It wasn't often that luck was on Eira's side. She was unlucky when she needed it the most, but somehow that night seemed to be the opposite.
They'd managed to flee the grounds undetected, disappearing into the woods like wraiths. They had what they'd come for and hadn't been caught. Eira would have felt triumphant if two of their companions didn't lie in pools of their own blood, last memories the cruel bite of a polished sword. It would have felt like a success.
But Tanwyn and Garey's deaths weighed down everyone's shoulders, dampening any sense of relief they may have had otherwise.
Eira felt sick every time she lingered on the images of their broken bodies too long.
Loss had been a possibility, they'd all known that, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. Especially for Gwen. Eira could see the guilt in her eyes reflected in the silvery moonlight.
She probably felt responsible for it.
Eira wanted to say something to her. Some words of comfort. Anything. But every time she tried to speak, her tongue tied itself in knots and she couldn't form the words. What if she said the wrong thing and just made it worse? After going over it for several minutes, she ended up eventually giving up.
They reached the cabin Gwen had told them about just as a cloud began to pass over the moon. It left them in complete darkness, having to fumble their way inside. From the glimpse Eira had got before, the cabin was a old looking thing, weather-beaten and beginning to rot. It would keep them dry, though. And warm. Warmth was the priority.
The journey had taken longer than it should have, since Eira and Kea were weighed down with Gwen—who still didn't have the strength to walk without aid. She still shuddered beneath Eira's touch. Being out in the cold hadn't done her any good.
At least they'd managed to make it there. It was a small victory.
Eira didn't feel victorious. Nobody did.
~
Two hours later, Eira sat on the floor of the cabin in silence. She stared into the fire they'd built with logs from the its dusty woodpile, thinking of nothing much at all. The fire roared, despite being small, and emitted enough heat to warm Gwen back up.
Gwen was supine on the floor beside the hearth, breathing deeply. After her shivering had tailed off, she'd eventually fallen into a soundless sleep. Eira was beside her, knees to her chest. She herself hadn't had a wink of sleep. It was likely she wouldn't at all, so she'd given up attempting to some time ago.
Eira didn't know where the others had got to. Frankly, she was too tired to care. And she was trying to put off the inevitable conversation she would have with Kea.
She knew what she'd chosen to do earlier, and what it meant. She hadn't cared. And even now it was a decision she did not regret. They would have been dead otherwise, after all.
But now countless guards were in their place.
She willed herself not to think of that. Eira thought if she did her sanity might start to ebb away.
She hoped to God she hadn't been mistaken in trusting Kea. She was prepared to do what was necessary to protect her identity if he acted against her, yes, but that didn't mean she wanted to in any way. Even though she'd initially disliked him, he wasn't as bad as she'd thought. And in a purely opportunistic sense, it would be beneficiary to have him on her side; he was probably the one closest to Darrow in the whole rebel group.
As these thoughts swam through her head, Eira somehow managed to slip into sleep. It was unusually deep, brought on only by her body forcing it upon her.
When her eyes opened, moonlight still shone jaggedly through a gap in the broken shutters.
Eira lay facing the fire, which was beginning to burn down to the embers. Gwen was gone.
Eira called her name, sleepiness still dampening her senses.
"I'm here," came Gwen's voice from across the room.
Eira propped herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She turned her head in the direction of where she presumed Gwen was and to her surprise, she was standing and not shivering—in the process of repacking her satchel.
"Should you be...?" Eira murmured.
"I'm better. At least... I've rested enough and I'm not so cold anymore. Can't say the same for my leg though."
Eira gave a nod, her concern more or less eased. She could only hope Gwen was telling her the truth.
She focused on rising and getting ready to leave. The sleep hasn't helped much with her fatigue, but that was only to be expected. She had exerted her own powers and though it hasn't been near the level that Gwen had, excessive use took a considerable toll on one's body. But hopefully, after she'd moved around a little, it would lessen.
Just as Eira was finishing putting her bedroll in her pack, the door opened to reveal Kea. To her irritation, he didn't look tired. She returned her focus to fastening the buckles on her pack.
"Are you awake?" he asked them.
Eira didn't look up. "What does it look like? We're asleep?"
"I was just making sure." He sounded vexed, and she was almost glad. Though she hated to admit it, she'd been unconsciously worrying that as a result of her actions, their abnormal normality would be changed to a degree.
A short laugh escaped Gwen, earning her a glare.
"If you're done laughing at my expense," Kea said shortly, a moment later, "then let me tell you what I actually came here to say."
"What is it?" Eira asked eventually.
"We apparently aren't leaving yet. There's something our leader wants to tell us."
~
The four of them gathered closely around the small table in the other room, illuminated solely by the flickering light of the small overhead lamp.
There was something held in Darrow's hand, almost obscured by the sleeve of his cloak.
It looked to be an aged roll of parchment, yellowed and stained by presumably years of being handled.
"I imagine you're wondering what it was that we stole from the councillor."
"Just a bit," Kea said, sarcasm filling his voice. "Seeing as two of us died for it. It must be something groundbreaking if it risks sacrificing lives for."
Darrow went silent for a minute, and Eira thought for a moment that he wasn't going to respond.
"Until we complete our operation in its entirety, I will not know whether or not they died in vain. Furthermore, many more could die between then and now. We can do all that we possibly can to stop it, but even that may not succeed. All we can do is try to minimise losses. Everyone who agreed to follow me on this mission knew that. They were willing to pursue our goals even if it meant those possible outcomes." Eira got the feeling from what he said that he was trying to convince himself more than Kea. Darrow too had seemingly been affected by what had happened back there.
Kea disregarded his words. "That still doesn't make it right."
"No, it doesn't."
It was obvious that he agreed with Kea. Darrow was easy for her to read in this moment, and Eira wasn't sure why.
"And the item," Gwen began, terser than usual, "what is it?"
Garey and Tanwyn's deaths had affected her more than anyone.
As if responding to her words, Darrow snapped out of whatever thought he'd been in and brought the parchment into the light. Everyone leaned in closer, trying to get a good look at it.
"What change will a piece of paper bring about?" Kea questioned.
Darrow did not answer. Instead, he unrolled the parchment with its front facing him so the other three couldn't see it. At its full extent, it was maybe two feet by three. He turned it over and placed carefully it on the table.
"A map?" Eira mumbled as soon as she saw it, but stopped what she was about to say next when she caught sight of what exactly it was of.
In the centre of the map lay a familiar sight: it documented the geographical area of the kingdom in which they resided in.
However, it was not that that struck her.
Eira had known there were other kingdoms and nations beyond their borders, such as one to the south which they traded with, but nothing of the details, nothing of their geography; in every map you could look at in cartographers' shops, libraries, schools or museums, the area beyond the borders was only blank space.
But this one showed countries to the south, east, north and west. It documented an entire continent with islands dotted around, predominantly to the south and east coasts. And where the land ended—the sea. Something Eira had read of but never known the location of.
This was no ordinary map. It was something containing things she's barely imagined to really exist.
"This is what they've been hiding from us," Darrow told them.
The world beyond.
"This map gives us a rough idea of the area outside the borders of this kingdom. For the second stage of our operation, I have devised a way to get information regarding the countries themselves. From that, we will cross the border and gather in the most suitable place. And then we will rally our fires and strike where they least expect it."
~
Darrow's revelation weighed heavily on Eira's shoulders. The thought of it remained in her mind the entirety of the journey back, though it was not an unpleasant feeling as such—more like an old, childlike wonder of hers that she'd thought had been destroyed during all those years of training. A curiosity that could only be sated if she saw those unknown places for herself. And from what Darrow had told them, it seemed that it would happen sooner than later. Her heart pounded at the thought of it.
The vastness of those countries that lay beyond the borders was indescribable. She wished to breathe the air of a new place, to speak with its inhabitants, to learn everything about how it was both the same and different to where she was from. Were they better, more peaceful places that lacked the troubles and corruption of this one? Was everyone in there treated fairly and kindly?
Of course, there was the chance that they were worse, but Eira hoped, she hoped with everything she had, that they were better.
Perhaps one day, after everything had passed, she would finally be free to discover the world on her own. Perhaps she could travel with just herself and her thoughts and the openness of unknown lands. It was a thrilling thought, and a hopeful one. But Eira knew she wasn't ready to think like that. There were so many issues at hand that dreaming of possible ideal futures was unrealistic.
Even still, part of her hoped it wasn't. That everything would turn out all right.
It was noon by the time they returned, newly fallen snow crunching underfoot. Eira parted with the others at the edge of the woods, taking a direct route into the city. Kea cast her a glance as she left that could only mean he wanted to talk. And they would. He would most likely pass by the inn after nightfall, as he usually did.
Speaking of the inn, Eira's shoulders sagged when she remembered she would be working from one o'clock. She'd asked for the morning off, then thinking that they would return by dawn and have the next few hours to sleep, but their hold-up had ruined that prospect. Now she would have to immediately throw herself back into the strange normality she'd created as if she hadn't just been a part of a secret mission conducted by rebels. It was a tiring thought, but she knew she needed the money.
Eira gritted her teeth and tried to prepare herself.
Hopefully she would live until bedtime.
~
During the month the search for the renegade Frost had been going on, people often wondered when it would be upped. It hadn't even happened when the guard died, which had surprised them. Surely when one of their own was dead, it was a serious matter. But in the days following, it never happened. Were their guards as disposable as ordinary folk to them?
However, on New Year's Day, it finally did.
The Permafrosts came in search of their traitor.
There were just two of them. Tall, white haired men bedecked in spotless sliver armour that reflected the midwinter sun. They walked in perfect stride with each other, heads elevated, not casting a single glance at anyone who dared behold them.
Most had never seen one up close. Frosts were elusive weapons who did not find it necessary to go within a mile of the powerless, dirty peasants who roamed the streets of every town and village.
Nobody crossed them, memories of that small revolt that had happened two years ago branded in their minds. Everyone who'd participated had been hung publicly in the square and then left as carrion in a heap by the river. All fifty of them. It had been a mark of power, showing the Frosts as absolute overlords.
Except for one.
She was a small, middle aged woman, barely tall enough to reach the two Frosts' chests. Her eyes bore bruise like shadows beneath them, but her pupils burned with a defiant fire. She marched right up to them, craning her neck to look them both square in the eye.
"You!" she shrieked, right to their faces. She was a storm of raw anger. "Now you come? Now you widen your search? Weeks after that witch killed my son? My only son? Where were you then? You almighty bastards? Where in this damn earth were you?"
The guards regarded the raging woman with silent apathy. One raised a gloved hand and gripped it firmly around her neck before she could even react.
"Silence," he said, snapping her neck with one motion of his hand.
And silent she was, her anger dissipating along with her life. She fell to the ground with a crash, her head splitting against the icy cobblestones and bleeding out over the road.
The Frost kicked her body, hard. It rolled into the crowd, but they were too horrified to scatter. Instead, they froze on the spot, eyes unable to move from the scene in front of them.
"Let this serve as a reminder," the Frost said, looking over everyone with no emotion in his eyes. "If you to dare cross us, you will die."
Nobody moved. The Frosts, flanked by guards, continued on down the street, searching.
From his vantage point atop the roof of a building, Edan saw everything. He forced himself not to gag. It sickened him that they could think they could think they had the right to just kill—dispose of—people like that. It sickened him even more that up until that morning, he'd been a part of them. Never again. He would not be a mindless weapon, nor a senseless murderer.
Edan would fight for his freedom, his life, his best friend.
Whom he desperately needed to find. He needed to warn Eira, and quickly. Before they got her.