Breaking the Divide (remastered) - Cullen Rutherford

Chapter 11: Frozen Agony

Haven was gone. The buildings glowed like dying embers, the people within reduced to agonized ash. The scouts had dug borrows through the snow to access the buried buildings, though a handful had escaped the avalanche's anger.

Cullen hefted Kaitlyn's scorched trunk—the only thing that had survived from her half-buried cabin—as he marched down the mountain path. There'd been nothing that the scouts and Bull's Chargers hadn't already reclaimed, leaving Haven as a picked-over carcass. Cullen gritted his teeth as he paused to collect another handful of Elfroot. He thawed out the leaves with his breath and fingers before storing the collection into the trunk along with Kaitlyn's things.

Grey began spilling over the mountain peak: the warning of the oncoming dawn. He grunted, quickening his pace as he trudged to the encampment below. Dying fires licked the cracked remnants of burnt logs, casting long shadows over the handful of soldiers who paced throughout the camp. The only other light came from the healer's tent.

"How is she?" Cullen asked as he set the trunk inside.

"She's fucking cold!" Bull snapped from the bed.

Kaitlyn—now wrapped in bandages—was draped across Bull's front. The qunari's hands rubbed along her back in slow, circular motions. Cullen had never thought of Kaitlyn as small until that moment. Bull could miniaturize anyone who stood beside him but Kaitlyn, with her bandages and shallow breaths, appeared closer to a sick child than an injured warrior.

"Um..." Cullen cleared his throat and glanced away. Bull was the proper choice to keep Kaitlyn warm. He was large enough to cover more of her skin and his size made him run hotter than the average human but it still felt... off to see Kaitlyn in his arms. He shifted from one foot to another as he tried to shake off the nagging emotion. "Has she improved?"

"Barely," Vivienne said as she washed her hands off in a basin. Her clothes were torn, her face smudged, but she retained her regal air as she weaved around the other mages in the small space.

"We managed to restore a bit of color to her fingers and nose," Fiona said, placing her hand on Kaitlyn's forehead. "We believe her affinity for ice will help her keep her fingers, but she's still not responding to stimulus in the rest of her extremities. I'll feel better once she opens her eyes."

"... I see." Cullen stepped aside when Dorian came through the tent flaps. "I managed to collect some elfroot. There weren't any poultices left at Haven that I could find."

"Every bit helps, my dear." Vivienne motioned to a small table where he could set them down before raising an eyebrow at him. "Anything else, Commander?"

"I, uh—" He had no real reason to stay. "Can nothing else be done for her?"

"Boss'll be fine," Bull rumbled, a gentle teasing in his tone. "I'm the one you should be worrying about. Stuck here without a snack or drink. And how'm I supposed to take a piss when the time comes? Hmm?"

Cullen glanced to him, grateful for the distraction. "I'm sure we can figure something out with a bottle if nothing else." He chuckled softly at Bull's grimace. Kneeling down in front of Kaitlyn's trunk, Cullen eased the lid open, hoping to find some trinket that he could place beside his coin—something familiar for her to awaken to. A change of clothes, a handful of runes, a small bag of cookies—Cullen smiled at that, recalling the boy who'd run through the snow for sweets—and a book wrapped in velvet.

He peeled back the top layer and his lip curled.

Tale of the Champion.

He set the book back in place with a heavy sigh. He'd never read the novel himself. He had no desire to revisit the ghosts that haunted his dreams in his waking hours, no desire to go through a recounting of six years of his life, of all the things he'd done, and all the things he'd failed to do.