A hot, stinging tear leaks from the corner of my eye, tracing a path through the grime on my temple.
He was right.
My whole life has been a penance. A long, cold, gray waiting. I ran from the fire that took my family. I was a coward. I brought the fire to Oakhaven. And now, I have brought him here.
I cannot run anymore.
The mural glows on the wall across the cavern, a silent, green promise. A life willingly given to restore what was lost.
This is not a tragedy. It is an answer.
I told him about Christmas. I told him it was a time for hope, for light in the darkness. A time for giving.
This is my wish for my last Christmas. This is the only gift I have left to give.
My broken, useless, guilt-ridden life... for his.
For the warrior I saw in the snow. For the man I see trapped behind those agonized, red eyes.
If we leave this place, Larda will find us. Threk's leg is too bad. He will not run. He will stand and fight for me. He will die in the snow, full of rage, a monster defending a fool. His death will be my final sin.
But this way...
He lives. He is restored. He is free.
My death saves him. My life finally means something.
It is an atonement.
I have to move.
My hand trembles as I reach up to his arm, the massive, scarred limb that cages me. It is a steel bar across my waist. I cannot lift it.
Slowly. Inch by agonizing inch.
I wriggle my body out from under his. I slide downward, like a snake, out of his heat, out of his safety.
The loss of his warmth is immediate. The humming air of the cavern feels cold against my skin, damp and lonely.
I shiver.
Threk groans in his deep sleep.
His hand, the one I just escaped, clutches the empty furs where I was.
"Betty..." he mumbles, his voice thick and broken. "Mine..."
A sob builds in my throat, burning like acid. It takes everything in me to swallow it.
I am so sorry, Threk. I am so sorry I'm a liar. I am so sorry I was not strong enough to live for you.
I cannot leave him nothing.
I crawl to my small, discarded pack. I pull out the one thing I have left in this world.
The small, wooden star.
My father's gift. My family's memory. My Christmas promise.
