Page 24 of Frostforge, Passage Four
It happened faster than Thalia could react. Levi's fist connected with Einar's face with a sickening crack, knuckles splitting against cheekbone. Einar stumbled back, momentarily stunned — then launched himself forward with a roar of fury, tackling Levi into a nearby table.
Chaos erupted. The mess hall transformed in an instant from tense stillness to violent motion. Students scrambled in all directions — some seeking safety, others rushing to join the fray. Shouts echoed off the stone walls, a dissonant chorus of anger and fear.
A Southern second-year grabbed a metal tray to shield herself as an older Northern recruit hurled a frost-slick mug like a weapon.
It glanced off the makeshift shield with a resounding clang and shattered against the wall, spraying ice shards in a glittering arc.
Someone — Thalia couldn't see who — began casting, misty tendrils of ice magic curling over the flagstones, making footing treacherous.
A table flipped with a thunderous crash, sending bowls and cups flying. Porridge splattered across the floor like pale viscera. Thalia ducked as a bench sailed over her head, wood splintering as it hit a column.
"Stop!" she shouted, but her voice was lost in the din.
Roran pushed away from their table, moving toward two younger students — a Northern first-year and a Southern second-year — who were grappling dangerously close to the serving counter with its heavy pots of boiling water.
He reached out to separate them, but a blur of motion intercepted him.
One of Einar's friends grabbed Roran by the collar and threw a punch, yelling, "Don't you touch them, stormspawn! "
The blow caught Roran on his already bruised jaw. He staggered but didn't fall, twisting away from a second strike with surprising grace. Thalia started toward him, only to be jostled aside by fleeing first-years.
At the edge of the melee, Ashe moved with precise efficiency, diving through the chaos to drag a panicked first-year clear of the fighting.
Brynn appeared like a hammer behind her, her movements fluid and practiced as she knocked a Northern brawler off his feet with the hilt of a practice blade she must have grabbed from the hall's display.
The fight was spreading, consuming the mess hall like wildfire. Northern against Southern, upper years against lower, with only a few voices calling futilely for calm. Thalia glimpsed Luna sliding beneath a table, emerging on the other side to pull a bloodied Southern second-year to safety.
Thalia tried once more to shout for order, but even as she opened her mouth, a deafening crack split the air.
The sound reverberated through the hall like thunder, so forceful it seemed to shake dust from the rafters.
The stone floor trembled beneath her feet as ice bloomed in jagged, crystalline patterns along the flagstones, crackling as it spread in an instant from the doorway across the entire room.
Wolfe stood at the threshold, her face a mask of cold fury.
Frost gathered at her boots, where her staff was half-embedded in the ground, a conduit for the powerful cryomancy that had stopped the brawl in its tracks.
Calloway and Virek flanked her, their expressions shocked and appalled as they surveyed the destruction.
"Enough." The single word fell into the sudden silence like a stone into still water.
The fighting ceased immediately, leaving only the heavy breathing of exertion as the students glared at each other with wary eyes. Wolfe's gaze swept over the wreckage — upended benches, spilled food frozen mid-air like strange sculptures, students with split lips and bloodied knuckles.
"Anyone still standing, take a knee. Now."
No one dared disobey. Even Einar dropped to one knee, blood still dripping from his split lip, his arrogance momentarily subdued by Wolfe's commanding presence. Thalia sank down where she stood, her heartbeat gradually slowing as the adrenaline began to ebb.
Wolfe stepped into the hall slowly, her boots crunching on frozen remnants of the morning meal. Shattered glass crackled beneath her feet like breaking bones. The instructor's silence was more terrifying than any shouted reprimand could have been.
"You have disgraced this academy," she said finally, her voice low but somehow echoing to the farthest corners.
"All of you. Frostforge stands as one, or it falls.
And right now, it is falling." Her gaze traveled over each face, lingering on the worst offenders.
"We train soldiers here, and soldiers do not lose control like this. "
The silence that followed was absolute. Thalia glanced at Roran, noting the tight line of his jaw, the rigid control he maintained even now.
Across the room, she caught Luna's eye. Her friend's expression was troubled, not with fear of punishment but with something deeper — the same concern Thalia felt growing in her chest.
The saboteur's plan was working. The divisions were no longer simmering beneath the surface; they had erupted into open conflict.
And as Thalia looked around at the bloodied faces and hardened expressions of her fellow students, she realized that whatever tenuous unity Frostforge had maintained was fracturing beyond repair.