The sky over the Flameborn Mountains turned to ash as we soared above them, our destination etched in snow and shadow beyond the eastern ridge. The horizon ahead was a jagged blend of grey clouds and icy peaks, marking the transition from the warmth of our homeland to the unforgiving chill of the Frostlands. Behind us, Ashmere still burned like a beacon in the distance. Before us, the land of silence awaited.
I stood atop Skyflare, the great flamebeast whose wings spanned nearly the breadth of a small village. Its body shimmered with molten veins beneath obsidian scales, and each beat of its wings left trails of fire crackling in the cold air. Skyflare was more than a mount it was a guardian of old, bound by ancient rites to the Flamebearers and reborn in fire when the Sixth Spark had chosen me.
The air grew colder with every league we passed.
Kaela sat behind me, crouched like a sentinel, her twin sabers strapped across her back, her eyes constantly scanning the snow-covered world below. Dareth, braced to my left on the saddle rig, held his flameblade Virell loosely in one hand, the other hand gripping a tether in case Skyflare banked sharply. No one spoke. We were too close now to whatever lay ahead.
Every gust of wind was sharper than the last. Our magical wards, powered by Emberstones sewn into our gear, flickered with strain as we crossed the invisible boundary into the Frostlands.
And then we felt it.
A pulse.
Not from below but from within the sky itself. A pressure. A warning.
The Frostlands Awaken
The Frostlands were not simply cold they were sentient. The land breathed, watched, waited. The Empire's magicians had reshaped parts of the region into traps, making snowstorms appear from nothing, summoning silence where sound should exist.
Even Skyflare flinched in the air, its massive wings faltering slightly as it growled low in its throat.
"They know we're here," Dareth said, his voice carried to me by an enchantment woven into our earwraps.
"They want us to land," I replied.
Kaela leaned forward. "Then let's not disappoint them."
We banked sharply, descending through the clouds toward a narrow, ice-covered ridge just beyond the Whispering Glade a gorge so still and quiet it was said to steal voices from the living. As we neared the surface, I extended my hand and whispered a command.
"Bratheon."
Skyflare responded instantly, flames rolling down its spine as it prepared to land. With a ground-shaking thud, its claws gripped the frozen earth, melting the snow beneath its talons.
We dismounted quickly.
The moment our boots hit the ground, the snowstorm began.
The Ambush
It wasn't natural. The snow didn't fall from the sky it swirled into being, conjured by invisible runes activated the moment we touched the ridge. Visibility dropped within seconds. The wind roared, not with sound, but with intention. It screamed into our bones.
And through the white veil, they came.
Imperial Wraithguard.
Figures clad in silver-blue armor that shimmered like ice. Masks that covered their faces, shaped like wolves, their breath visible even through the enchanted froststeel. They made no sound. No cry of attack. No clashing steel.
They simply appeared.
Kaela moved first.
Her sabers flashed into existence, curved blades glowing with internal flame. She became a blur of motion, striking down one Wraithguard before another could blink. Dareth spun to face the opposite side, Virell igniting with a deep roar as it clove through one of their frostblades, melting it in midair.
I extended both hands, calling forth the Spark.
"Valtara ignis!"
The ground beneath us exploded in concentric rings of flame, sending snow into the air like geysers. Steam hissed, turning the battlefield into a boiling mist.
Still they came.
Still they attacked.
Their weapons drained heat. Their strikes chilled the marrow.
I deflected a glaive strike with a blast of flame from my palm, but more shadows emerged. One Wraithguard hurled a chain made of spectral frost, latching onto my leg. I roared and unleashed a pillar of fire that melted the chain and the snow for ten paces.
Kaela appeared beside me.
"Too many!" she shouted.
"No," I said, stepping forward, "just enough."
I unleashed the Flame Wall.
Fire erupted in a spiral, sweeping the ridge and forcing the Wraithguard back. For a moment, we stood amid a field of scorched snow, panting, surrounded by blackened armor and frozen smoke.
And then she appeared.
The Frost Eye Revealed
The storm parted as though bowing to her presence.
A woman walked through the haze, tall and regal, her cloak trailing ice behind her. She wore no mask. Her face was beautiful, but inhuman sharp cheekbones, silver eyes, and skin pale as winter's breath. Atop her brow sat a circlet of froststeel, carved with runes that shimmered like dying stars.
"Flamebearer," she said with a smile that held no warmth. "We meet at last."
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"Commander Lysara. Frost Eye of the Third Conclave."
Dareth stepped forward. "That title means nothing in Flameborn lands."
She ignored him.
"I came to give you something," she said.
She raised her hand.
A crystal rose from the snow, hovering midair. Within it, a flicker of flame swirled trapped, struggling.
The Spark within me shuddered.
"The Mirror," I whispered.
"Not all of it," Lysara said. "A sliver. The rest... broke."
"You're lying."
She smiled again. "It tried to speak your name. And in doing so, it fractured itself. The truth you seek is scattered in the ice."
"Why show me this?"
"Because I wanted to see your face when you realized your destiny has already failed."
She crushed the crystal in her palm.
A blast of cold surged outward.
And in that echo I heard my name.
Twisted.
Corrupted.
"Your fire won't save you," she whispered.
Then she vanished into the snow, taking the remaining Wraithguard with her. The storm dissipated. The ridge fell quiet once more.
We stood in the silence, steam rising from the scorched snow around us.
Kaela sheathed her blades without a word.
Dareth cursed. "They planned this. They wanted us to see what they did."
"She's not the real enemy," I said.
Kaela looked at me. "Then who is?"
"The one who taught her to break flame with frost."
I turned toward Skyflare.
The time for chasing had ended.
Now, we would hunt.