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Chapter 13: The Frostbound Will
The battlefield was silent at last.
The ruined tower groaned under its own weight, chunks of stone dropping like dying sighs. Smoke drifted across the shattered floor, curling around broken pillars and the blackened corpses of monsters. My arms ached from the relentless fighting, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. My sword was heavy in my hand, still dripping black ichor that hissed when it touched the cold stone.
I forced in a breath. Each inhale scraped my lungs like knives, but the pain was proof I was alive. Somehow, we had survived.
Across from me, Silvia sat slumped against a fractured wall, her hair plastered to her face with sweat. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but her eyes were still sharp, still alive. Relief washed through me. For a heartbeat, I wanted to laugh — laugh at how close we'd come, laugh at how the monsters couldn't handle us after all. But before the sound could escape my throat, the book stirred.
It lay in her lap, still black and cracked, yet brimming with something dangerous. Without warning, it snapped open, pages fluttering in a storm of unseen wind. My instincts screamed, and my hand clenched tighter around my sword, ready for another fight.
But Silvia didn't flinch. She stared at it as if she had been waiting all along.
"Silvia—?" I began, my voice low.
The runes flared icy blue. Light bled across the walls and floor, chasing away the smoke, but it wasn't warm. It was cold. Bitter. The temperature dropped in an instant, the chill biting into my bones. Frost spread from the book in jagged veins, crawling outward in every direction. My breath fogged white.
And then I heard it.
A voice — deep, ancient, commanding. It wasn't sound; it was resonance, vibrating in the marrow of my bones.
Child of frost… you who have endured the silence of the storm… I grant you my will.
The words weren't for me. I could feel that much. They moved through me, but they belonged to her.
Silvia's eyes widened, reflecting the blue glow.
Shards of ice rose from the pages, spiraling around her in a miniature blizzard. They etched patterns into the air — sigils so old my mind rebelled at the sight. The sight of them hurt, like staring too long at the sun.
Her hair lifted in the current, glowing faint silver in the frostlight. For a moment she didn't look human. She looked untouchable, an heir to something vast and merciless.
I took a step forward, sword half-raised. "Silvia, what's happening?"
She didn't answer. Couldn't. Her lips moved in a soundless chant, repeating words I couldn't hear.
The runes carved into the air burned brighter, then plunged forward, sinking into her chest with a pulse of freezing light. She gasped sharply, clutching her heart as if stabbed, and the glow vanished into her skin.
Her whole body shook. Frost laced her fingers, her veins, her very breath. And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.
The ice shattered, falling around her in glittering fragments. When she finally opened her eyes, they were changed. A glacial gleam lingered there, ancient and cold, as if a shard of something eternal had taken root inside her.
The book snapped shut, its last echo a sharp crack like breaking ice. It collapsed into her lap, inert once more.
Silvia blinked, dazed. She looked at me, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw fear — or maybe reverence — flash across her face. Then it was gone, replaced by a thin, tired smile.
"Guess it… likes me," she whispered.
Her voice was faint, but it carried a strange echo, two tones overlapped in one throat. It prickled the back of my neck.
I wanted to ask. I wanted to demand answers, to know what had just crawled out of that cursed book and into her soul. But exhaustion pinned my suspicion down. I swallowed the questions. Instead, I offered her my hand, pulling her to her feet.
"Good," I muttered. "Then let's hope it stays that way."
For a brief moment, I thought maybe we'd get to rest. Maybe we'd earned it.
But the ruin had other ideas.
The ground pulsed beneath us, a deep vibration that rattled through my boots. The same blue runes spread outward in a perfect circle, filling the cracks of the shattered floor.
Silvia stumbled, steadying herself against me. "Another one… already?"
"Yeah," I said grimly. My sword felt heavier than ever, but I still lifted it. "This floor doesn't want us breathing easy."
The light intensified, wrapping around us like chains of frost and fire. My stomach lurched, the world folding in on itself. The battlefield dissolved, pulled apart like torn fabric.
Then, silence.
The haze cleared, and we stood somewhere else entirely.
The air was sharper now, cutting at my skin. We were surrounded by walls of glassy ice, jagged and endless, glimmering with pale light from above. The ceiling shimmered like a frozen sky, constellations of frost etched into its surface.
Statues lined the walls — tall, humanoid figures locked in eternal poses. Some gripped spears, others carried scrolls, their expressions frozen mid-thought. I shivered, realizing too late: these weren't statues. They had once been alive.
"This is…" I whispered, scanning the frozen faces. "…a tomb."
Beside me, Silvia's expression hardened. She pressed her lips together, hiding something from me. Her hand brushed over her chest where the light had entered moments ago.
I didn't notice. I couldn't. All I saw were the frozen guardians, all I felt was the weight of the new trial pressing down on us.
The ruin wasn't done testing us.
And I was too blind, too tired, to realize the truth: Silvia had changed. The God of Ice and Cold had chosen her. And I was still oblivious.
I gripped my sword tighter, the silence ringing in my ears.
"Round two," I muttered."has just begun"
But even as I spoke, I felt it — the cold creeping deeper, not from the walls, but from her.
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