Iubris

The boy was so cold. Arms wrapped around himself, he shivered in the thick clothing he possessed, teeth chattering, eyes furrowed, determined to keep his heart beating. Yet no matter how heated his determination was, no matter how his anger kept his limbs working, Sergeant Miles wasn't immortal. The chill nipped at his flesh, sucked at his soul, but he clung to whatever little sanity he had left. It was past midnight, sometime early in the morning, but he would never be able to tell. Fort Briggs, the North, was a place where the Devil came to play. To cackle, tease and mock the weak fools who forced their tired limbs up the countless mountai