The clash of steel and the screech of the Frostfiends echoed through the narrow pass, muffled only by the relentless storm swirling around them. Kaelen's breath came in sharp gasps, visible in the freezing air as he parried another swipe from one of the ice-beasts. The Frostfiend's jagged claws raked across his sword with a sound like grinding glass. He twisted his blade and drove it deep into the creature's chest. With a shriek, it shattered into a shower of ice shards.
All around him, the others were locked in combat. Sir Eamon stood at the center of their formation, his shield raised against the creatures' attacks. His sword flashed in the dim light as he cut down one Frostfiend after another, his experience and strength evident in every strike. Aeliana moved with fluid grace, her hands tracing symbols in the air as she unleashed waves of fire and light. Each time one of her spells hit, the creatures screamed and melted away into the snow.
But the Frostfiends were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless as they emerged from the storm. For every one they defeated, two more seemed to rise from the snow, their glowing blue eyes filled with malevolent hunger.
Kaelen gritted his teeth as another Frostfiend lunged at him. He ducked beneath its claws and slashed upward, severing its arm. The creature howled in pain, but before Kaelen could finish it, a blast of ice struck him from the side, knocking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. The cold seeped into his bones as he struggled to rise, his sword slipping from his grasp.
A shadow loomed over him. One of the larger Frostfiends, its claws raised to strike, its breath freezing the air around it. Kaelen reached for his sword, but it was just out of reach, buried in the snow.
Just as the creature lunged, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the pass. Ylara stepped forward, her hands glowing with a pale, icy light. She moved with a dancer's grace, her every motion flowing like water, and as she raised her hands, the air around her seemed to freeze solid. The Frostfiend shrieked and recoiled as Ylara unleashed her power, a beam of shimmering light cutting through the storm and striking the creature dead center.
The Frostfiend froze in place, its body encased in a thick layer of ice, and with a flick of Ylara's wrist, it shattered into a thousand pieces.
Ylara's eyes blazed with cold fury as she stepped past Kaelen, her hands glowing with raw elemental power. "Stay down," she commanded, her voice as cold as the ice she wielded.
Kaelen, his breath coming in ragged gasps, nodded and scrambled back to his feet. Around him, the Frostfiends began to hesitate, sensing the shift in power. Ylara was not just any ordinary warrior—she was a Frostwarden, and the magic she commanded was far older and far more powerful than the creatures of ice and shadow.
With a sweeping gesture, Ylara summoned a wave of ice that surged forward, engulfing the remaining Frostfiends. The creatures screamed as the ice closed in around them, freezing them in place. One by one, they shattered, their broken forms dissolving into the snow.
Within moments, the battle was over. The storm howled around them, but the pass was silent save for the wind. The Frostfiends were gone, their icy bodies scattered across the ground in glittering shards.
Kaelen stood still for a moment, catching his breath and taking stock of their situation. The others were alive, though bloodied and weary. Sir Eamon lowered his sword, wiping the sweat from his brow despite the cold. Aeliana stood nearby, her hands still glowing faintly with the remnants of her magic.
Ylara surveyed the battlefield with a cold, calculating gaze. "The Frostfiends are the least of the dangers we will face in these mountains," she said quietly. "The deeper we go, the stronger the elemental magic will become. You must be prepared."
Sir Eamon sheathed his sword and stepped toward her. "You fought well, Frostwarden. Without you, we wouldn't have survived."
Ylara nodded, though her expression remained distant. "The ice is my domain. These creatures are born of it, but they are not its masters. The dragon of ice is far stronger than these, and the closer we come to its resting place, the more the elements will test us."
Kaelen, still catching his breath, stepped forward. "How do we know the dragon of ice will even help us? What if it sees us as enemies, like the Frostfiends did?"
Ylara's eyes softened slightly, though her voice remained cool. "The dragons are not mindless beasts. They are beings of immense power and intelligence, bound to the elements of the world. But they are also proud, and they do not bend easily to the will of mortals. The dragon of ice will test you, Kaelen. Whether it accepts you or rejects you depends on your strength—both in body and in spirit."
Kaelen felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his shoulders. He had already bonded with the dragon of fire, but this would be different. The dragon of ice was a creature of cold, distant and calculating, and it would not be as forgiving as the one he had found beneath Eldorath.
"We have no choice," Sir Eamon said, his voice firm. "The prophecy speaks of two dragons—one of fire, one of ice. If we're going to stop the Dark One, we need both of them."
Ylara's gaze flickered toward Kaelen. "He is right. The dragons must rise again if the realms are to survive the coming darkness. But the pact between dragons and riders is not something that can be forced. It must be earned."
Kaelen swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the cold. "What do I have to do?"
Ylara looked at him for a long moment before answering. "You must face the dragon. Alone. It will not accept you with others by your side. The bond between a dragon and its rider is forged through trial and challenge. Only then can it be sealed."
Kaelen's heart pounded in his chest. "Alone?"
Ylara nodded. "The dragon will not harm you unless it deems you unworthy. But the challenge will be great. You will face the cold in its purest form. You will face your own fears and doubts. If you are strong enough, the dragon will accept you. If not…" She let the words hang in the air.
Kaelen felt a knot form in his stomach, but he forced himself to stand tall. "I'll do it. I'll face the dragon."
Aeliana stepped forward, her expression concerned. "Kaelen, you don't have to do this. We can find another way—"
"No," Kaelen interrupted, his voice firmer than he felt. "This is the only way. The dragon of fire chose me. If the prophecy is real, then the dragon of ice will, too."
Sir Eamon nodded approvingly, though his eyes were filled with worry. "We'll be nearby, Kaelen. But remember, you must face this alone."
Ylara turned and gestured toward the towering mountains ahead. "We are close. The dragon's resting place lies at the heart of the Elemental Peaks, deep within the Ice Cavern. Follow me."
The group moved forward, climbing higher into the mountains. The air grew colder with each step, and the snow fell harder, swirling around them in blinding gusts. The path narrowed as they climbed, forcing them to dismount and lead their horses through the steep, icy terrain.
Finally, they reached the entrance to a massive cavern carved into the side of the mountain. The mouth of the cave was wide and dark, its entrance rimmed with jagged icicles that hung like teeth. The cold radiating from within was intense, far beyond anything they had encountered so far.
"This is it," Ylara said, her voice barely audible over the wind. "The dragon of ice rests within. Kaelen, this is where you must go alone."
Kaelen nodded, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He stepped forward, his breath visible in the freezing air. The cavern loomed before him like the maw of some great beast, and as he approached, he felt the cold seep into his bones, deeper than before.
"Be careful," Aeliana whispered, her eyes filled with concern.
Kaelen gave her a small nod, then turned and walked into the darkness of the Ice Cavern, his heart heavy with the weight of what was to come.
As he ventured deeper into the cave, the cold grew more intense. The walls of the cavern were lined with thick sheets of ice, and the air itself seemed to hum with raw elemental power. His footsteps echoed in the vast, empty space, and his breath came in short, labored gasps.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kaelen stepped into a massive chamber at the heart of the mountain. The floor was a frozen lake of crystal-clear ice, and the ceiling rose high above him, disappearing into darkness. At the far end of the chamber, curled atop a massive mound of frost-covered stone, was the dragon.
Its scales were the color of pure ice, shimmering with a cold, bluish hue. Its massive wings were folded against its body, and its eyes—glowing with an eerie, pale light—were locked on Kaelen as he entered the chamber.
Kaelen's breath caught in his throat. The dragon was enormous, far larger than the one he had found beneath Eldorath. Its presence filled the cavern, the cold radiating from it like a living force.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, the dragon spoke.
"You seek the pact of the riders," it said, its voice echoing in Kaelen's mind. "But the cold does not bend to the weak. Show me your strength, or be consumed."
The challenge had begun.