The wind howled as the group climbed from the chamber of ice, the Frostwielder walking slowly at Liora's side. His breath still clouded the air like mist, but the cold no longer clung to him like a prison. With every step, color returned to his face, though his eyes remained haunted.
They didn't speak much as they traveled. The frost-covered trail wound down the far side of the Everspine, where even wolves dared not hunt. The snow here held echoes—voices whispered on the wind, some in languages lost to time.
Elestria kept close to the boy, watching him as if he were a dream that might vanish. "Your ember is wild," she said at last. "But not cruel."
"I don't know what it is," the boy replied. "It doesn't burn. It freezes, preserves... mourns."
Liora glanced over. "Then maybe it remembers something we've forgotten."
Ashara led them to a sheltered grove surrounded by crystalline trees. Their branches shimmered with frozen flame—ice shaped like fire, unmelted by the warmth of day.
"We'll rest here," she said. "The Queen's scryers can't pierce the veil of this grove. For now, we're invisible."
Kael scouted the perimeter, leaving faint glyphs in the snow that flared with warning light. When he returned, he sat near Liora and the Frostwielder, who was still shivering slightly.
"I need a name," the boy said quietly.
"Names carry power," Ashara warned. "Be sure before you speak it aloud."
He turned to Liora. "Then give me one. Yours was the voice that woke me."
Liora hesitated, then said, "Thalen."
The frostwielder tested it on his tongue. "Thalen."
Elestria smiled faintly. "It suits him. It means 'quiet flame' in the old tongue."
Night came quickly. As they rested, Liora sat apart, the ember within her pulsing to the rhythm of the land. She felt something tugging at her—an old memory, or perhaps a future one.
When sleep came, it was not peaceful.
She stood in a throne room of ice and bone. Queen Iridell waited on a frozen dais, her crown of shadow gleaming.
"You gather your pieces, flameborn," the Queen said. "But even unity cannot escape fate."
"What fate?" Liora asked.
"To become what you fear. All flame consumes. Even hope."
Liora reached for the ember—but it flickered.
Iridell's laughter echoed. "You are not ready."
She awoke with a gasp.
Kael was already moving. "Something's wrong."
The crystal trees were no longer still. Their branches swayed though there was no wind. Frost cracked beneath the snow, glowing faintly blue.
Ashara gripped her staff. "It's a calling stone. Someone is tracking him—Thalen."
Elestria cursed under her breath. "Then they've marked his essence."
"I can draw them off," Kael said.
"No," Liora said quickly. "We stay together."
But Thalen stepped forward. "They're after me. If I leave, they'll follow."
"You've only just awakened," Liora said. "You can't face them alone."
"I won't be alone." Thalen looked at her. "We're bound by flame, aren't we?"
She nodded. "Then we go together."
Ashara cast a concealment veil over the grove, and the group moved north, toward a rift marked only on Elestria's memory—a place where ley lines crossed, creating a flux of raw elemental power.
As they moved, Kael whispered to Liora, "You're changing."
"How?"
"You don't wait for answers anymore. You make them."
She didn't know whether to thank him or be afraid.
At the edge of a glacier, shadow surged.
Three figures stepped into view—wraiths cloaked in armor of obsidian and gold, eyes burning with violet flame. The Queen's Flamebinders.
"Return the lost ember," one hissed. "Or be buried beneath ice."
Thalen stepped forward. "No."
He raised his hand—and for the first time, his ember answered with more than memory. Ice spiraled from his palm, forming spears that danced like lightning.
Liora raised her own flames, golden and pure. Ashara invoked binding sigils. Elestria flared with silver light.
Kael struck first, his blade catching one Flamebinder in the throat.
The battle was swift, brutal.
When the snow cleared, three bodies lay still—and Thalen stood panting, frost licking at his lips.
"They'll keep coming," he said.
Liora nodded. "Let them. We'll be ready."
And from the depths of the ice, something ancient stirred in answer.