The frozen gates of Thalyra's fortress cracked apart under the weight of Kaelin's will. The ancient frost relic pulsed within him, guiding his power with a sharp, unyielding precision. Shards of ice fell from the shattered archway, glittering like dying stars before disappearing into the snow. The cold here was not just weather, it was his command now.
He stepped into the courtyard, the diamond-clear armor clinging to his form, light sliding over its edges. The soldiers posted along the walls hesitated. Some raised weapons, but most froze, sensing something that was no longer entirely human standing before them. Kaelin's gaze swept over them, and the temperature dropped so suddenly that frost bloomed across their armor in jagged patterns.
He remembered the faces of the prisoners he had seen through the relic's frost-vision when trapped in the tomb. Men and women broken by chains, their spirits bent under Thalyra's rule. Some were thieves from the tundra tribes, others were warriors who had once defied the Guilds. And there were children, locked away simply because their blood carried a spark of elemental gift. That memory burned hotter than the cold that now coursed through his veins.
With a single motion, he raised his hand and the ice beneath the courtyard groaned, splitting apart in lines that ran like veins of light. Spears of frost surged upward, not to strike the soldiers, but to fling them aside, clearing a path to the fortress keep. The great doors were sealed with runes, yet when Kaelin pressed his palm against them, they melted in moments, the wood hissing into steam before freezing solid again and crumbling.
Inside, the prison halls reeked of damp stone and rusted chains. The air was heavy with despair. Cells stretched along both sides, their bars thick and rimed with frost. Faces appeared behind them, hollow-eyed and wary, until recognition sparked. Whispers began to spread.
"It's him…"
"The Tempest Heir…"
"The boy from the slums…"
Kaelin's throat tightened at the sound. He had not heard that name from strangers in years. He summoned wind to sweep through the hall, and with it came a whispering frost that slid through the locks. Metal screamed and cracked as the ice expanded, breaking the bonds. Chains fell in heavy clangs to the ground.
A man with one arm stepped forward first, his remaining hand trembling as if unsure whether to touch Kaelin. "You… you freed us," he said, voice hoarse.
Kaelin nodded once. "Thalyra's rule ends tonight. Walk with me, and you will never wear chains again."
A murmur rose, hesitant at first, then swelling like a tide. The freed captives gathered, some too weak to stand without help, others clutching makeshift weapons scavenged from fallen guards. The one-armed man leaned closer. "We'll follow you, Tempest Heir. To the end."
That title sank into Kaelin's chest like a vow. He remembered the cold nights in the alleyways of Frostmark, how he had sworn to survive long enough to change everything. Now, with the relic's power thrumming in his blood and the weight of dozens of eyes on him, he felt the shape of that vow turning into something real.
He lifted his hand and a flurry of ice swept down the hall, coating the floor in shimmering frost. "Then we march," he said. "And we take back what was stolen."
The prisoners roared, their voices echoing in the stone corridors, carrying the promise of war.
...
The moon hung low in the night sky, a pale silver disc veiled by drifting clouds. Its light spilled across the tundra like molten frost, bathing the battlefield in a cold glow. Kaelin stood at the head of his new army, the freed captives fanned out behind him in ragged lines. Every breath rose in plumes, every boot crunched on the crusted snow. Ahead, atop the white-carved steps of her fortress, Queen Thalyra waited. Her crown glimmered like ice cut from the heart of a glacier, and her eyes were shards of winter sky.
The wind whistled through the open plain. Somewhere in its rush, Kaelin thought he heard echoes of the past, the days when he had believed her an ally. He remembered the brief trust he had allowed himself, the rare flicker of relief at not having to face the Empire's terrors alone. That memory now felt like a knife's edge in his chest.
"Kaelin Aeryn," Thalyra called, her voice carrying as if the air itself obeyed her, "you should have stayed in that tomb. It would have been kinder."
Kaelin stepped forward, the frost relic's energy pulsing in his veins. "And you should have left your prisoners free. It would have been wiser." His voice was calm, but deep within, the storm was building.