Frost Burn

by K T Munson

  Three stragglers branched off from the main battle and came toward them. Coor hopped onto shore, pulled out two arrows, loaded them both, and fired, killing all three. One of the arrows passed through the throat of a man in the lead, and plunged into the forehead of the one behind him.

  Cas and his crew took up position behind Coor, between Darha and the battle, and started firing into the enemy at the center. As the rest of the boats landed, Coor’s ground forces were quickly in position so they could cut off any further direct assault for the time being, allowing Darha to get to safety.

  Coor took Rhett’s shoulder. “There is a Frost Nation guard hut to the west. They are ordered to keep peace. Cas!” Coor called, “how far is it?”

  “Esau!” Coor heard Cas holler. Looking back, he saw Cas take hold of an upper arm of a tall, broad-shouldered Frost Nation native with short, curly, pale blonde hair. “Escort the Queen of the Fire Nation to the western hut for protection. Make sure they know what’s going on if they do not already. If they are aware of the situation, get their report. If trouble arises, take her and her escorts through The Wall.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  Coor stared at Darha. Her eyes were wide like they usually were when she was afraid or worried, but something deep inside them had changed. Coor saw less fear in his baby sister’s eyes than he’d ever seen before. “I’ll be with you as soon as I can,” Coor told her.

  Darha nodded. She reached up for her brother’s face and drew him down so she could kiss his cheek. “Be careful.”

  Before Coor could even respond, a blast of fire magic hit him in the back, knocking him forward onto the ground. He was paralyzed in shock for a moment, wondering why someone from his own nation, a magic user, was attacking him.

  He spun around onto his back in time to see Cas and six other Frost Nation soldiers standing side by side in front of him. Their arms were held out across their bodies, and shields of ice were expanding from all their forearms, growing wider and longer until each shield joined together to form one thick solid wall of ice that touched the ground and went half a foot over their heads. Blasts of fire barraged the ice wall, nearly knocking Cas and his soldiers back, but they stood firm.

  Coor was dumbfounded at what was taking place. He suspected the magic haters behind the attack, but he hadn’t anticipated fire wielders, betrayers of his own!

  “Coor!” someone yelled from behind.

  Spinning onto his stomach to look behind him again, and his eyes went wide. Darha stood there, incredibly rigid and still. Her shoulders were up under her ears, her hands stiff with her fingers bent like claws, and her face twisted in a fierce snarl at the attackers. She looked more animal than human, and Coor knew exactly what was happening. He’d seen it once before, on that day, when his mother had summoned the Wild Fire to defeat the magic haters who had invaded his home. Coor’s breath caught when he saw the heat vapors start to halo Darha’s entire body.

  He had enough time to suck in a breath and scream, “Soldiers down!” at the top of his lungs. It echoed off the Frost Nation’s wall, landing on the anxious and confused young soldiers’ ears. They had never seen the Wild Fire. “Soldiers down!” Coor screamed again. He reached up from the ground, gathering the back of Cas’s tunic in a fist, and yanked him to the ground. He did see several soldiers drop, mostly older ones that had likely seen his mother’s Wild Fire attack. Some were yanked to the ground who still didn’t know what was going on. “Soldiers down!” The majority followed suit and dropped to the ground, including many Frost Nation soldiers.

  Coor saw the light gray irises of his sister’s eyes turn orange with fire magic before the fire expanded to outline her entire being. She was standing in a bonfire as tall as she was. Coor curled himself around Cas’s body, shielding him as completely as he could since Coor was more fire resistant than Cas was.

  The fire magic expanded farther outward, and higher, until Darha thrust her arms forward. Then with the force of a hurricane, the fire storm blew toward the battlefield. It incinerated everything, friend and foe, in its path. Coor felt the heat of it on his back as it washed over him. He let out a drawn-out grunt of pain, and just did his best to try and protect Cas from it. He was going to have some fractured skin, though. All the Frost Nation soldiers would. He only hoped they wouldn’t be too angry about it.

  As soon as the Wild Fire ceased, Coor looked back at his sister. Her eyes dropped closed, and her knees began to sink to the ground. Coor scrambled to his feet and was able to catch her before she fell. Lifting her up in his arms, he turned to face what was left of the battlefield, which wasn’t much. He looked down at Cas as the southerner pushed himself up from the ground. His hands and wrists were fractured badly, but everything else appeared intact.

  Cas was about to say something when his gaze turned west. “Coor,” he said. Coor saw the reserves of the enemy army coming down the shoreline. Coor and Cas glanced at each other. “Go,” he said. “The eastern tower. She’ll be safe there. Esau!” Cas called as the remains of the army closed ranks in front of Coor. The big southerner came forward. “Go with them. Same orders. Take them through The Wall if there’s trouble in the east.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  Coor’s gaze lingered on Cas and he felt guilt slam into his chest again. He didn’t want to leave the Frost Nation native in battle. Coor should be next to him. But with Darha in his arms in her condition, she had to be his priority.

  “Rhett!” Coor called to his captain. Rhett spun to face him. “Put the Fire Nation under the authority of Commander Cas of the Frost Nation.” Cas spun to meet Coor’s eyes with slight surprise. Coor met the southerner’s eyes straight on. “Obey him as you would me,” he said quietly. Cas gave a gracious nod of his head before Coor turned to follow Esau east to the safe huts.

  The small party had only made it a half a mile away when another small reserve army was spotted coming up the shore toward them from the east. Coor clutched Darha tighter to his chest. She was small and light enough to nestle comfortably in the crook of one of his arms. With his free hand, he pulled out his sword. He wasn’t going down without a fight, even one he was going to lose.

  Frost: Chapter Twenty-Five

  Aradel and her small guard party left the outreaches of The Wall. She looked to the west in surprise as fire suddenly exploded in the air in a tall and vast column. Lifting herself up on the elk she tried to see more, but her view was lost to the hills and trees. Worry overtook her as she glanced at the guards around her.

  “Hurry!” she called and urged the elk forward.

  It had been difficult to leave Queen Vesna, but she had a duty to make sure the Fire Nation was settled, and their Queen was safe. Yet from the amount of fire she had seen, clearly something was wrong. She prayed she would arrive in time.

  The heat prickled at her skin, and she had to wrap herself in cold. Of the guards with her, only one was a magic user. The rest would not need the comfort of the cold. She worried, however, for the men and women of their guard who had been posted to ensure the Fire Nation was seen safely across the river. Were it not for Queen Vesna’s injury, Aradel would have been with them herself to provide support.

  When they reached the top of the hill that overlooked the valley shore, she could see the battle. The clangs of swords and the cries of the injured reached her ears like whispers on the wind. Her elk shifted back and forth anxiously. Aradel noticed the battlefield closest to the river was completely scorched. The ground and the people who had been standing on it were nothing but burnt corpses. Such destruction had been wrought, and Aradel knew exactly how.

  Glancing down the shoreline, she caught sight of a small group fleeing to the east. Among them was Prince Coor; his regal and imposing frame was easy to spot even from a distance. In his arms was a small bundle of clothing, and Aradel almost didn’t recognize it was a person. Coming up from the east, cutting off Prince Coor’s escape, was a small group of armed men and women.

  Aradel’s eyes wide
ned. “Who are they?”

  “Magic haters,” Dain, the lead guard answered. “I did not realize their numbers had grown so large within our nation.”

  Turning from them, she looked back to the main battle. She had to join, for her powers and her position demanded it. Yet she had to close her eyes against the reality of that. Aradel had only wanted to use her powers to create and heal, not destroy. She had never taken a life, and the thought pained her. She felt her forehead furrow as she tried to remember the dancing bears she had created for the children. That memory seemed so far away now as she desperately grasped for it.

  “Lady Aradel?” one of the guards asked.

  She looked to him, trying to blink away the shock of the reality she faced. “What is it?”

  “Your orders?” he asked, and then glanced at the other guards.

  Aradel swallowed her fear and unwillingness. Kirill was out in the ocean trying to save their planet and their people. She could not be lost in what was past; she could only be the same force that Kirill had been. She had to move forward and change her role. No longer the creator and mender, she had to become the defender.

  Glancing at the royal family of the Fire Nation, she pointed to them. “See that Queen Darha and her brother are escorted from the battle to safety,” she commanded. “Then return and join the fray on the shore.”

  They nodded, and the lead guard recited, “As you command.”

  “Wait,” Aradel called. “Hiron, you take a message back to The Wall and warn our people of the events taking place with the magic haters.” Hiron nodded and turned his elk. In a gallop of hooves, he was lost to the trees.

  Aradel turned to go down the hill when the lead guard, Dain, said, “Be careful, Lady Aradel.”

  She heard a child crying in the distance, and her heart broke. She turned a cold eye to Dain, “It is them who should be careful.”

  She turned her elk and rode him hard down the hill. Aradel left a trail of ice behind, as she leaned further forward on him. Already she could feel her rage building, and a cold fury overtook her. She was vengeance itself as she rode; vengeance that would be swift and ice cold.

  She put her arms out, making a sword point of ice in front of her elk. She did not slow as she reached the shore, and broke through the ranks like a spear. Those who did not wear the silvery blue uniform of the Frost Nation’s Guard, or the red and gold armor of the Fire Nation, were mowed down. She rode headlong into the battlefield, an icy plow that sliced through those who had chosen to stand against her people.

  Reaching the western edge of the battle, she saw a second group running toward her. At their front was a woman in pale blue, with blond curly hair, and a streak of silver. Aradel recognized her, but couldn’t place her. There was hatred there, and a daring challenge in her eyes.

  She pointed a sword directly at Aradel. “To victory!” she cried, and a brief memory surfaced. The woman’s father had been killed. Aradel remembered because it had happened around the time Aradel had arrived in Axion. Yet she couldn’t remember the woman’s name.

  The elk suddenly lifted its hind legs and kicked a man square in the chest, nearly causing Aradel to fall off. She narrowly caught the elk’s neck, and held on as it settled again. He huffed at the fallen man in triumph.

  Aradel dismounted and put a hand on his neck. “Return home.”

  The elk stared at her with his deep, intelligent eyes, and seemed to hesitate. These creatures were smart, and they knew who took care of them. Aradel patted his neck before leaving, making sure he didn’t have a choice.

  She lifted her hands and focused her entire attention on the woman in the lead. The woman stopped then, as those of her army streamed around her to attack. The woman looked amused and overconfident. Perhaps it was time people knew exactly how destructive ice could be.

  Aradel pushed her hands downward with her palms flat toward the ground, and ice began to form. It crept along the ground, spreading out under the feet of those running toward her. She waited only a moment before she lifted her hands up, and spikes of ice shot out of the ground, impaling every person in front of her.

  She heard men rushing in behind her, and glanced back to see them dressed in the Frost Nation armor. It was the Guard. Aradel closed her fists and the ice spikes turned into snow, which was now pink with the blood of those she had maimed. She ignored it as she moved toward her quarry, their leader.

  Aradel lifted a hand and swept it across her body. Every person between her and the woman was flung to the side as she manipulated the water in the air. She was nearly to her mark when a blast of fire magic suddenly hit her shoulder. Aradel yelled in pain and stumbled backwards as her hand went to her injury, and her ice shield snapped around her. . A second assault fizzled out against her shield.

  “To Lady Aradel!” someone called, but it sounded far off. It was as though she wasn’t in her body anymore. Everything was in a haze of silver and blue blobs huddled around her. She vaguely realized they were shielding her from every angle.

  She inspected the burn on her shoulder. Cracks of blue were just starting to form under the singed skin. Her vision sharpened as she stood up straighter and looked at the smug expression of the woman across the battlefield. It was clear that she had planned everything, and Aradel had fallen for it. She hadn’t known that magic wielders had joined the cause of the magic haters. It was madness. Many of the magic haters surged around them, as those around her continued to defend her. Aradel tried to concentrate, but the pain she was in made it almost impossible.

  The woman eventually fought her way through the scattered troops that surrounded Aradel. She brought her sword up for a fatal blow, and Aradel raised an arm to defend herself. The sword came down and glanced off her ice shield, leaving tendrils of frost on the blade.

  “It won’t last forever.” The woman said, and hacked at Aradel again.

  With the second strike her shield crumpled around her, and Aradel collapsed to a knee. The woman smiled, and Aradel knew she was seeing true evil. No one should appear so pleased with taking a life. Aradel lifted an arm again, but she couldn’t muster her powers. She was not made for battle, she thought soberly; she was made for something else.

  Just as hope began to leave her, when the woman raised her sword again, Aradel felt something smooth slide across her throat. Her eyes went wide as a silvery blue light shone under her chin. Her arms then dropped to her sides and her head fell back as a force of blue light erupted off her, throwing everyone within twenty feet backwards to the ground.

  Time stood still for Aradel. That single moment seemed to stretch on for eternity. Looking to her right, she saw a ghostly version of Queen Vesna smiling with an affectionate and knowing grin. Aradel instantly knew what had happened, and pain filled her breast. Yet that familiar smile warmed her, too. It told Aradel everything was going to be all right. It told her that it didn’t matter that Queen Vesna was gone, because if Aradel had the moon pearls, she would have a part of Vesna—the closest thing Aradel had had to a mother.

  When time resumed, the moon pearls were at her throat, and their power hummed gently. It was an amplification of what Aradel already was, and much more. She could feel the ice world around her, and she knew it would bend to her. Suddenly her fears melted away, and she faced those around her.

  The woman pushed herself up from the ground, and seeing the moon pearls, her faced paled. Aradel reached for her, but to her surprise, a very weak ice shield sprang up around her skin. Startled, Aradel hesitated. As the woman’s shield dropped, she turned and quickly fled. The men and women with her appeared startled. Then Aradel watched as they all abandoned the battlefield to follow their leader.

  Aradel turned around and, upon seeing the moon pearls, all the guards knelt before her, reaffirming their allegiance to a new Queen as was customary. Yet as she stared at the dead and dying, she did not want them to swear on a ground soaked with blood.

  “Help the wounded,” Aradel commanded. “Get them to Hurra.” The guard
quickly rose to their feet and did as commanded.

  She could hardly breathe because she was so overcome with emotions, as she moved through those around her. . Seeing Commander Cas, as he shouted orders by the shoreline, she carefully picked her way through the bodies that littered the ground, feeling nothing but emptiness as her feet crunched on the scorched earth.

  When Cas saw her, he appeared relieved. Then his eyes fell to the pearls at her throat. She resisted the urge to reach up and touch them; torn between tearing them off, and letting them sit proudly on her chest.

  Cas stepped forward, kneeling before her with an arm across his chest. “My Queen,” he affirmed.

  “Rise,” she said, thankful that a Knight only had to take the knee once before a new queen. When he was standing again she asked, “What happened here?”

  He glanced around at the badly burned bodies, “Queen Darha happened.”

  “This power,” Aradel said softly, “is so destructive.”

  “Her brother was injured,” Cas informed her. “I think she lost control.”

  “Wild Fire,” Aradel whispered so quietly that no one could hear her. She had heard of it, but never had she witnessed it. Only the most powerful of the Fire Nation could call upon it. Yet it was true to its name. It was hard to control, and its destruction was well recorded in their history books.

  Cas waited patiently for her. When she looked up at him again, she said, “I have commanded that the wounded be taken to Hurra.”

  A man in gold and red approached them. He seemed to regard her briefly before turning to Cas, “We have started to gather every able-bodied man and woman to help move the wounded.”

  “We’ll need to bury our dead,” Aradel whispered as she examined the charred bodies.

  “We burn ours anyway,” the man said roughly.