Page 14 of Frostforge, Passage Four

Frost crept like delicate spiderwebs across the high windows of the cryomancy hall, painting intricate patterns that distorted the pale winter light.

Thalia sat rigid at her desk, the chill of the stone bench seeping through her uniform despite the layers of wool and leather.

Her fingers, bare of frost gloves for the lecture portion of the class, had grown numb — not from the cold, but from how tightly she'd been gripping her quill for the past hour, scratching meaningless symbols into her notebook while her mind circled endlessly around Luna's discovery.

Someone with influence was working to divide the academy. Someone they might have trusted.

"The third form creates a lattice pattern," Instructor Virek's voice cut through the hall, precise and brittle as the ice he commanded. "When executed properly, it will redirect hostile magic along predetermined pathways, dispersing its force before it can reach its target."

His skeletal fingers traced symbols in the air, leaving shimmering trails of frost that hung suspended before dissolving into mist. The thin scars of frostbite marked his hands like pale rivers on a map — evidence of a lifetime spent pushing the boundaries of cryomancy.

Thalia should have been captivated; this was advanced defensive magic, crucial for survival against Isle Warden attacks.

Instead, she found herself studying Virek himself — the sharp angles of his face, the precise way he enunciated each technical term, the slight Northern accent that hardened his consonants.

"The conduit must remain unbroken," Virek continued, his whispering voice barely audible at the back of the room. "A single flaw in your formation will create a weakness that…."

Could he be the intended recipient of the message Luna had intercepted?

A message tied to a gull's leg rather than a raven's — coastal origin, not from the heart of the Reaches, but gulls could be caught anywhere near the sea.

Thalia's gaze narrowed on Virek's face. What did she really know about him?

His loyalty had never been questioned, but the same had been true of Maven before her betrayal.

"Greenspire."

Thalia's head snapped up, heat flooding her cheeks. Virek's icy gaze pinned her from across the room.

"Perhaps you would care to demonstrate the technique I've just described?"

The silence that followed pressed against her ears. Her mouth went dry. Not a single word of the lecture had penetrated her preoccupied mind.

"I—"

"Partner exercises," Virek announced abruptly, turning away from her with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Pair up. Practice the third form deflection. I expect precision, not approximation."

Relief washed through Thalia like a thaw. The room erupted into motion, students rising from their benches, frost gloves being pulled from pockets and bags. She exhaled slowly, gathering her scattered thoughts. Virek moved between the desks, assigning partnerships with curt gestures.

"Redwood, Greenspire." Virek pointed between Ashe and Thalia without looking at either of them. "Back corner."

Thalia met Ashe's eyes across the room and found no judgment there — just a quiet understanding.

Ashe's tall frame rose gracefully from her seat, her black and red-streaked hair pulled back in a practical braid that emphasized the sharp angles of her face.

She gathered her frost gloves and moved toward the practice area without waiting.

As Thalia collected her own things, she caught sight of Levi giving Brynn an enormous look of gratitude as Virek paired them together.

No surprise there — Brynn was the class's top cryomancer, and Levi had always struggled with the precision required for ice magic.

More interesting was Morrigan's thinly veiled displeasure at being matched with Roran, despite his known proficiency.

The animosity toward Roran had grown since Wolfe's warning about increased Isle Warden activity. The timing was almost too perfect — as if someone had orchestrated it to fan the flames of suspicion against him. At this point, Thalia wouldn’t be surprised if this, too, was a calculated play to undermine the unity of the students.

"You didn't hear a word of that lecture, did you?" Ashe asked when Thalia reached their assigned corner. Her voice was low, matter-of-fact, without accusation.

Thalia tugged on her frost gloves, flexing her fingers against the enchanted material. The runes stitched into the leather and fur lining pulsed faintly, ready to channel and protect.

"Was it that obvious?" she murmured.

"Only to someone who was looking." Ashe positioned herself in the starting stance. "Watch first."

Ashe's form was flawless — her movements precise and economical as she traced the patterns Virek had demonstrated. Ice crystallized in the air before her, forming an intricate lattice structure that glimmered in the cold light. Nothing flashy or dramatic, just clean, efficient cryomancy.

Thalia mirrored her, focusing on the way Ashe's arms moved, the angle of her wrists, the positioning of her feet.

Ice responded to her own gestures, but her lattice was uneven, the pattern irregular.

Still, it was a starting point. Thalia had always struggled with cryomancy; even on her best days, she rarely accomplished the forms on her first try.

"Again," Ashe said simply.

They worked side by side in relative quiet, their breath fogging the air between repetitions. The chill deepened around them as their magic pulled the ambient heat from the air. Sweat beaded along Thalia's hairline despite the cold — cryomancy always demanded a paradoxical exchange of energy.

"Better," Ashe noted after Thalia's fifth attempt produced a more stable structure. "Rest a moment."

Thalia lowered her hands, flexing her fingers inside the frost gloves. The drain of continuous practice had left her light-headed. She leaned against the stone wall, its cold seeping through her uniform.

Ashe didn't rest. Instead, she moved to stand beside Thalia, her green eyes scanning the room with deliberate attention. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"If you’re worried about that note Luna brought back, you ought to be watching the skies."

Thalia's pulse quickened; Luna must have shared her findings with Ashe, as well. "What do you mean?"

"Ravens. From the Reaches. Clan elders are sending them." Ashe's gaze remained fixed on the other pairs practicing across the hall. "They've been coming all week. I received one myself."

Thalia studied Ashe's profile, the proud set of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. "What did it say?"

"That Southern leadership is undermining Northern traditions at Frostforge." Ashe's voice hardened. "That Instructor Marr's appointment is an insult to Northern instructors who have dedicated their lives to the academy. That Calloway's Command Challenge puts too much authority in Southern hands."

The pieces clicked into place in Thalia's mind — the night she and Luna had overheard Einar and the others whispering in the common area, plotting to "teach the Southerners a lesson." They must have sent word home to their clans, informing them of the changes at Frostforge, complaining.

"The messages urge students from the Reaches to 'reassert the North's dignity,'" Ashe continued. "To undermine Marr and the Southern fourth-years leading squads."

Like me , Thalia thought, remembering the hostility from Rasmus and Sigrid. And Roran… Luna… Levi… Brynn.

"And not just students," Ashe added, lowering her voice further. "I suspect those same clan elders are appealing directly to Frostforge instructors. Even Wolfe."

"What do they want?"

"Change. Marr banished from the keep. The Command Challenge canceled." Ashe's eyes met Thalia's. "Southerners back in their place."

Anger flared in Thalia's chest, hot and sharp against the chill of the room. "This is madness. The Command Challenge is designed to prepare us for war against the Isle Wardens. Every one of these distractions weakens us against the real enemy."

Ashe's expression remained impassive, but something flickered in her eyes — doubt, perhaps, or reluctant agreement. "Many elders in the Reaches are just as hostile toward the Southern Kingdoms as they are toward the Isles."

"Then they're fools," Thalia said, her voice edged with ice. "The continent's unity is the only thing that keeps us safe from the archipelago. If we're divided when the Isle Wardens come in force —"

"I know." Ashe's interruption was soft but firm. She gestured subtly across the room.

Thalia followed her gaze to where Luna and Einar had been paired. The Northern boy stood rigidly apart from Luna, his back half-turned to her, clearly refusing to engage. Luna's usual dreamy expression had hardened into something more calculating as she attempted to practice alone.

"Old habits die hard," Ashe murmured.

"It'll be a harder death on the point of an Isle Warden's blade if we can't learn to cooperate," Thalia replied, frost forming on her words.

Across the room, Roran and Morrigan worked in strained silence, maintaining as much distance between them as the exercise allowed.

Roran's movements were fluid and precise — too precise, Thalia thought with a pang of worry.

He was deliberately keeping his magic tightly controlled, afraid of letting even a hint of his storm affinity show.

The strain of it showed in the tightness around his eyes, the rigid set of his shoulders.

"What about you?" Thalia asked, turning back to Ashe. "What do you plan to do? Will you honor your elders' requests?"

The question hung between them, crystallizing in the cold air.

Thalia knew that Ashe was fiercely loyal to her heritage — she'd chosen Frostforge over an arranged marriage, but she'd never rejected her Northern roots or the responsibilities they entailed.

Yet she'd also been a friend to Luna and Thalia, crossing the cultural divide that separated most Northern and Southern students.

Ashe didn't answer. Her expression remained carefully neutral, but conflict shadowed her eyes. Her loyalty to her bloodline warred visibly with her friendships at Frostforge, with the rational understanding that division served only their common enemy.

"We should continue practicing," Ashe said finally, pushing away from the wall. "Virek is watching."

Indeed, the instructor's gaze had settled on them, his thin lips pressed into a disapproving line.

Thalia resumed her stance, forcing her attention back to the cryomancy form.

Her ice lattice took shape more smoothly this time, the pattern more regular, though still lacking the pristine symmetry of Ashe's creation.

As they worked, Thalia's thoughts drifted again. Could the intercepted note Luna found have been from one of the Reaches? No, she remembered — the message came tied to the leg of a gull, not a raven. Different sender. A different agenda.

Perhaps even more dangerous.

Luna’s intercepted note had not expressed any opinion on Northern superiority, or spoken of undermining Southern leadership. It had only identified a fault line in the academy’s unity and discussed escalating tensions.

Thalia's concentration slipped, and her ice lattice shattered, the fragments falling like diamond dust to the stone floor.

She exhaled slowly, gathering her focus.

Across the room, Roran's perfectly formed lattice gleamed, its patterns strained, more brittle than his usual work — the result of his desperate effort to suppress the storm magic that wanted to flow instead of ice.

Everyone is hiding something. Everyone is afraid of exposure, Thalia thought. The perfect environment for a saboteur to thrive.

"Again," Ashe said quietly, and Thalia raised her hands once more, frost gloves glowing with channeled energy.

Outside the high windows, beyond the delicate patterns of ice that obscured the view, ravens circled against the slate-gray sky, bearing messages that threatened to tear Frostforge apart from within — before the Isle Wardens ever had the chance to strike.