a step. I growled at it and forced my eyes open, one arm held before my face to try and shield them. There was something ahead, in the snow… a dark shape.

Please don't be a Grimm. We can't handle that right now.

The shape didn't move, however, and as the wind blasted back up, it was almost concealed from view. It couldn't be a tree… there hadn't been a forest for a while, and it was far too small. If it were a Grimm, it would have surely attacked us too.

"There's something ahead…" I yelled. "It might be shelter!"

The Assassin mumbled something. It was too low to hear, if I'd even been meant to. She trudged a few steps behind, hands clenched against her chest. Our fur cloaks, a gift for the cold weather, did so little now.

It took another minute or two for the object to be revealed once more and closer now – the overall shape of it became clearer. It was squat and dark, with a sloped surface. A building… had we found a sign of human life up on the mountain?

It didn't matter. We'd found shelter – and that was all that mattered.

"Blake! We did it." I whooped as new energy flooded my limbs. I expected similar from her, or at least some words of approval. I received nothing. It was enough to make me worry and turn around. "Blake…?" I asked.

There was no one standing behind me – but a little further back, a dark shape lay in the snow.

My heart stopped. It started again an instant later, but that wasn't enough to stop the visceral fear rush through me. I stumbled back, half a run, half a case of falling across the snow as I crashed down beside her. The blizzard had already begun to cover her, removing all evidence my friend had ever existed, but my hands crunched down into it and turned her over. Blake's face was so pale, her lips parted and eyes closed.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, not now – not like this." She felt so cold in my hands, and although I could still see her breath in the air, it was faltering and weak. "Wake up," I hissed, shaking her. She didn't open her eyes.

The blizzard tugged at me, still, dragging me down, but I forced myself to stand, Blake cradled before me. She wasn't heavy, not in the conventional sense, but with my energy as it was, she might as well have weighed a thousand pounds or more. Every step was a torturous affair, and it felt like the wind might send me rolling back down the mountain at the slightest provocation. It wasn't even that steep; it was just that the storm was so strong.

"I won't give up," I promised, pushing ever-forward, one step after the next – one crunch of snow before another. Her raven tresses flapped up into my face, but those too went ignored. I just had to reach that building. I just had to… get her inside, get help. The building revealed itself as a wooden thing, with a sloped roof already covered in a later of white. A chimney peeked over the top, with a slanted cover above it, but no smoke came from within. The windows were iced over completely. I sagged against the door, slamming on it with one hand. "Help," I cried. "Let us in – we need shelter."

There was no response.

Frustration pooled within me, but a quick look down at Blake's pale face more than made up my mind. Taking a step back, Blake still in my arms, I delivered a fierce kick at the door latch. It cracked and splintered, the door remaining in one piece, but the lock – no doubt rusted and old – snapping in two.

Snow fell from my boots as I trudged deeper into the small cabin, eyes tracing left and right. No sign of the inhabitants, and the interior was only marginally warmer than outside. The wind was gone, however, and the chill it delivered eased from our bodies. It wouldn't be enough for Blake, though. She needed a fire – and fast.

"Just hold on a little longer," I whispered and placed her down by the clay-formed fire place. I patted her cloak out beneath her, and then echoed her sacrifice from earlier, placing my own over her body like a blanket.

[...]

Relief poured through me as it took hold and began to burn, creeping down the chair leg as a stead flame appeared. My shoulders sagged, body falling back to sit beside Blake as the fire began to crackle and burn. "We did it," I whispered. "Blake, I managed it. You'll be okay."

The Assassin didn't respond. Gently, I laid a hand against her cheek. She was so cold, but I could also feel the heat from the fire on the back of my hand. Her breathing was weak and light, but steady. She was shaking, however. Why was she still cold? My hand drifted a little lower, checking her pulse against her neck.

My fingers came away wet.

"Shit." I tore the cloak off her body, pressing a hand to her stomach and the dark clothes she wore. They were sodden and clung to her skin. The snow and ice had begun to melt, but all across her body, leaving the girl covered in icy water. Her face was less pale, but her shoulders were nearly white. "Damn it," I swore, fumbling with some of the belts she gad about her and taking those off. Her outfit hung a little looser, but the wet material still sagged and stuck to her body.

It had to go.

[...]

The heat from the fire should help her more now. The clothing and water was probably keeping the cold air against her skin.

I placed a hand against her cheek, and then against her bare stomach. Her face felt far warmer, likely a sign that I'd left her in wet clothing for a little too long. I didn't want to move her too close to the fire in case something went wrong, however. Her legs had it far worse, with her feet being ice cold. Without really thinking about it, I crossed my legs by her lower body and lifted her feet into my lap, to try and share some of my own warmth.

"You can't be a Hero if you can't walk, Blake," I said, lifting one pale foot up and gently massaging the skin between my fingers. "How are you supposed to help me out the next time I'm in over my head if you lose your legs?"

If Blake had some sarcastic reply – and I knew she would – then she was too exhausted to use it. Her lips parted a little, but it looked like it was an unconscious action, likely a sign of her body relaxing in the heat. As her muscles loosened and the warmth bore into her, she'd have a better chance of waking up. Considering the lack of firewood in the cabin, that was important.

I glanced down to my hands, her cold foot clasped between them. I could speed up the process a little… much like I had with her before. My eyes closed as I took a deep breath and concentrated, drawing heat to my palms like I had to start the fire, but far less. I didn't want to hurt her, or to overpower her senses, but instead to work the heat into her body. My hands tingled as I felt my Passive come to life. I gripped her foot and massaged it, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw her skin colour darken. It was working! I placed it down on my lap when it was done, picking up her other – which felt icy by comparison – and working on it too.

This was perhaps the first time I'd ever really found a real use for my Passive. The irony that it was for something unrelated to blacksmithing wasn't lost on me. Anyone could avoid being burned by their own forging… all they had to do was follow the basic safety precautions, but now I had irrefutable evidence that my Passive was useful. It started the fire, and now – as I cupped my hands and ran them up and down her left leg – it was massaging heat back into her body.

[...]

I felt cold again.

The sensation was slow to filter into my brain, and when it did, it still took another few seconds for me to realise why I should pay attention. The blizzard, the cabin – the fire that had to be kept going at all costs… My eyes snapped open and I lurched up, only to pause at the crackling wood that still burned in the hearth. It was still alive and going, but in that case... I glanced down. My arms were empty. In fact, I'd woken up alone. Where was Blake? I looked around in a panic.

It didn't take long to see the amber eyes watching me from the wall beside the hearth.

"Blake," I gasped, "You're okay?"

Those wary eyes stared into mine. "Why was I… why am I naked?" she asked.