Fates little joke

Seth sat staring blankly at the dying ashes that once held the body of his love. The fire had died after two days. He sat there the whole time guarding her body to the end and fighting off death’s whisper that threatened to claim him as well. The weather had turned worse and snow began to fall. It covered his armored body and left a film on the ground. The cold mattered not to him it merely tried to echo the frozen wasteland in his body and mind. He leaned against his sword for support for the days with out food or sleep had left him powerless and exhausted. When the last ember died he struggled to his feet and shook the feeling back into his hands. The pain that he felt in them was a welcome sensation to the deep loss and empty feeling he felt all over. His muscles fought him and his joints creaked as he stood straight and limped to the pile of ashes. He knelt again and buried his hands in the blackened pile. He scooped some of it into a bag and tried to stand again. His body failed and he fell on his side gasping for air. His mind spiraled into thoughts of death as he struggled for reasons to move. Why move I will join her in oblivion. He chased those thoughts out of his head and pushed himself up onto his elbows. His plate mail felt like a ton on his back. Snow covered his body and frost formed around his mouth and nose. The world shrank and turned into a tunnel and he felt consciousness slip from him. I will sleep now my work is done let death come for me.