The wind howled across the white valley, carrying whispers of a storm yet to come. Snowflakes drifted gently from the pale sky, melting the moment they touched the faintly glowing barrier that surrounded the small wooden cabin. Inside, two siblings huddled near a fading fire — their world outside in ruins.
"Haneul, the fire's dying again…" the girl murmured softly. Her name was Miyu, her long black hair tangled from days without rest. She hugged a tattered blanket close, her eyes reflecting the weak embers.
Her brother, Haneul, glanced up from the window where he'd been watching the mountains. He was only seventeen, yet his gaze carried the weight of someone twice his age. "I'll find more wood," he said, standing up and pulling on his worn coat.
Miyu grabbed his sleeve, worry flickering in her eyes. "The storm's getting worse. You'll freeze—"
"I'll be fine," Haneul interrupted gently. "You know I always am."
He smiled, the same way he always did when he wanted to hide his fear. Then he pushed open the door and stepped into the blinding snow.
---
The village of Sorayama had been silent for days. Houses buried in white, smoke rising from none of them. The war between humans and spirits had reached even this far corner of the kingdom, leaving nothing untouched.
Haneul's breath misted as he trudged through the drifts, his hands glowing faintly blue — the mark of his curse. Every time he used magic, frost spread across his veins. The villagers once called him a spirit-born, a child of both worlds. That was before they turned against him.
He found a half-collapsed shed and broke apart what remained of its roof for firewood. His fingers stung as ice crept up his wrist, but he kept going. For Miyu, he always kept going.
---
When he returned, Miyu was waiting by the door, her small frame trembling. She ran to him, her relief clear. "You're freezing!" she said, brushing the snow from his shoulders.
He laughed quietly. "Told you I'd be fine."
Miyu frowned, noticing the frost crawling up his arm. "You used it again, didn't you?"
Haneul looked away. "Only a little. The spirits are still near. I can feel them moving toward the mountains."
"Then we should leave," she said, voice firm despite the fear. "We can't stay here anymore."
He hesitated — but she was right. The barrier wouldn't last another night.
He knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and said softly, "Then we'll go together. Always together, right?"
Miyu nodded, her eyes glimmering. "Always."
---
That night, under the flicker of the dying fire, they packed what little they had — a cracked compass, a blade dull from use, and a silver pendant their mother had left them.
As dawn approached, the storm quieted, leaving behind a still, endless white. The siblings stepped out into the cold, their breath mingling in the air.
Behind them, the cabin collapsed under the weight of snow. Ahead, in the far distance, faint lights shimmered in the mist — the Spirit Capital, where the truth of their bloodline awaited.
Miyu reached for her brother's hand. "Do you think… we'll find them there? The ones who can break your curse?"
Haneul smiled faintly, his breath fogging the air. "If we don't, then I'll make them."
And together, they walked toward the horizon — two souls against a broken world, bound by love stronger than magic itself.