Page 16 of Frostforge, Passage Four

It wasn't the crude, unpredictable force that many Isle Warden infantry wielded.

This was controlled, almost elegant — a dance of light and power.

Roran moved through forms that seemed precise enough to be influenced by cryomancy.

His face, usually animated with easy smiles, was serene, eyes half-closed in concentration.

Around him, mist gathered and swirled, as if the very air responded to his command, forming miniature storm clouds that hovered at shoulder height.

Thalia remained motionless, transfixed. She had seen glimpses of his power before — during the Storm Chase, when she and Ashe had encountered him practicing in secret — but never like this.

Never so raw, so beautiful, so controlled.

The light played across the water's surface, transforming the ordinary fjord into something magical, otherworldly.

For several minutes, she watched in silence, torn between admiration and concern. What he was doing was dangerous — not just because of the power itself, but because of what it revealed about him. If anyone else had stumbled upon this scene…

As if sensing her thoughts, Roran suddenly stiffened.

His head turned sharply in her direction, eyes widening.

In an instant, the lightning dissipated, the light snuffed out as if it had never existed.

The mist that had surrounded him evaporated into the night air, leaving only ordinary darkness behind.

"Who's there?" His voice carried across the still water, tense with alarm.

Thalia stepped out from behind the boulder, letting her hood fall back. "It's just me."

Relief flickered across his face, quickly replaced by wariness. He stood motionless as she approached, his breath forming visible clouds in the cold air.

"This is why I worry about you," she said quietly when she reached him. "Do you even know what would happen if you were caught? What if someone else had seen you tonight instead of me?"

Roran held her gaze, his expression unreadable in the dim moonlight. "But they didn't," he said, his voice low and steady. "You did."

“You’re lucky,” Thalia whispered.

Roran’s teeth glinted in the moonlight as he smirked. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Roran….” Thalia trailed off, the rest of the sentence caught somewhere between caution and the cold breath on her lips. Part of her wanted to chastise him again, to remind him what was at stake, but the flashes of lightning kept dancing in front of her eyes, mesmerizing her even from her memory.

Roran couldn’t avoid the storm magic altogether. These secretive practice sessions by the fjord’s edge — they weren’t just practice, Thalia realized. They were an outlet, a release valve for something he could barely contain.

He wasn’t just honing a skill — he was holding back a flood.

Every arc of lightning he called, every gust of wind that answered his breath, was a reminder that storm magic wasn’t mere art or science, the way cryomancy was for its master practitioners.

The storm was part of him. Woven into his blood, his bones.

"You've seen me do this three times now," Roran said. "Does it frighten you? My storm magic?"

Thalia considered lying, trying to discourage the dangerous magic, but couldn't bring herself to.

Not to him. Not here. "No," she admitted.

"It's beautiful. And it saved my life in the Storm Chase last year.

" She paused, remembering the way he had electrified a swell of ocean water and sent it crashing back toward their attackers. "It's part of who you are."

Something in his expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the residual heat from his magic radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the bitter cold surrounding them.

"I wish..." he began, then shook his head. "I regret how our last conversation ended. I wish Senna hadn’t walked in."

"Me too," Thalia whispered.

The silence that settled between them wasn’t hollow—it thrummed with meaning, heavy with all the things left unsaid yet deeply understood.

Without a word, they moved in quiet synchronicity to a flat stone near the water’s edge, their shoulders brushing.

The warmth of his body bled into hers, a defiant shield against the cold.

The fjord stretched before them like a sheet of dark glass, moonlight and starlight painting it in wavering ribbons of silver. The stillness was not empty — it felt sacred, like breath held between heartbeats. To speak too loudly might break it.

Thalia’s thoughts drifted to her original reason for coming here — Maven.

But the idea of Maven emerging from the shadows now sparked something unexpected: not fear, but resolve.

If the grizzled, traitorous instructor came now, with Roran at Thalia’s side, they could face her together.

Here, with no witnesses, he wouldn’t have to hide what he was.

No rules. No scrutiny. Just truth and power. Maven wouldn’t stand a chance.

Thalia remembered how the Isle Wardens had scattered when Roran attacked, how poorly they had reacted to their own lightning turned against them. What a weapon he could be, if only anyone would look beyond their prejudices long enough to see the truth of him.

"What are you thinking about?" Roran asked softly.

"H"How wrong it is," she said. "That you have to keep pretending. That's what makes you powerful: what makes them afraid of you." She turned toward him. "When I saw you down here that day, when Ashe and I caught you practicing… I wasn't afraid of you. I was afraid for you. And… impressed, too."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Is that a compliment, Greenspire?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

His quiet laugh warmed the night more than any fire. Without hesitation, Thalia leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. He tensed for a moment — then eased, wrapping his arm around her with gentle curiosity.

"Just don't get caught," she murmured. "Not until we figure out how to make them understand."

He said nothing, but his arm drew her closer, as if to answer anyway.

Above them, the half-moon sailed on in solemn silence, casting its long shadow across the frost-slick stones — no longer two figures, but one, their edges blurred by the night.