IV: Frostfall

[conjuredskies]

He stood facing his brother on the practice field. The pines whispered with disapproval as Stratos frowned over him.

You can be more than this, he said. He turned away, leaving Felix holding both their swords again. But when he lifted them they weren’t the oaken practice blades. They gleamed in his hands, wicked and beautiful. The glow of their strength flowed through him and he sighed with the thrill of it, the relief of it. Didn’t this feel right? Hadn’t it all fallen into place perfectly?

They were attentive. Waiting. He knew what he needed. What had to be done.

He just had to come for them.

He looked up at last, and the field he stood in was no longer a mountainside clearing, and the cloaked figure walking away wasn’t Stratos, and at his feet the earth was torn and churned. He knew the tower that loomed nearby.

He was never sure when he stopped dreaming, but the moment his fingers dug into the damp earth he knew he was awake. He didn’t stop. He knew why he was here. He’d known for a day that felt like forever, and the certainty had hardened in him like frost in the soil. He knew what had called him across the Nexus and over the fence and straight to this completely unremarkable spot in an unremarkable field.

He did jerk his head up for a moment to note the crystalline tower rising above him, glinting green in the moonlight. Naugus’s lair, yes. And it was night- that was good. He wasn’t sure he could have borne waiting until night fell, and people would have gotten in the way. But that was a vague and fleeting thought. He just dug like a commanded thrall, without pause for breath, excitement building with every inch he slid deeper into the hole, throwing handfuls of mud every way until his hands closed on thick cloth.

He dragged the bundle up and clutched it to him in triumphant exhilaration, pulling desperately at the loop of string around it, tugging at the cloth until he grasped the hilt and-

It shot through him. Power. Joy. Victory. He’d done it. He had them! He could feel them as they felt him. It was so good, so right to draw the long blade clear of the cloth and look, just like this they dis-entwine and now here they are, Felix, both of them, one for each hand, the only weapons you’ll ever need-

But it was time to go. Time to carry his prizes away where they’d be safe. He was still weak, still tired after being alone so long. Harrow could come back any moment to stop him, to take them away.

Take them first, Felix. Let them take care of you. Soon you’ll be strong enough to wield them against anyone.

He needed no urging. In a fumbling and a flash, he and they were gone, leaving only a pile of cloth flapping limply over the gape of a muddy hole.