"They've come, Eira," Gwen said, the instant they met eyes. Her words were hasty, expression urgent and borderline desperate. "You aren't safe here."
"I saw," Eira responded, hesitant. Unsure what to say. "I saw everything. They didn't see me but... it was close, I think." Close enough to leave her heart still pounding to that minute. The rush of their near escape still lingered in her body. Her blood surged through her veins, her heart pounded, her muscles tensed and ready to flee.
Gwen's brows knitted together. "Upon our return, one of Darrow's rebels was waiting at headquarters and informed us, though it's not as if it wasn't obvious something had happened from how the city appears, and... even in the snow, there's no hiding the bodies. We had our suspicions, so to speak, whilst walking back. The rebel told us he'd heard they'd sent two Frosts and a patrol of their most experienced guards. As soon as I heard that, I came to find you. Two against two may not be as bad, in the possibility they find us. We really must hurry to avoid it, though. This inn won't be safe much longer."
No hiding the bodies. Just how many had the Frosts killed since their arrival? How many innocents perceived to be insurgents from only few words of opposition? Eira knew how it went. She dared not ask Gwen just what the number was this time.
Gwen was looking at nothing but Eira, eye contact unmoving. The look in Gwen's eyes prompted a reply. Eira once more couldn't find the words.
Gwen definitely hadn't noticed Edan yet. Eira wasn't sure if he'd seen Gwen yet, either, since she'd not moved from her stance in the doorway. Eira wasn't sure whether she should notify her friend of his presence. She instinctively brought her teeth down onto her lip, considering it and coming to the conclusion that it ultimately was not her place to decide what would happen; the choice was down to Edan alone.
She brought herself back to focusing on Gwen, who was still looking for an answer, gaze unwavering. "I was waiting for nightfall," Eira explained. "The dark will make it easier to remain hidden, won't it?"
Gwen appeared to think it over. "Good idea." She glanced over her shoulder to the window on the opposite side of the hallway. The dusty orange light of dusk was beginning to filter through. "We can wait here for an hour or so, then. You should start gathering up your things."
Eira began to nod in agreement, but stopped midway and gave Gwen a sideways glance. "Weren't you supposed to be resting?"
Gwen laughed shortly. "With what's going on, is there really any time to be sleeping?"
Eira sighed. "I suppose there's not."
She could hear Edan inching ever closer. The floorboards creaked a couple of paces to her left. His breathing was audible, ragged, catching in his throat as he inhaled.
"G—Gwen," he murmured, so feebly that Eira barely caught it. She turned her head to get a good look at him. The colour was completely drained from his face, eyes wide enough that his whites formed a ring around his pupils, and his jaw was slack. His knees shook ever so slightly as he edged a half-step further, and Eira wasn't sure if that was because of his injury, or the disbelief of seeing Gwen alive, breathing, not dead.
Eira wondered if that was how she'd appeared on that night when she'd seen Gwen, impossibly walking and talking and doing things no corpse should ever. At least—at that time it had been impossible.
He put a hand on Eira's shoulder as if to brace himself, fingers digging into her flesh almost enough for her to yelp out in pain and flinch away from his touch. Eira clenched her jaw and didn't say anything. Instead, she drew her eyes over to Gwen.
Gwen's eyes were wide enough to match his. "Edan?" she breathed. "You—"
Edan took another trembling step. "It's really you," he said. It sounded as though he barely believed his own words. "You're... alive." His fingers slipped from Eira's shoulder.
Gwen surged forwards, gripping Edan's clenched hands and taking them into her own. She looked up into his eyes, still wide with shock, and smiled. "I am. I'm here. I'm still breathing."
"How?" was all he said. Edan's eyes were beginning to glisten. "I mean... what happened? Eira said"—he glanced to Eira and she gave him nod and the ghost of a smile—"that I should hear it from you alone."
Gwen sat Edan down beside her on the bed, placing her arms on her lap and taking a deep breath. And then she began to speak.
~
Eira listened to Gwen's story without interjection. She watched Edan's expression change with nearly every sentence—from alarm to relief to sorrow and back to relief. He was focused intently on her words, appearing to take in every single detail.
What Gwen recounted was identical to what she'd told Eira a few weeks ago. Only a few. It felt like far, far longer than that. Months perhaps.
Eira's eyes drifted over the both of them as Gwen was beginning to approach the ending of her tale. The sole people who'd managed to keep Eira sane in that accursed place—the two people who'd assuaged her gnawing loneliness. Never for a moment would she have thought
before that day last month, or even before today, that she could be in both of their company once more, even for a moment. It sent her back to those days where Gwen and Edan would discuss trivial topics while Eira drifted off with her head laid against her arm on the table. Their voices—though speaking of disparate matters—lulled her back into a long forgotten, sleepy morning. Her head felt hazy, the hands of sleep grasping at her and trying to pull her under. Fighting it was futile; its grip too strong.
It was strange, she mused, as the world began to fade into the darkness of sleep and her eyelids drooped. Strange how she'd managed to happen upon a streak of luck. Two of the dearest people to her had found their way back to her side.
She wondered if that could mean that she would find Cerin once more—perhaps even sometime in the near future. As time passed, her hope for seeing him and talking to him had begun to slowly ebb away, but this thought renewed it.
He was somewhere close, that she knew. He had to be. The rebels were almost all concentrated in this city, and there was the matter of what she'd seen in the music hall. Now, more than ever, she was certain of what she'd seen. It was his face, even after almost five years, unmistakable. Cerin. Not to mention the boy Gwen had mentioned that night, the one who'd joined the rebels not long after Cerin had left home, who spoke of vengeance and went by his murdered brother's name.
It was as if he was directly under her nose, but in the instant she looked down, he flitted back into the shadows and hid from view.
She had a nagging feeling that it was because he simply didn't want to be found.
That theory brought around exasperation. Could it be that he thought he could shoulder it all himself? That it was solely his task to get to the bottom of the deaths of his brother and father and—presumably—seek vengeance against those who caused them?
She hoped that wasn't the case, that he wasn't intentionally evading her, but, if it were—a fact that was uncomfortably likely—it angered her all the more. If her surmising was proved, she'd reprimand him firmly. Owen and Graham were her brother and father as well, though not by blood but certainly in feeling. It was her task too. She wouldn't dispute it.
Eira would fight with him. She would stand by his side. Because that was what family was for, wasn't it? Again, though the blood in their veins differed, in everything else that actually mattered they were kin. Though it was many years since the day she'd left, that had never changed for Eira.
Surely it was true that Cerin still felt that way as well. It had to be.
It was better to stand with those you loved and trusted, than take it alone. Eira had realised that so very recently. It was okay to rely on them just a little.
The heavy cloud of sleep was fogging up her brain, muddling her thoughts. She couldn't drift off now, she knew. Eira clenched her fists and blinked several times. Her vision was blurred, hazy. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she had no time to do so.
Later, she promised herself, even though she wasn't entirely sure if that was true.
"You didn't, did you?" Gwen asked, a hint of reproach in her tone. "You didn't run away? You've put yourself in needless danger, Edan. You could have been safe—away from all this."
Eira focused in on their discussion, hoping it would keep her from falling asleep again.
Edan's voice was quiet, but not lacking in vindication. "I'm sorry, Miss Gwen. But... you don't understand. They—" he took a deep breath, "they were going to send me after Eira. They were attempting to coerce me into leading the hunt for her, using my life and hers as leverage. Said they'd let us both live if I helped, and, if not, put both of us to the pyre without any chance of a trial. I could not go through with it. I fed them false information for a little while, hoping I could bide Eira enough time to hide, or get away, despite the fact it was it was so risky. But they got an anonymous tip from someone in this city a few days ago, and there was nothing I could do to stop them coming, so I did the only thing I could—come and warn her. Do you really expect me to sit back and let my closest friend die?" His voice shook near the end, but whether that was due to anger or something else, Eira wasn't sure.
She hadn't known there had been a tip regarding her location. Edan hadn't mentioned it to her earlier.
The sister of the guard, or those two foolish drunks. They were the most likely, both assumedly recognising her due to her thoughtless threats of power. If she got the chance, she would take necessary action against them.
"No, no, never," Gwen assured Edan hoarsely. She was bent over and sat on the edge of Eira's bed, massaging her temples with a pale, bruised hand. "I don't mean that. I would never even think it. You are not that sort of person, Edan. I know that. What I was trying to say is—you've relinquished any chance of an easy life. You'll forever be a criminal in the eyes of the Frosts. You'll be hunted too, Edan. It's not any sort of life, living like this."
When Edan spoke, he was firm. Resolute. "I don't regret my choice, Gwen. I won't ever. You know, Eira told me the same thing earlier. I know the risks and I'm willing to take them. This is more of a life than aiding in the execution of your friends." His expression eased into something more positive. "Besides, once we've created a free society, we will no longer be fugitives, will we?"
Gwen gave him a sad smile. "You're going to fight, aren't you?"
"Of course I will. I'm going to fight alongside both you."
"I will not stop you." She met his eyes. "But please promise me one thing."
Edan frowned. "What is it?"
"Live." Gwen's eyes glistened, tears escaping them and catching in the candlelight as they streaked down her cheeks.
Eira thought she'd never seen Gwen actually cry. It was a strange thing to behold.
Edan nodded earnestly, his eyes beginning to water as well.
"And Eira," Gwen said. Eira met her eyes, eyebrows drawn together. "You must live too."
Eira smiled, rueful, but her voice shook a little as she spoke. "I'll try to."
"You have to," Gwen murmured. It sounded like a plea. She was more vulnerable now than Eira had ever known her to be. Again, strange to see. Gwen was always the strong one. "Because, without you two, I'm not sure how I could continue on. You are... all I have. My friends—the only ones I've ever had. Every day since I left, I've thought of you. I haven't forgotten you for a moment. This—this is what kept me going all these years: the prospect of seeing you once again."
Edan began to sob, putting his head against Gwen's shoulder. Eira, eyes finally filling with tears, stood from the desk chair that she had been seated at and sat beside him on the bed, a comforting hand placed on his trembling shoulder. They sat like that for a moment, silent. Eira's tears were hot, proof that not everything about her was cold, icy and cruel. She was thankful of them.
"We'll survive this, the three of us," Eira promised, attempting to take on the role of the optimist. "And we'll see a new dawn rise, a morning in a changed, better world."
Gwen and Edan both gave tentative smiles through their still flowing tears.
"A new dawn will rise," Gwen echoed, determination filling her voice.
~
Twilight began enshroud the city, the bright hues of the setting sun fading away into deep navy and inky black, dotted with the silver pinpricks of stars.
Eira was getting antsy. In mere minutes, it would be time for them to make their journey across the city to rebel headquarters. An ambush wasn't certain, but it was definitely possible. She needed to think up a plan as to how they would evade an unknown number of Frosts should it happen and, so far, she had nothing.
She winced as she thought of their usages. Gwen was terribly fatigued, injured and had the effects of Frostbite still putting a large dampener on her usage. Eira, though not to the extent of Gwen, was worn out too. She'd exerted herself considerably at the Councillor's house, too, and there was no way her usage would be close to its best potential. The sleep deprivation definitely wasn't helping, either. Edan was presumably at full usage, though, but he too was tired. Though that didn't necessarily affect his abilities, it would definitely lessen his speed and reflexes. All in all, the three of them together probably bore the usage of two average Frosts, and that was the best case scenario.
She screwed her eyes shut in concentration, but still nothing. They would be as well as done for if they were outnumbered. If only there were somebody like Darrow around. Eira's abilities to strategise were hit or miss, almost entirely dependent on luck. She could not trust her own ideas. It was a bad idea to promise to them both that she's think of something a moment earlier.
"So did you give Eira a chiding about her fleeing too?" Edan asked, probably in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Gwen snorted. "I didn't dare try. I doubt anyone has the power to weaken Eira's resolve, certainly not me."
Eira clenched her jaw.
"She's undoubtedly stubborn," laughed Edan.
"Hey!" Eira retorted, but a smile was crossing her features whether she liked it or not. "I'm trying to focus on making a plan."
"Sullen, too."
Eira scowled, but forced herself not to respond to their obvious teasing. She was not sullen, though. And since when had Gwen and Edan decided that they liked to gang up on her? It was not in the slightest bit fair.
Revenge was required.
"Edan," Eira began, dragging out the syllables of his name in an overly singsong manner. "You called Gwen 'Miss Gwen' a minute ago. I thought you'd stopped that."
Edan's eyes widened. He coughed, very obviously deliberate. "It was just a slip-up," he forced out. His ears were pink.
Eira raised her eyebrows. "So you admit it?" she pressed. Edan had been so fervent in denying that he'd ever said it before; Eira had broached the subject a while ago, on a day in which their memories hadn't seemed so painful and they'd decided to remember the happiness they had in those days with Gwen.
"I—"
Eira grinned, triumphant. "You do, then!"
"No, I don't!" he objected.
Gwen watched the pair of them with an amused expression.
Eira turned to her. "Gwen, don't you remember when he used to follow you around everywhere?"
"I thought it was endearing," Gwen said with a smile.
Edan's face turned crimson and he gave Eira an imploring look. "Be quiet," he hissed at her. "Please."
Honestly, she hadn't expected him to be this embarrassed regarding his idolisation, or whatever it was, of Gwen. Despite the fact there were many more things she could say to tease him, Eira dropped it; she'd already avenged herself. "I've missed this," she said, instead. "I've missed us being able to talk like this." More than anything.
"Me too," Edan mumbled, his cheeks still flushed. He looked thankful that she'd changed the subject.
"So have I," Gwen said, a sadness in her voice that hadn't been there before. "But... we can't talk any longer. Night has fallen. We need to get going."
A glance out the window proved as much. The moon was large and silvery in the sky, and the stars flickered brightly. It was a clear night. They would be able to see well in the dark without the need of lanterns. It was all the better for escaping.
But all the better for hunting, too.
"Eira, did you think of a plan? In case of ambush."
She paused for a moment, taking in Gwen and Edan's expectant expressions. "I have the semblance of one. Better than nothing, though, I suppose."
"Will it work?" Edan asked.
Eira grimaced. "It had better."
~
They slunk through the inn—still no signs of anyone in it, despite this usually being its liveliest hour—treading carefully, even though there didn't seem to be anyone about to avoid.
As soon as they were out in the bracing night air, the three of them pulled their hoods up, concealing their features as best they could.
They kept to the shadows, never once stepping out into the enticing but potentially deadly lamplight that stood along the sides of each street like sentries at guard. It was easier to stay discreet now that it was dark; they were no longer under the exposing scrutiny of day.
They moved with at a brisk yet ever cautious pace, all of them fighting through threatening exhaustion. It wasn't even that far. They could make it. All they needed to do was get to the cobbler's, where the entrance to the passage lay.
Eira had informed Edan and Gwen of her plan just as they were helping her gather up her things to leave.
In the event they were ambushed by Frosts, they would form a circle, blasting their assailants with as much ice as they could muster before they got a chance to react, and then run away as fast as they could away.
It was the most straightforward thing she could think of, with the least risks. Of course, that didn't in any way mean there weren't any. It was reliant on timing. Whether they got it right
or not would determine its success.
Eira gave a silent prayer to whatever forsaken gods she could and could not remember the names of. Nobody in this land worshipped in any of them these days—she wasn't even sure what their attributes or what they represented were. The gods were things of ancient lore and legend, of a forgotten world where people had borne enough hope to put their trust into unseen deities. Eira thought that if any gods or goddesses had ever existed, then they had surely abandoned everyone in this icy hell millennia ago.
But still, in those days, people had prayed to their deities in times of need, and found courage in it. So, despite it being futile and most likely pointless, she needed as much courage as she could get. Especially since there were Frosts—presumably experienced ones—lurking about in the streets and seeking her out. If they found the three of them wandering about, her plan would need to hold out. And, if not, some extremely quick thinking would be needed on their part.
Eira gritted her teeth and focused on getting through the city, continuing her silent prayers that it would go smoothly.
They reached the bridge crossing the river Linn a minute later, and she glanced into its depths for a moment. At night, it was black as pitch and as wild and swirling as a tempest, appearing bottomless. She knew it would be so freezing that it that it would give someone hypothermia within mere seconds. Furthermore, she doubted anybody could survive the strength of the rapids unless they were an inhumanly strong swimmer. Which none of them were, that she knew of. Eira didn't even know how to swim. If somebody fell in there, it was death for sure. The Frost could only go so far to protect you.
Eira picked up her pace, mentally rebuking herself for lagging. Gwen and Edan were already on the bridge. They stood near the middle, waiting for her.
When she was alongside them, Eira paused. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she'd heard something as she was walking up. She listened carefully for any sounds.
For a moment, all she heard was the rushing of water and a distant owl hooting.
Gwen and Edan gave her questioning looks, their faces limned by pale moonlight.
She heard it again, then.
"What is it?" Edan whispered, brow creasing.
Eira brought a finger to her lips.
Edan went silent and Eira began to listen once more. It was faint, but getting closer. Dangerously close.
She was certain—even over the noise of the river—that she could hear footsteps. Two pairs, even, and approaching from both ends of the bridge.
An ambush.
And there was nowhere they could run. That effectively nullified her plan. The bridge had one road leading up to it, and one road leading away. They could not run now and not meet whoever it was coming.
Fear began to well up in Eira. It was a cold and unwelcome feeling. She did her best to quell it and keep herself calm. There was no use in panicking; it would merely make things worse.
"There are two people advancing towards us, one from in front and one behind." She kept her voice hushed, but loud enough so as her friends could hear.
Gwen stiffened and Edan widened his eyes. Both of them were barely breathing.
"I hear it," Edan murmured.
"Gwen, how is your usage now, do you think?" Eira asked hurriedly. She knew—there was only one option if they were to get out of this situation alive.
"It's improved. But not near full capacity."
"Edan?"
"As close to full strength as I can get it."
That was what she'd estimated. At least one of them was at full usage.
Eira let a frost coat her fingertips, exercising her power gently. A little better, perhaps two thirds of her average level.
The footsteps were getting closer and closer, but Eira still couldn't catch a glimpse of anyone. "Edan, Gwen, you take the left side. I'll take the right."
They didn't need to respond—Edan and Gwen just turned around, pressing their backs to Eira's.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Fifteen.
The footsteps grew nearer still.
By the time Eira had counted to twenty, a figure finally emerged from the shadows into the moonlight.
He was tall and white-haired. As he approached, Eira saw that his face was youthful, perhaps twenty-five at most, with a terrifying sort of beauty that lay in his sharp features and hawk-like gaze. He watched the three of them as a predator may watch its quarry before it pounced. Eira's heartbeat grew ever more frantic and that cold, all-enveloping fear began to take hold of her once again. She urged her limbs not to shake.
The man—undoubtedly a Permafrost—reached the bridge and began to move up the steps. His gait was precise, each stride the same length as the last.
When he got to the top and began to cross the bridge, mere metres away from Eira, she spread her palms as wide as they would go. As soon as he was near enough to hit, she would send a barrage of ice in his direction.
Now that they were level with each other, Eira could see him in his full glory. His clothes were entirely white, only offset by the glistening silver of his embossed cuirass and gauntlets. A long cape hung from his pauldrons, swinging slightly as he moved, as white as the rest of his clothes. Eira could imagine how easily it would stain with spilt blood.
His clothing was the standard for a military employed Frost—and a high up one at that.
She saw a longsword hanging sheathed at his side, which only made matters worse. She didn't know how she could possibly hold out against a blade like that, with only her weakened power and the short, brittle dagger in her belt.
But she wasn't ready to give in just yet. She wasn't ready to accept death. After all, there were only two here, but she, Edan and Gwen made three. They could manage. She hoped to the gods they could.
His eyes still bored into her with that predatory look, appearing black in the darkness. He looked as if he was sure he was about to slaughter her. She wanted to scoff at that. She would not be so easily killed.
She would not cower. She would not balk.
And she certainly wouldn't yield to him.
She took a rattling breath, the pessimist in her wondering if it would be her last one. She cast that thought aside and threw it away into the deepest depths of her subconscious.
Eira steeled herself and let a familiar gelid feeling course through her veins and into her fingertips. This time, she welcomed it more than she had ever welcomed anything.
And she pushed an onslaught of jagged ice from her spread palms.
~
i'm currently dying of tiredness but hey, at least i got the chapter finished, right? i hope you enjoyed it! if you have any questions regarding anything i'd be happy to answer. votes and comments are much appreciated, thank you 💕