Frost-clad pine trees loomed over the narrow mountain pass like skeletal sentinels.\n\nOnyx kept his hood pulled low, the black fabric stiff with frozen moisture.\n\nEvery step through the deep, violet-tinted snow drifts required a conscious effort of will.\n\nBehind him, Xime's boots crunched with a rhythmic, irritating steadiness.\n\n\"How much further?\" Xime asked, his breath a white cloud.\n\n\"As far as it takes to reach the village,\" Onyx replied coldly.\n\nAdjusting the strap of his blade, he felt his fingers stiffen inside his leather gloves.\n\nDeep down, his core ached for the warmth radiating from the sun-wielder.\n\nAnger flared at his own weakness.\n\nShadow magic, usually so dominant and fierce, felt sluggish and weak without the light to balance it.\n\n\"You're shivering,\" Xime noted, his voice coming from right behind Onyx's shoulder.\n\n\"Mind your own business,\" Onyx snapped, quickening his pace.\n\nDesire to avoid Xime's pity drove him to quicken his pace.\n\nStealing a fraction of Xime's solar spark was his only hope of independence.\n\nSurvival in this cursed twilight would finally be on his own terms.\n\nAchieving that meant getting close, showing vulnerability, and finding the perfect moment.\n\nRounding a sharp bend in the path, the forest suddenly gave way to a wide, frozen valley.\n\nNestled in the center of the depression lay Oakhaven.\n\n---\n\nFrost-rimed cobblestones crunched under Onyx's heavy leather boots, the sharp, crystalline sound echoing through the dead silence of Oakhaven.\n\nEvery breath he took felt like swallowing broken glass, the biting cold settling deep into his chest.\n\nCold air scraped against his raw throat, leaving a bitter, metallic taste of frozen rot on his tongue.\n\nAround them, the once-vibrant village stood in a state of eternal, agonizing twilight, completely frozen in time.\n\nPurple-tinted ice coated the wooden walls of the cottages, glittering under the dead sky like bruised, rotting jewels.\n\nXime walked a half-step behind him, his natural heat radiating like a low-burning hearth in the freezing dark.\n\nEven without direct physical contact, Onyx could feel the golden warmth of the sun-wielder's presence, a constant temptation in this frozen hell.\n\n\"We should turn back,\" Xime murmured, his voice stripped of its usual cocky, arrogant edge.\n\n\"There is nothing left here but ghosts and ice,\" Xime added, his breath blooming in thick white clouds.\n\nOnyx didn't answer, keeping his pale face forward and his eyes locked on the treacherous path ahead.\n\nA butcher stood frozen in mid-swing near a collapsed stall, his heavy iron cleaver suspended forever over a slab of gray meat.\n\nAn elderly woman sat on a stone bench nearby, her arms wrapped tightly around an empty space where her grandchild must have been.\n\n\"I was here once,\" Onyx whispered, the confession slipping past his lips before he could stop it.\n\nXime paused, his golden eyes narrowing with a quiet, heavy curiosity.\n\n\"When were you in Oakhaven?\" Xime asked, his boots crunching softly on the frost