The morning sun was a pale, diffused disk behind a curtain of swirling snow. Kael and Lira trudged through the wasteland, their cloaks pulled tightly around them against the icy wind. The frost clung to everything: trees bent under its weight, stones glittered like shards of broken glass, and the air itself seemed to bite at their skin.
Kael's cursed hand still ached from the fight with the frostbeast. He flexed his fingers, watching the black frost recede into his veins. It felt like a part of him now—alive, restless, and waiting for the next opportunity to strike.
Lira glanced at him as they walked, her sharp gaze missing nothing. "You're getting better at controlling that," she said, her tone matter-of-fact.
Kael grunted. "I don't have much of a choice."
"Still, it is impressive. Most people would not survive carrying something like that."
Kael shot her a wary look. "And you know this because.?"
Lira smirked. "Let's just say I have seen my share of cursed souls. Some of them did not last too long."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Kael wanted to press her, to ask what she meant, but the look on her face told him he wouldn't get any answers.
The medallion in his pack pulsed again, faint but insistent, like a heartbeat. Kael felt its warmth even through the layers of fabric. It had been guiding him for weeks, though he still didn't know where-or why.
"How far to the next village?" he asked, changing the subject.
Lira scanned the horizon, her expression thoughtful. "A day, maybe two. If we don't run into trouble."
Kael sighed. "Trouble seems to follow me."
Lira chuckled. "I've noticed."
They walked in silence for a while, the snow crunching beneath their boots. The landscape was bleak and unforgiving, a sea of white stretching endlessly in every direction. Kael couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
Lira nodded, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "We're not alone."
Kael scanned the horizon, his eyes narrowing. At first, he saw nothing-just the endless snow and the occasional jagged rock. But then, movement caught his eye. Dark shapes flitted between the trees, barely visible against the storm.
"Frostbound soldiers," Lira said quietly, her voice tense.
Kael's blood ran cold. The Frostbound Order had been hunting him for years, and he knew exactly what they were capable of.
"How many?" he asked.
"Too many," Lira said. She spun toward him, her eyes solemn. "We need to go. Now."
The boots crunched louder and swifter through the ground. It whistled around them, tattering the very air. Whispers in the air that sounded farther away caught up with it.
His cursed hand tingled, as though the black frost was stirred in response to his mounting alarm. He clenched a fist in his lap and forced it back down again.
"Is there outrunning them?.
Lira shook her head. "Not for long. They'll catch up eventually. We need to find cover."
Kael scanned the landscape, searching for anything that could serve as shelter. His eyes fell on a cluster of jagged rocks jutting out of the snow like the spines of some long-dead creature.
"There," he said, pointing.
Lira followed his gaze and nodded. "It's not much, but it'll have to do."
They reached the boulders and crouched behind them, the breath visible in the freezing air. Kael drew his sword, his cursed hand tingling with anticipation. Lira unsheathed her own blade, the movements quick and practiced.
The dark shapes grew closer, their forms coalescing into armored figures. The Frostbound soldiers moved with precision, their black-and-silver uniforms blending seamlessly into the snow.
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. There were at least a dozen of them, maybe more.
"Stay low," Lira whispered.
Kael nodded, tightening his grip on his sword. The medallion in his pack pulsed again, stronger this time, as if it were reacting to the soldiers' presence.
The first soldier came into view, his face hidden by a mask of beaten metal. He carried an ice-tipped spear that glimmered with a faint light in the dullness.
Kael felt the stirring of the black frost inside, urging him into action. He looked toward Lira, who returned his look with a sharp nod.
"Wait for my signal," she whispered.
The soldiers shifted closer, their boots crunching against the snow. Kael's cursed hand throbbed, the frost crawling up his arm like something alive. He struggled to keep it contained, to focus on the weight of his sword in his other hand.
As the soldiers closed in to within a few steps of them, Lira acted.
She sprang from cover, her blade flashing in the pale light. The first soldier barely had time to react before she cut him down, her movements swift and precise.
Kael followed, the black frost surging to life in his hand. He thrust it toward the nearest soldier, and a shard of corrupted ice shot forward, piercing the man's armor.
The soldiers yelled in alarm, their formation breaking as they wheeled toward the unexpected attack.
Kael and Lira fought side by side, almost in perfect sync. Lira's sword danced through the air, cutting down soldier after soldier, while Kael's cursed hand launched a storm of dark ice that froze his enemies where they stood.
But they just kept coming. For every one they defeated, it seemed like two more took its place.
"We can't hold them off forever!" Kael yelled, his breath visible in the freezing air.
Lira parried a spear thrust, her face grim. "Then we make a run for it!"
Kael nodded, his cursed hand flaring with one final burst of black frost. The ice spread out in a jagged wave, forcing the soldiers to retreat.
"Go!" Lira shouted.
They turned and ran, their boots crunching against the snow. The soldiers' shouts faded into the distance, but Kael knew they wouldn't give up so easily.
As they ran, the medallion in Kael's pack pulsed again, its warmth cutting through the cold. He glanced at Lira, who was breathing heavily but still moving with determination.
"What now?" he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes sharp. "Now we survive."
The wind howled around them, carrying with it the promise of more dangers to come. But for the first time in years, Kael didn't feel completely alone.
The medallion's pulse quickened, its warmth spreading throughout him. Somewhere from above, a voice whispered,
"Keep moving, Kael. The cold hasn't claimed you yet."