Page 34 of Frostforge, Passage Four
On the frozen fjord, the battle shifted. Isle Wardens, realizing their advantage was slipping away, launched a desperate offensive. They charged toward the students, lightning crackling from their fingertips, determined to claim lives before reinforcements could arrive.
Thalia saw Wolfe at the forefront of the approaching force, her face carved from fury.
Ice erupted from the ground at her feet with each step, sending shock waves across the frozen surface.
Beside her, Marr moved with a limp, blood staining his glass-threaded cloak, but his expression was no less determined.
How he had survived and reached them, Thalia couldn't fathom, but relief flooded through her at the sight of the Southern instructor.
"Now!" she shouted to her first-years. "Move toward them! Stay low!"
As the injured students began their halting retreat across the ice, the Wardens made their move. A volley of lightning bolts streaked toward the vulnerable students, the air crackling with deadly energy.
Thalia dropped to one knee, bracing her shield before her.
Three bolts struck the ice-titanium surface in rapid succession, the impact nearly driving her backward.
She gritted her teeth, channeling the energy through the metal and into the ice beneath her.
The shield grew hot in her grip but held firm.
Nearby, Roran stepped into the path of the remaining lightning. With a fluid motion of his hands, he caught the energy and redirected it, sending it back toward the Wardens who had launched it. The attackers scattered, their own power turned against them.
"Keep going!" Thalia urged the first-years. "Don't stop!"
The two forces collided at the center of the fjord in an explosion of ice, steel, and magic.
Golems tore through the Warden ranks with mechanical efficiency, their ice-metal limbs impervious to the lightning that glanced off their surfaces.
Instructor Virek moved like a dancer through the chaos, each gesture of his hands sending shards of ice erupting from the frozen surface to impale unwary opponents.
Caught between the academy's forces and the students they had come to slaughter, the Isle Wardens began to falter. Their coordinated attacks devolved into individual struggles for survival as they found themselves outnumbered and outflanked.
"Retreat!" A voice carried across the battlefield, deep and commanding. "Back to the ships!"
The effect was immediate. Wardens disengaged from their opponents, falling back toward the western edge of the fjord where their vessels lay partially encased in ice.
They moved with the discipline of trained soldiers, covering each other's withdrawal with bursts of lightning that forced their pursuers to take cover.
Thalia helped Rasmus to his feet, supporting his weight as they made their way toward the approaching instructors.
Around them, other students did the same, half-carrying wounded companions across the treacherous surface.
The first-years' faces were blank with shock, the reality of combat having stripped away any romantic notions of warfare they might have harbored.
Golems pursued the retreating Wardens, ensuring they continued their withdrawal rather than regrouping for another attack. The sounds of battle diminished, replaced by the creaking of ice and the groans of the wounded.
The Isle Wardens' ships began to break free of the surrounding ice, their hulls splintering the frozen surface as they turned toward the fjord's inlet.
Thalia watched them go, a strange emptiness settling in her chest where fear had resided moments before.
They had survived. Somehow, against all odds, they had survived.
Dawn light crept across the horizon, painting the ice field in soft pinks and golds. The storm clouds dissipated, the unnatural lightning fading with the Wardens' retreat. For a moment, it seemed as though the worst was over.
Then Wolfe raised her hand. Not in triumph, but in command.
Two ice-steel golems broke away from the main group, moving with purpose toward Roran. He stood alone near the shore, his clothes singed and torn, his body visibly trembling from exertion. Wisps of electricity still flickered around his fingers, though his power seemed largely spent.
He didn't run. He didn't speak. His eyes found Thalia's across the ice, and in that single glance, she read everything: exhaustion, fear, and a defiant acceptance of what was to come.
"No," Thalia whispered, realization dawning. "Don't—"
The golems seized Roran by the arms, their movements swift and mechanical.
Ice-metal clamps locked around his wrists with a hiss of frost, binding his hands to prevent any further use of his magic.
The shock of it froze Thalia in place for a heartbeat, the aftermath of battle still ringing in her ears.
"Stop!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she stumbled forward across the ice. "What are you doing?"
Her question echoed across the suddenly silent fjord. Students and instructors alike turned to watch the scene unfold, but no one moved to intervene. Some faces registered shock, others unease, but many — particularly those of Northern students — showed only grim satisfaction.
Thalia reached Wolfe, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Without him, most of the first and fourth years would be dead. He saved us."
Wolfe's emerald eyes were cold, her expression unyielding. "He has hidden storm magic from the academy for four years, Greenspire. The power of our enemies, wielded only by Isle Wardens."
"You saw what he did with it," Thalia protested, gesturing toward the bodies of fallen Wardens scattered across the ice. "He fought against them, not for them!"
"Wolfe," Kaine's quiet voice came from beside her as he stepped up to stand at Thalia's shoulder. "You're going to make an example out of the person who just kept half the academy alive?"
The Head Instructor didn't even look at him, her gaze fixed on Roran as the golems began to drag him toward the academy. "If we don't enforce order now, we invite ruin later." Her voice was flat, brooking no argument. "This is not a matter for student input."
"He's one of us!" Thalia's voice rose, desperation clawing at her throat. "You can't just—"
"I can, and I will," Wolfe cut her off. "Storm magic is treason, Greenspire. You know this."
The golems continued their methodical progress across the ice, Roran stumbling between them. He didn't resist, didn't call out. His head was bowed, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Thalia started after them, but Kaine's hand on her arm held her back. "Not now," he murmured. "Not like this."
Her knees gave way, and she sank to the ice, the cold seeping through her torn leggings. Around her, students began to move again, helping the wounded toward the academy, their voices subdued. The victory had turned hollow in the span of moments.
Thalia stared at Roran's retreating form until it became a distant silhouette against the dawn sky. The ice beneath her palms was smooth and unyielding, like the rules that had just condemned him. Her throat burned with unspoken words, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed.