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"Release my friend, or I will tear you away from him and burn your horns to ash!"

Ashlynn’s threat echoed across the mountainside, drawing all eyes, not only from the forces who had been fighting on the walls, but from those at the head of Nyrielle’s army as well.

Now that the blizzard had cleared, Zedya moved quickly, leaving orders for Lennart to martial the remainder of their forces while she raced to Ignatious’s side.

"Ignatious, you," Zedya started in a whisper when she arrived at the fallen Inquisitor’s side. "What happened to you? And to little Heila?" she asked, hovering nervously near the slumbering witch cradled in Ignatious’s arms.

"I failed in my first attempt with the Holy Flame Blade," he said simply, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Ashlynn who held the flaming sword like a lance, pointed directly at the young Frost Walker lord.

"Heila healed me and... And she allowed me to feed on her," he said softly, hugging the sleeping witch tightly to his chest.

"I... see," Zedya said flatly. From the way Ignatious clung protectively to her diminutive protege she could tell there was more to it but now wasn’t the time to ask. She wanted to celebrate that stronger feelings seemed to have returned to the tortured priest, but seeing Heila’s sleeping figure, her heart couldn’t help but tremble with worry.

Without Heila’s help, who could heal Ashlynn’s wounds?

Zedya didn’t know, but there was one thing that she was certain of.

If Ashlynn died tonight because Heila couldn’t heal her, then the torture Ignatious had endured from Hamdi would pale in comparison to the fate that Mistress Nyrielle would sentence him to.

Zedya didn’t dare to contemplate further in that direction.

If anything truly threatened Ashlynn’s life, she was resolved to do whatever it took to protect her until Mistress Nyrielle arrived, and she knew she wouldn’t be the only one.

She only hoped that the stubborn young Frost Walker would see reason and surrender before they found out just how far Nyrielle’s forces would go to protect their lady and her lover.

Within Hauke’s mind, for the first time since this nightmare began, the towering figure of Ansgar appeared alongside the svelte figure of Ines.

The former trembled with barely concealed rage, ready to lash out at the witch who dared to threaten their horns, while the latter wavered on her feet as she manifested within Hauke’s mind, clearly suffering the after effects of having her blizzard torn apart by Ashlynn’s display of power.

"Little to offer, have I," Eugen said, hopping off his platform and rushing to Ines side. "But what I have, yours to take is." As the childish Frost Walker spoke, a soft green aura surrounded him, gently soothing the pain that wracked Ines spirit and restoring a healthier glow to her horn.

"Please, let me free," Hauke begged, struggling against the reforged chains that Eraric had bound him with after his last attempt to disrupt the struggle.

"Please, before anyone else is hurt, let me speak to her. I know she’ll listen to my words.

We can still find a way to resolve this," he said with hot tears streaming from his eyes.

"Please," he added in a voice that cracked under the intensity of emotions coursing through his heart. "Before it’s too late for my father... please..."

"The witch is a spent arrow at the end of her flight," Eraric said, shaking his head at the young lord. "Her artifact is impressive, but I doubt she could repeat that display, much less fight with it. My runic blade won’t lose to her sword. We have no reason to back down."

"Lord Ansgar," Kimsel asked, turning her stooped figure to face the mightiest warrior among them. "Can you defeat this witch with Eraric’s blade?"

"Without doubt," the towering Frost Walker replied without the slightest hesitation. "Eraric is right. She’s wounded and exhausted her power. I can overwhelm her easily."

"I agree," Ines said, resting a hand gently on Ansgar’s solid figure.

"She didn’t seem to be fully in control of her artifact.

I doubt she has much practice drawing out its power.

Perhaps she only reached for it today out of desperation.

We should be able to overpower her in a direct confrontation. "

"But can you defeat her without killing her?

" Kimsel asked, summoning a staff formed of ice and using it to prop herself up as she approached the wall that displayed the outside world.

"Or if we kill her, can we also destroy the army that would descend on us to avenge her?

And can we do all of this before her vampire mistress returns? "

"You want me to surrender?" Ansgar bellowed. "You want to give up and allow a defiler to go free with one of our horns? The Tuscans already hunt our descendants like animals. You want to add the rest of the world to the list of our clan’s enemies?!"

"I want you to take a path that doesn’t lead to mutual destruction and a victory that only the dead can celebrate," the aged Frost Walker snapped, rounding on Ansgar and pointing her icy staff at the center of his chest. "The young boy is naive but he isn’t wrong. It isn’t too late to choose another way. "

"What way, you..."

"What would you have us do," Ines asked, placing a cooling hand on Ansgar’s arm to smother his anger.

"Of all of us, you spent more time alive before placing your horn in the ancestral hall than any.

You know even more of the ways of outsiders than we do.

We should listen to your counsel," she said, giving Ansgar a pointed look.

Each of them had their own gifts and not one of them had been less than the greatest Frost Walker of their generation.

Ansgar had ruled over the largest territory and was the only one among them to ever be recognized as a high lord, but when someone grew too accustomed to absolute power, their ability to compromise and recognize when they were in a position of weakness diminished greatly.

Kimsel, on the other hand, had presided over the sunset of the Frost Walker’s greatest age.

The glaciers between the seven peaks had all retreated and the clan had fallen back to their greatest stronghold in the High Pass, watching as the lands beneath them grew stronger and more powerful while the strength of the Frost Walker’s melted like ice in the summer.

"Let me speak," the old woman said. "I will try to open a path for us."

"It won’t be too late to choose the sword if she fails," Ines said, wrapping both of her arms around Ansgar’s muscular arm and pressing herself close to him. "You and I have had our turn and even Eraric has aided our battle. Let her try."

"So be it," Ansgar said. With a waive of his hand, the air around him froze, solidifying into a throne carved from solid ice.

"Find us a path to victory," he said as he took his seat, deliberately turning his back to Hauke’s chained figure as he stared out of the young lord’s eyes at the witch and her flaming sword.

"But if you cannot open a path, then I will cleave one open myself," he added as the old woman vanished from the space within Hauke’s mind and began to address Ashlynn and the growing crowd of onlookers.