It was a cold, dark night.

A lone girl was trudging through a snowstorm, wearing nothing but a ragged white dress. She panted as she walked, her fragile breath growing weaker with every step.

The blizzard was powerful. Little chunks of snow fell from the sky in chaotic patterns, as it pelted the girl's body as she walked, The bitter cold stinging her pale skin, making her tired bones ache even more.

She was roughed up. She had blood dripping from her forehead, as well as various bruises and scrapes scattered all over her petite body.

As she exhaled a frozen cloud of tired breath, she tightened her grip on the trident she had been holding. It was all she had left. A faint warmth emanated from the weapon, but it wasn't nearly enough to be a good source of heat.

There was no way anyone could make it through this storm, she knew that from the start.

Yet even so, she continued walking.

For she had made a promise...

...And she wasn't too keen on giving it up.