Casper was climbing up that tower with all his might. Because of the cold weather, his hands almost stuck in the iron structure of the tower. His hand's skin started to peel, and some parts had flesh taken off.
It would be a very painful situation, if he, at least, could feel his hands.
The more he climbed, the colder it seemed to become. The wind seemed to be kidding with him because it was getting stronger over time and his weak arms could barely handle to keep his body from falling.
Casper did not know how many times he could last like that, he had no idea of how much time his muscles would bear all that pressure. Each meter that he covered seemed more like a whole kilometer.
"Whoever is the person who climbed it, they deserve my compliments. I am nearly dying here…" He complained.
His lungs started to feel tinier as well. They were weak, and every breath inflicted a huge amount of pain. He was sure that his face probably was getting purple because he could not breathe right.
Casper's knees were also in pain, or better, all the joints of his body were in the same situation. Be it for the huge effort or because of the cold, he did not know exactly.
"How many meters does this tower have, actually? 25 or less? I hope it's less than it… Please be less…"
Anyways, even if it hurt a lot; even if his body was constantly screaming in pain and exhaustion; and even if he was turning into an ice block, Casper did not stop. He gritted his teeth, frowned as hard as he could, and bore all of it.
All that ordeal was a huge weight on his shoulders, but no burden would match the same weight that his failure in that mission could make him carry for the rest of his life: First, dishonor the death of all those people below there. And second, be the cause of Nach's death.
Because of all those motivations, he needed to keep going up. He needed to sacrifice everything he could, as long as he was able to, at least, finish climbing that tower.
From time to time, Casper would look down, and see the figure of Sionnach standing there, prepared for the imminent invasion, never avoiding her eyes off the carnage occurring with her comrades.
She kept staring at it intently, as if she was trying to take note of how each of them died, to keep everyone in her memory.
Casper felt just admiration for her. She sure was a strong woman, a real warrior. He himself would not stand to look at his friends dying and do nothing. He lacked the guts for it. Another point was that just a very confident and determined person could stay unshakable in the face of the fact that, soon or later, they would need to fight with dozens of enemies alone.
"After this nightmare come to an end, I think that we will become very good friends, Sionnach… I hope you say to me your real name when this time comes… And maybe you can explain to me what happened in your life that turned you into such a strong person…"
…
Fifteen years ago…
Sionnach was laying on the ground, tucked inside of an improvised tent, looking into space.
The tent was so poorly made, that it barely stopped the cold wind from the blizzard that was going outside.
Her brother was embraced by her, sleeping quietly with long, relaxed breaths.
He could not sleep without her beside him. His nightmares were getting worse with time. She did not have any idea of how to stop it to come.
Sionnach needed to go out, with blizzard or not, to find food for dinner (which was the only meal they could have in their daily routine). Anyways, with her brother desperate and weak whenever she left him alone, Nach could do nothing but be by his side.
Sten panicked whenever she left. She did not know why, but he got so desperate to the point of cry uncontrollably and scream crazily. He would rush off the tent and search for her through the city until he finds her… or died first.
Sten had a bad immunity. He got sick so easily that was terrifying. Particularly terrifying when you lived in a place like District 42, where most of the time the weather was cold and every single street was filled with trash and dirty mixed with snow.
Sionnach also was a very sick and weak kid, even weaker than her brother.
But she kept going find food sometimes, even in the blizzard. She would give almost all her clothes to Sten when the temperatures decreased a lot. She would even stay hungry to feed him properly. She would forget the bruises of the fight she needed to get into to protect the tent from other homeless kids.
And she would keep also like that, staring into space, embracing him tightly even though her arms were numb; all of this with that strange feeling of her life fading bit by bit, with her vision getting blurred, and her mind sinking into the space she was staring at.
But she never let go of her brother.
Never…
…
Bip… Bip… Bip
Sionnach kept focusing on the noises that her device was making.
It was kinda disturbing, and even stubborn, but not unbearable.
Her heart was strangely at ease. It was not like the sight of her friends dying did not affect her feelings anymore. It was not that she was okay in risking so much in that single gamble as well.
Sionnach just thought that she was strong, actually. And that she would bear all that weight at once, as she did on the streets back when she was a kid.
Now that Nach was an adult, she was way more resilient than before.
She was sure that even those enemies would not be such a big deal for her. Of course not.
Nach could not die there, she would not dare to do so after the promise she did with her brother. She needed to be alive. She could not let Sten alone in that cruel world.
She needed to be strong. Strong enough to protect her brother and be by his side. If she did not, Sten would cry, and scream, and have nightmares… And would die in the blizzard searching for her.
Bip… Bip… Bip
The bips beat together with her heart, which made a curious symphony. The screams of the battle became quieter, the shoots, explosions, axes… Everything seemed to become silent.
"Wait for me, Sten… Big sister will wait until you get strong enough to be by my side…" Her eyes got filled with tears, that flowed slowly on her face, slipping through the mask and falling, freezing before touching the floor.
In a blink of an eye, all the Frelsi and citizens who were fighting wiped out all those Ridire.
All the Frelsi agreed in something after that carnage: The Ridire were formidable enemies and deserved respect for sure. They fought until the very end. Gave their lives, sacrificing it all in the name of the Jarls and, of course, Odin.
It was a disadvantage of more than two hundred people versus third. Even so, the Ridire could manage to kill at least three enemies each, on average.
Now, the majority of people alive were from the Frelsi. A few citizens could survive. What was more than 150 people, became 70, or less.
Everyone who had seen those warriors fighting from close was still shaking even at that point.
A Frelsi that had his legs substituted by prostheses walked in front of everyone and pointed towards the tower.
If they reached there in time, they could kill that man who was very close to finish climb the tower and save the progression of the rebellion.
Everyone was looking at Casper intently. Some of them already thinking if they could strike him from where they were without harming dangerously the tower's structure.
The thing was that all the ammunition got spent on the battle with the Ridire. The devices were running out of energy, and they were not so sophisticated to the point of recharge at long range like the ones made by the Jarls.
They needed more resources to make it happen smoothly, but they could not waste time going get some.
They needed to be sure that every resource they spent would kill Casper for sure, and with the minimum amount.
But, as the Frelsi taking the lead tried to give a command to go ahead, someone stopped him, drawing his attention to another figure.
A very worn-out and wounded woman was holding a hatchet in her right hand.
She was standing there with an imposing aura and a posture of superiority. Her foxy eyes, even in distance, could be seen clearly inside the mask. They were expressionless, but a mysterious and frightening glow crackled inside them.
No one there said anything, but all of them synchronized in the same thought: Why I feel like we actually can't pass through that woman?