As they reached the central chamber, Kaelin's gaze fell upon a massive slab of black ice at the far end. Strange runes spiraled across its surface, faintly glowing. Thalyra approached it with slow reverence, her voice quiet. "The Guilds would destroy this if they could. But they cannot touch it. It was shaped before their rise, in a time when the old ways ruled."
Kaelin stepped forward, his fingertips brushing the cold surface. A sudden flicker of memory came to him—his mother's voice, telling him of the old kings who could lock away storms, who commanded the winter to sleep or wake. He felt a pulse through the ice, as if something alive lay beneath.
He turned to Thalyra. "If this is as dangerous as you say, we should move it before the Guilds find it."
Her expression shifted, just slightly. Then she stepped back. "Yes… but you will not be the one to move it."
The words struck him as strange. He barely had time to process before she raised her hands and the chamber roared to life. Walls of ice surged up around him, closing in like jaws. Sova lunged forward, but a sudden blast of frost struck him in the chest, hurling him back toward the passage. Kaelin's instincts flared, the wind rushing to his call, but the cold here was different, heavier, as if the tomb itself obeyed her.
"Thalyra!" His voice echoed in the frozen chamber. "What are you doing?"
Her eyes held no warmth now. "The Aeryn line was meant to sleep until the north needed it again. You are too soon, Kaelin… too dangerous."
The ice rose higher, sealing over his head. He fought to break it with wind and water, but the frost resisted him, layer upon layer tightening. The glow from the runes brightened, casting long shadows over her face.
"You will rest here," she said, her voice distant as the final wall closed. "And when the time is right, perhaps you will thank me."
The last thing he saw before the ice sealed him in darkness was her turning away, the light fading with her steps.
The cold closed in like a living thing, and Kaelin knew this was no ordinary prison. This was meant to hold him until his will broke.
But he would not let it. Not here. Not ever.
...
The ice pressed in on every side, a weight that seemed to seep into Kaelin's bones. His breath fogged and froze before it left his lips. Each heartbeat felt slower than the last, the cold wrapping around his thoughts until even rage began to dull.
He tried to summon wind to tear the prison apart, but it slipped away like water through numb fingers. He called to the flow of water within the ice, but it felt locked, chained by something far older than him. The frost here was not just cold, it was alive, ancient, and aware.
His body began to shake, not from fear, but from the creeping stillness that threatened to claim him. The darkness was absolute, except for a faint glow beneath the black ice floor. It pulsed like a slow heartbeat, blue and deep as winter's core.
Kaelin forced his mind to focus. He thought of Hollowspire's walls breaking under his will, of the Glacier Monks who taught him to breathe through pain, of the promise he made in the slums to never again be powerless. He remembered the faces of those who followed him, the trust in their eyes. He could not end here.
With great effort, he pressed his palms to the floor. The glow grew stronger, a wave of freezing energy rushing into his skin. Images filled his mind—warriors clad in crystal armor, their eyes glowing white as they moved through storms unscathed. A voice echoed faintly, not in words, but in feeling, like the language of the ice itself.
He understood. This was the relic Thalyra had spoken of, not a weapon in the usual sense, but a living shard of the first winter. It had waited in silence for centuries, seeking one who could bear its power.
His instincts screamed against it. The Glacier Monks had warned of relics that merged with the soul, binding themselves to the bearer forever. Once taken, they could never be undone. But another voice inside him, fierce and unyielding, asked a single question: Do you want to live?
Kaelin's answer came without hesitation.
The ice beneath him cracked. He drove his will into the relic's heart, letting the freezing pulse surge through him. Pain like nothing he had known tore through his veins, shards of frost racing through his blood, threading into his bones. His vision exploded in white light, and for a moment, he could see the world beyond the tomb. He saw Sova struggling against Thalyra's guards outside. He saw the slow drift of snow in the mountains above, each flake distinct. He saw the heartbeat of every droplet in the air.
Armor formed over his skin, clear as diamond and jagged as glaciers. It was not forged, but grown from his own body, shaped by the relic's will and his own. His breath turned into ribbons of mist that curled like living serpents. The walls around him shuddered as frost cracked and splintered, unable to contain the storm building within.
Kaelin rose, the prison crumbling away from him. His heartbeat matched the relic's, his mind sharper, his senses flooded with layers of the world he had never felt before. Every grain of ice in the chamber bent toward him, awaiting command.
He had been betrayed and buried. But Thalyra had made one mistake.
She had locked him inside with the very thing that would make him unstoppable.