Frost Burn

by K T Munson

  As a member of the Frost Nation’s army, it was his job to protect the queen and her potential successors, Aradel being one of them. Who would have thought the ragged little girl from the Dregs would become a candidate for queen?

  He still remembered when she arrived at the winter palace. Her bright hair was dirty, and in ragged little braids. She had a timid but defiant expression on her face, and he had admired her even then. Now she was a sister to him, and the closest of his friends. Their differences in status and rank had been bridged years ago by her amazing magical gifts. Aradel had traded in her two braids for one very adult one. It was hard to think she had ever been a child because her bearing had always been the same.

  The children around him held tight to his clothes where they could, fearful of what was taking place. Kirill felt strange without his armor, which he’d taken off for their outing. The citizens of Axion gazed at him and the injured and worn crowd of Outlanders. People peered out the windows of their stone homes, which had only curtains to keep the snow out, but allowed the cold in.

  A few people called to Aradel, recognizing her as they would any of the other elite candidates. Most of the elite had taken up duties that the Frost Nation’s aging Queen could no longer fulfill. Their Queendom had always been ruled by women, the strongest amongst them, to protect their great nation.

  Kirill crossed his arms in annoyance as he watched Aradel mingle with the people, trying his best to feel less vulnerable without his armor. The children fanned out behind him like ducklings following their mother. He had to take care not to walk too quickly.

  Aradel glanced back finally, her eyes taking in his expression, and the children’s state, before continuing toward the palace. If they had been anywhere but in the middle of Axion, he surely would have frozen the end of her skirts to the ground as revenge for the amused smile on her face during their outing.

  “Who are they?” one of the children whispered, tugging on his clothes and pointing to the crowd walking with Aradel ahead of him.

  “Outlanders,” he answered, looking down at the towheaded boy. “They live beyond The Wall for parts of the year.”

  “That’s scary,” a raven-haired girl said, tightening the hold she had on her friend.

  “They get to see the world beyond The Wall,” Kirill added, glancing around at their exhausted faces. “Normally it is safe for a few more months before the spring comes.”

  “Did the Fire Nation do it?” one of the girls asked, her little mouth open in fear.

  “I thought the fracturing happened when it was hot outside,” a boy cut in before Kirill could answer. Kirill didn’t have an answer anyway, so he just continued forward, only half listening.

  “It does,” a black-haired boy with sharp features said matter-of-factly. “During the second war, the Fire Nation attacked using temperature against us. They warmed the area around our army and killed them slowly in their sleep. Only the strongest survived!”

  The children peered at the Outlanders, many of whom did not have magic. Lord Drykus, a non-magic user, had likely died for the old woman and the girl. Kirill’s eyes narrowed on the girl as Aradel said something to her. He could sense the magic in her since she had not learned to dampen her aura yet.

  Another person called to Aradel, and he half wished it was any other day, because the streets would be far less crowded. They needed to get to the Queen. Today was the day of reverence, though, on which each family paid homage to the moon. They would make trips throughout the day to their Moon Temple, but then tomorrow work would start again. It was considered shameful to conduct business on Moonday.

  When they finally reached the gates, which were open and hardly guarded, Aradel didn’t even hesitate and marched straight up to them. The upper sections of the palace could only be accessed by creating a bridge of ice. Their enemies in the Fire Nation couldn’t build ice bridges. Besides that, everything in the realm of the palace could protect itself by the Queen’s will with snow and ice.

  “Make arrangements for the citizens of Axion to take them in,” Aradel commanded, as an army of servants met her at the palace. “These two shall remain under my protection,” she added, indicating the elder woman and the child. The servants rushed off to obey. Aradel’s word was one that would be followed.

  One of the teachers hurried forward, worry etched across her face, until she spotted the children surrounding Kirill. Many of them hesitated to let him go with so many strangers around. He looked like an angry grizzly bear with a flock of ducklings on his back as he made his way through the crowd of Outlanders.

  “Children!” she called, opening her arms. “We had better get you home.”

  They made their way around each side of him and through the crowd of people, gravitating to the woman’s familiar face—all but one little girl, who stopped and stared up at him. Her blue eyes seemed unfazed by his frown. She smiled bashfully, admiring him in an awestruck sort of way. “I wanted you to win,” she said before quickly turning and running off to join the rest of the children.

  When he glanced up, Aradel was kneeling in front of the girl with the blue scars on her hand. The old woman was listening carefully as they spoke. When the little girl nodded, Aradel waved Kirill over. Uneasy about what was happening, he quickly moved to join her.

  “The Queen is expecting us,” she said when Kirill drew close enough.

  He nodded, only giving the old woman and the girl a sparing glance before following Aradel into the palace. They walked up the steps to a great open area in which stood a forest made of ice. Kirill could see the two guests gape at it in wonder. Although the palace was open to everyone, few Outlanders ventured this far south. A moon butterfly flapped its wings softly as it settled on a bush. The girl paused a moment to gaze at it, and Kirill wondered if she had ever seen one at night when they gathered to drink from the moonbeams.

  They reached the end of the courtyard where two guards opened the large double doors, allowing access to the Queen. One raised his eyebrow at Kirill’s state of dress, but said nothing. He wouldn’t dare or he would surely catch Kirill’s wrath. Kirill grinned menacingly in his direction to reinforce that worry.

  Up a short flight of steps was a throne of ice. It had sharp edges resembling inverted icicles at the back. Queen Vesna sat there now, expectantly. Her face betrayed her age and her exhaustion. She was still powerful, but she was old. In the coming years, another would take her place. Kirill contemplated the moon pearls draped around her throat as they glowed softly. The moon pearls acted as a crown, and enhanced the natural power of the Queen who wore them. A line of young women stood at the foot of the throne, all of them prospects to take Queen Vesna’s place when the time came.

  “Your Highness,” Kirill, Aradel, and the two Outlanders said and all bowed to her.

  “What brings you all from Lord Drykus’s providence?” the Queen asked. She must have seen them coming from far off.

  “Lord Drykus is dead,” the old woman said. The girl tucked her chin to her own chest. “Spring has come early.”

  “A natural spring?” one of the candidates at the foot of the throne asked, her sharp features betraying her hatred for the Fire Nation.

  “We cannot be sure,” the old woman answered, but her face showed worry and doubt.

  “Aradel, take our guests to the kitchen. They have had a hard journey,” Queen Vesna declared. “The rest of you shall tend to the others as I consider what has happened, and the best course of action to take in the face of the early heat.”

  “As the Queen commands,” they recited, Kirill’s voice deep in comparison to the rest, and everyone went off as instructed.

  “Not you, Kirill.” The Queen stood from her throne as they dispersed, and came down the steps toward him.

  “What do you command of me?” he asked, offering his arm to the aging Queen.

  “Carrier Owls arrived this morning,” Queen Vesna informed him, taking his arm. “Our traders to the north have sent word that Queen Darha was se
en along the river bank. I need you to be my eyes, see what the purpose is in her being there.”

  “Do you worry they are behind this?” Kirill asked, his voice pitched low for fear of being overheard.

  “I worry there will be war in my lifetime,” Queen Vesna replied, her face filled with wisdom. “If I do not find the truth behind it, word of her presence will spread and poison already distrustful hearts due to the warmth in the Outlands.”

  “You don’t think they are behind it?” Kirill asked, surprised. Even he wondered if the Fire Nation had a hand in this. Now he wondered further about Queen Darha’s presence among the River Gora.

  “I think if we are going to lose hundreds of our people to another war, I want to be sure,” Queen Vesna said. “I will not allow blame to be placed, when it could just be a simple coincidence she’s seen on the river bank in this heat. Go and find me proof.” The Queen stopped and released his arm before turning down a hall.

  He bowed. “As the Queen commands.”

  Fire: Chapter Four

  Thea ran her long dark brown braid through her fist, pulling it over her shoulder as she gazed up at the graying sky with concern. Seeing the cloud movement and smelling the air, she realized this storm was moving quickly. It would be about thirteen minutes before the rain fell, and the last of the lower region evacuees were still an hour away from Vlid, where the safe houses were being prepared. They were going to need to use the leather tarps to stay safe in the rain.

  “Lady Thea,” someone called, getting her attention. A person branched out from the line of evacuees on the road, two more following, and came toward where she stood on the water’s edge. Thea recognized the robes of the regional leaders. A decorative collar of woven elaborate gold designs encircled the front of the chest and neck before going over the shoulders and down the back of each red robe. Below the designs, the fronts of the robes were plain.

  “Lord Guyus,” Thea said, nodding. “Lady Orn. Lady Waik.” They were the three regional leaders of the southern provinces that were being evacuated now. “I hope you had your people prepare tarps.”

  Lord Guyus nodded. “These days, we rarely overlook any precaution.”

  “Can’t blame you for that.”

  “All of the magic wielders are bringing up the rear as well, so you know.”

  Thea eyed him, impressed. “Smart. Well done.”

  That meant she could worry less about the evacuees, since the fire wielders could keep themselves warm in cold rain. Having the non-magic users leave first, they were likely to beat the rain to the safe houses, and the tarps wouldn’t be necessary. Those things could be heavy and clumsy in any situation, especially a windy one, never mind during an emergency evacuation in a storm.

  Guyus, who was in his mid-twenties, was the youngest regional leader in the Fire Nation. He was tall but youthful looking, almost childlike, with short dark copper red hair that was longer in the front than the back. He had a defined jaw structure that made him handsome, but he was no silly fool. He led his region with kindness and strength, and his people liked him. Orn was a lady in her mid-forties with long, thin blonde hair and no lack of lovely silver streaks that fanned against her shoulders. Since her mid-twenties, she had been elected each year as regional leader. Waik was in her late thirties with straight, short, steel black hair mixed with white. She was the sternest of the regional leaders, less enjoyed by the people and more just respected. She wasn’t unkind—just not overly kind.

  “Lady Thea,” Guyus said, drawing her attention again. His voice dropped from the light tone of a politician, to a deeply worried one that was matched by the worry in his light brown eyes. “Do you know what’s happening?”

  Thea sighed and shook her head then nodded toward the Derser Rects. “Hopefully they’re going to figure it out.”

  It was a couple of minutes before the Dersers finished packing up their equipment and started toward her. “We have everything we need,” the temple leader, Dorsh, declared.

  Thea nodded. “Thank you, Rector,” she said, addressing him by his formal title. “Please get yourself and your team home safely, so you can figure out why the world is collapsing around us.” Dorsh nodded once, and the Derser Rects headed for the evacuation line and climbed into a waiting carriage.

  To her left, Thea saw the western scouts returning from the bridge. Her heart started racing. “Excuse me,” she said to the regional leaders, staying as professional as she could as she hurried to meet the scouts without running. She didn’t want to worry the remaining evacuees. The regional leaders unexpectedly followed her. Thea didn’t have the time or the mindset to tell them to stay put, so she let them come. People were desperate for answers, so it was understandable.

  “Fitzu,” she called to the front man as he dismounted. He was tall and handsome, with wide shoulders. He had short, spiky, raven black hair and a well-trimmed black goatee that matched his leather scouting armor. His dark gray eyes were serious as Thea approached him. “Tell me you’ve got good news.”

  Fitzu sighed. “The bridge is still intact.” Thea’s pulse quickened. “But not for long.” Her heart sank. “When this storm ends, it will be gone.”

  Thea let out a heavy breath. She looked out over the wild River Gora, a river so wide that the Frost Nation to the south couldn’t even be seen with the naked eye as more than a faint purple line along the horizon. That bridge had to be saved, and the Frost Nation probably didn’t even have a clue it was in danger. They were completely useless, like they always had been.

  Thea pinched her bottom lip and looked down at the ground. It was only seven minutes before the rain would come. Both nations had built the two bridges together 500 years ago, after the war to make sure they could still trade, even if hostilely. It had taken fire magic to molten stone and manipulate the lava to make the bridge, and ice and snow magic to cool it properly so it would harden and keep its shape without cracking.

  A desperate idea came to her as she glanced up. She had to do something. “Your wisdom of evacuating the magic users last may have just saved our nation,” she said to the regional leaders. Their brows dropped in confusion. “Rally them,” Thea said. “All of them. The rain is coming in six minutes. Tell them to start blazing their cores, and get them horses wherever you can find some, and have them follow me.” All three nodded and left to follow orders without question.

  “What’s in your head, Thea?” Fitzu asked in a warning tone.

  “Saving that bridge,” she replied and began to blaze her own core, heating up her skin so hot that an orange aura of fire magic lightly haloed her body and the cold rain couldn’t hurt her. The water would evaporate with a hiss and a puff of steam as soon as it touched her.

  “Thea,” Fitzu said doubtfully, as his skin started to glow. “It’s a thirty-minute ride up the riverbank. That only leaves three and a half hours of constant magic use to try to save this bridge before our magic quits and we have to rest. After that, without our magic to blaze our cores, the cold rain will kill us all. I don’t fancy being turned into stone.”

  Thea gave him an impatient, angry glare. “I’m well aware of how our people’s magic works, Fitzu.” She took a step toward him. “But I couldn’t live with myself if we didn’t at least try. As much as I hate it, and hate the Frost Nation, we need that bridge to trade with them.”

  Fitzu shrugged. “Do you see me glowing orange?” He asked flatly, indicating he already knew he wouldn’t be able to talk Thea out of trying to save that bridge. Thea smirked at him and gave him a nod. Her men knew her so well.

  The rain had already started by the time all two hundred and fifty magic users were rallied, on horseback and heading west along the river bank. Guyus, Orn, and Waik were even riding along, their titles and ranks forgotten, niceties and protocols abandoned; everyone was just a person trying to save his or her nation right now.

  A half hour later, Thea and the party arrived at the bridge. The sight was shocking, devastating. Thea pulled on her horse’s reigns
so tightly that she nearly caused him to rear up. The water was almost level with the bridge, and raging waves were already crashing along its sides, and exploding over the top of the stone.

  One look and Thea realized she wasn’t going to be able to just thicken the top so it didn’t flood. She would have to strengthen the very foundation which was already missing huge pieces and swaying.

  “What do we do, Thea?” Fitzu called over the crashing waves and pouring rain. He was cloaked in his own halo of steam, like everyone else, as the rain water sizzled off their burning skin.

  Thea clenched her teeth and dismounted. “Everyone! To me!” she cried over the roaring river. She pulled at the throat of her red cloak, taking it off, and threw it over her horse’s neck, out of the way.

  The entire party dismounted and went to stand in front of her. “The foundation is breaking,” Thea began. “The bridge will wash away if we don’t strengthen it. Flooding we can deal with because at least there will still be a bridge to cross. Without the freezing magic of the Frost Nation, I want you to use the water as a cooling agent after you heat the stone. Yes! I realize the water is wild, but therein lays the challenge. Make that water evaporate so it stays out of your way while you heat the stone. Lessen your heat gradually to allow the water to cool and harden it, layer by layer. Normally, the frost people have conscious, intimate knowledge of how to cool the stone with their magic, but apparently, they’re taking a sick day today.” Thea rolled her eyes as the crowd shook their heads and glanced around at each other.

  “I’m going to be honest,” Thea continued. “It might not work.” Eyes darkened and shoulders in the crowd drooped. “But we have to try anyway.” Resolve came back into the fire wielders as they nodded in agreement. “Keep a constant report of your progress, or lack of progress, to your respective leaders and commanders. Leaders and commanders, keep me informed in turn. If this becomes too difficult, I’ll make the call to quit, and we’ll all head for home with our magic reserves able to keep us safe from the rain. We’ll figure things out then. For now, we have to save this bridge!”