CHAPTER TWO
Darkness hung thick as a mink cloak around the outpost, broken only by the sparse torches that flickered along the fortress walls.
Thalia pressed her back against the cold stone, counting the seconds between guard rotations.
Her breath clouded before her face in short, controlled puffs, her heart hammering against her ribs like a prisoner demanding release.
Beside her, Luna and Ashe remained equally still, three shadows indistinguishable from the night that cloaked them.
They had one chance at this—one moment to slip past the southern gate before the guards returned.
After that, there would be no turning back: they would be deserters, traitors to their posts, risking execution for the slim hope of saving a man who might already be condemned.
"On my mark," Ashe whispered, her eyes fixed on the distant guards disappearing around the eastern corner. "Three... two... one..."
They moved as one, boots crunching softly against the packed snow as they darted from their hiding place toward the narrow service entrance—a small gate used primarily by hunters and scouts, rarely locked because of the presumed impossibility of survival for anyone foolish enough to venture into the Northern wastes without sanction or supplies.
Thalia's pack thumped against her spine with each step, laden with the meager provisions she'd managed to gather: a waterskin, dried meat, an extra tunic, her small pouch of medicinal herbs, and her father's old compass, its needle trembling beneath the glass as if sharing her fear.
The gate hinges groaned in protest as Ashe pushed against the weathered wood.
Thalia winced at the sound, her gaze darting toward the walkway where the guards would soon reappear.
Luna slipped through first, then Thalia, with Ashe following last, easing the gate closed behind them with agonizing care.
They didn't speak again until the fortress lights had faded to pinpricks behind them, swallowed by the vastness of the night. Only then did Thalia release the breath she'd been holding, watching it spiral away from her like the last wisps of her military career.
"We need to move quickly," Ashe said, her voice low despite the distance they'd put between themselves and the outpost. "They'll discover the two of you are missing at dawn muster. By midday, they'll have search parties combing the immediate area. We want to be miles away by then."
"Which direction?" Luna asked, turning a slow circle to survey the empty landscape that stretched endlessly around them. In the dim starlight, the snow-covered plains seemed to undulate like a frozen sea, broken only by the occasional jagged outcropping of rock.
Ashe pointed to the dark mass of the sea. "We follow the coastline. The ocean will keep us oriented, and unlike the inland wastes, the shores offer more shelter and resources." Her expression was grim as she added, "And fewer chances to get hopelessly lost and freeze to death."
They trudged through the snow for hours, the stars wheeling overhead as their only companions.
By the time they reached the coast, Thalia's legs burned with exertion, and her lungs ached from drawing in the frigid air.
The terrain changed abruptly, snow giving way to frozen sand and shingle beaches, punctuated by towering columns of ice-slick rock.
The wind off the sea was even harsher than the inland gales, slicing through their furs and numbing their faces.
It carried salt and ice, a stinging combination that made Thalia's eyes water and her chapped lips crack further.
The waves crashed against the shore in rhythmic violence, shards of sea ice grinding together like broken glass.
"Keep your hood up and your scarf tight," Ashe advised, her own features barely visible beneath layers of fur and wool. "The wind off the water will freeze exposed skin in minutes."
They pressed on as the night deepened around them, following the curve of the shoreline where the dark sea met the frozen land. The only sounds were their labored breathing, the crunch of their boots against the icy shore, and the constant, thunderous rolling of the waves to their right.
Then, as if in reward for their perseverance, the sky above the ocean blossomed into light.
Ribbons of green and violet undulated across the darkness, threading between stars that seemed close enough to touch.
The aurora borealis painted the heavens in ghostly fire, reflecting off the ice-strewn waters below until it seemed they walked between two mirrored worlds of light.
Thalia halted despite herself, transfixed by the spectacle. In her four years at Frostforge, she'd seen the auroras many times, but never like this—never with the vastness of the open sea stretching beneath them, doubling their majesty.
"It's a clear night," Ashe said, her voice softened by wonder despite the urgency of their situation. "The sky spirits are dancing."
"Is that what your clan calls them?" Luna asked, her face tilted up, the eerie light painting her features in otherworldly hues.
Ashe nodded. "My mother said they're the souls of warriors who died honorably in battle, showing the living the path to glory." She paused, then added more pragmatically, "It's a good omen for travelers. Clear skies mean we won't lose our way, at least for tonight."
They continued beneath the dancing lights, their shadows stretching long and strange across the frozen beach.
Conversation was sparse; each woman was lost in her own thoughts, conserving energy for the journey.
The world felt empty, populated only by the sound of the sea grinding beneath the ice and the occasional mournful cry of a snow gull wheeling overhead.
As the night gave way to dawn, the aurora faded, replaced by the slow bleeding of color into the eastern sky. The sun, when it finally crested the horizon, offered light but little warmth—a pale, distant disk that hung low over the barren landscape, casting long shadows across the shore.
Near midday, they came upon the remains of an old Northern shipwreck, its hull iced over and half-buried in snow.
The vessel's spine rose from the beach like the ribs of some great beast, weathered timbers jutting toward the sky in silent accusation.
Frost clung to every surface, transforming the ruin into a glittering sculpture.
"The Sea Dragon ," Ashe said, running a gloved hand along the ice-crusted plank that bore the unfortunate vessel’s name. "Looks like a fishing ship."
Thalia studied the wreckage, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature settling in her chest. The ship was massive—had been built by people who understood the sea and its dangers—yet it had still been broken against these shores. A grim reminder of how unforgiving this coast could be.
They moved on, their pace slowing as exhaustion began to take its toll.
The sun arced across the sky, offering brief respite from the cold before beginning its descent toward the western horizon.
As twilight approached, Thalia's legs trembled with fatigue, each step through the shifting dunes of frozen sand an exercise in determination.
"We should make camp," Luna suggested, her voice breathless from exertion. "Before it's fully dark."
Ashe nodded, scanning the shoreline until her gaze settled on a natural hollow between two massive rock formations. "There. It'll shelter us from the worst of the wind."
They stumbled toward the outcropping, dropping their packs with audible relief. The hollow was indeed more protected; the constant howl of the wind reduced to a manageable moan as it passed over the rocks above.
"Luna, gather driftwood for a fire," Ashe directed. "There should be plenty along the tide line. Thalia, come with me—I'll show you what we can harvest for food."
Luna trudged off toward the water's edge while Thalia followed Ashe to where the rocky shore met the sea. Ashe knelt, brushing away snow to reveal a patch of something dark and leafy clinging to the stone.
"Sea lichen," she explained. "Not particularly tasty, but edible and surprisingly filling. And here—" She moved closer to the waterline, plunging her hands into the frigid surf to extract a handful of oval-shaped shells. "Surf clams. They burrow just beneath the sand where the waves break."
With numb fingers, Thalia gathered these sparse provisions, marveling silently at Ashe's knowledge. At Frostforge, Ashe had never been a stand-out recruit; she’d shown average aptitude at best for cryomancy and metallurgy, and had graduated relatively low in the ranks, which explained her assignment to the same desolate outpost as the Southerners despite her Northern heritage.
But Thalia had come to learn that her survival skills were peerless, and out here, in this frozen wasteland, they were proving invaluable.
By the time they returned to the hollow, Luna had assembled a respectable pile of salt-bleached wood.
Ashe produced a flint from her pack, and soon they had a small fire crackling between them, its heat precious against the encroaching night.
They arranged the clams around the flames to cook, the shells popping open one by one as their contents steamed.
Following Ashe's lead, Thalia cautiously sucked one out of its shell, surprised by the mild, oceanic flavor that flooded her mouth. After weeks of the bland porridge and tough, stringy meat that had been their staple at the outpost, even these simple shellfish were a delight.
"You’re brilliant, you know," she said to Ashe when they'd finished eating. "We'd have perished many times over without you."
Ashe shrugged off the compliment, though Thalia could see the slight smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Clan children learn survival before they learn to read or hold a hammer," she said. "These skills were drilled into me by my father long before Frostforge."