⭒ DEATH ― kaz brekker ⭒

9 - Azalea

"I'm going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me," Jesper says, completely out of context.

I look over at him as I walk next to him, then glance at Kaz as he gets into pace with us on my other side.

"Why don't you pay someone else to pay someone to burn your kruge for you? That's what the big players do," Kaz replies, his tone blunt, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks.

"You know what the really big bosses do?" Jesper asks. "They pay someone to pay someone to pay someone to. . . nevermind, I'm lost." I smirk and glance at him. He gives me a playful glare.

We all simultaneously pick up the pace. My feet have already begun to grow cold. After another few days in the boat, we're finally off of it with Specht's kind farewell. It was strange to say goodbye to schooner after adjusting to life upon it, but I'm partially glad to be off of it, especially since the plan has finally begun. My nerves are buzzing with excitement and pent up energy from resting on the ship for so long without any way to exhaust myself or fight. Part of me is hoping for us to get caught up in a battle so that I can use my spear again. I refused to leave it behind, even though Inej and Kaz both parted with their weapons. The former, her knives, the latter, his crow. But having the spear is a childish comfort and has always been since the day my mother carved the swirls and floral designs into the handles, teaching me how to use it with the grace of a soaring bird. It gives me a sense of control when I wield it, something that mingles well with my excitement. Though, it isn't just my excitement that's keeping me on the tips of my toes. It's the life hidden beneath all the snow and ice.

I feel Djel beneath my feet, although I don't specifically worship the Fjerdan religion. I feel life and connection, the cold air that stings my cheeks also associated with memories of the past, the air that everyone has shared in a lifetime. The crunch of the white powder is something to remember, and there's a slight scent in the air that you can only detect if you really try. At first, I see a barren wasteland drowned in snowstorms and ice. But after a few moments, I realize that the clusters of boulders surrounding our path and preserved, frozen trees are buzzing with life and the promise of prosperity. I feel the Ash Tree's roots even out here, providing a sense of security and safety. I suddenly understand how Fjerdans thrive so easily in this place.

You only need to be able to feel the life hidden beneath the icy exterior of Fjerda.

We walk in silence until Jesper begins kicking at the snow, a spray of the frigid powder hitting my legs. I glare at him and he gives me a sheepish smile before running up ahead. I chase after him, grabbing a handful of snow and whipping it at his back. He yelps in surprise and stumbles into the snow, his poofy jacket coated in a layer of frozen fractals. I grin at him as he grumbles and grabs a bit of snow, tossing it at me. I dodge it with ease and help him up, brushing a bit of it off of him as he shivers, smacking me playfully. "Now I'm cold," he complains.

"You were not cold before? Well, I am glad you're finally suffering as we are," I reply with a prim smile. His grey eyes glare at me.

"I hate you."

I laugh. "Relax, Jes." I hold up three fingers on both my hands, crossing them over each other and speeding his heart up to allow blood to spread through him quicker, warming him up.

Jesper kisses me on my cheek gratefully. "I retract my statement."

I smile. "Good."

I feel someone watching us and glance back at the group, further behind. Kaz walks alone, and even from here I can tell that he's staring into my eyes. I smile at him and he exhales, his breath visibly flying into the air as he shakes his head at our childish games.