Chapter 7 - Frozen Thoughts
Callan
I tried to push the thrall woman from my mind as I rode across the permafrost. There was nothing but empty stretches of white to focus on.
And her fucking brown eyes.
We rode for two days until the scenery started to change. Once we crossed into the Wilds of Galliana, there were trees locked in the clutches of winter, reminding me of the blight—something I actually needed to figure out.
Instead, the visceral disgust in my father’s voice rang through my memory. I wasn’t the frost elf he wanted me to be. As his only heir, I was his greatest disappointment. For half my life, I begged for his approval, for his love—for anything. I was given nothing but pain and scorn.
As an elfling, my magic was pathetically weak.
Because of this, he had me train with weapons so I—as he so kindly put it—would ‘amount to something of some use.’ Hours of grueling training with masters who beat me within an inch of my life.
Broken bones left no scars, just the echo of the agony beneath the skin.
As if the gods heard my silent pleas, my magic manifested all at once at the worst possible time.
Now I was perhaps the strongest our world had ever known.
Strong enough he could no longer control me.
Strong enough that the sun hadn’t broken through the clouds in the eight years since. Strong enough that he feared me.
And a whole different level of pain was inflicted upon me.
We crossed into the region of Mariss as the day waned.
I’d brought four guards with me at Magdala’s behest. I would have been faster on my own, but her fear I’d be attacked again was endearing.
It solidified my confidence that she wasn’t involved in the previous plot to kill me, but the information I’d received regarding a growing uprising was the real reason I’d accepted the security measures.
I’d executed Heirod, who’d been at the center of at least two concerning reports, but I suspected he was only a small part of a bigger movement.
And then there was her. There was nothing that could truly restrain the hatred mixed with burning curiosity I felt vibrating off the thrall woman.
Perhaps it was her magic fighting against her shackles.
Or that she’d somehow managed to breach the ward magic of the threshold to my study.
Whatever it was, it was distracting. The fact she knew of the mines in Mariss was another consideration altogether.
The average person—elf or human—didn’t have this knowledge.
It made me question who she actually was.
We’d been careful to execute all the human leaders and powerful fire mages after the war.
How her magic could feel so potent to me but slip through the cracks when she was shackled was a curious puzzle to solve.
It was just like Magdala to give a human the benefit of the doubt.
But it wasn’t like Magdala to go against my father’s edicts.
This was the part that seemed strange. She knew the rule: no humans in the royal palace.
Once I returned, I needed to make sure she understood the edict extended to my fortress as well.
We turned our horses into the wind for the last leg, riding toward a small, nameless mining village on the border of Telrain and the human region of Kaldaira.
It was warmer here, but the wind was ruthless today.
I could tell by the way they hunched over in their saddles that it bit into my guards’ skin with razor teeth.
I’d been to this village before, but never in a royal capacity. The innkeeper knew me as Cal. Not your Royal Highness, not Prince Callan. Just Cal. I’m sure the man had his suspicions, as he knew I came for gems and money had rarely been an object.
We made it to the inn before night settled over us, and I allowed my guards to retire to their rooms to rest and warm up. I loitered at the bar, sipping a strong ale while frankly lost in thought, those brown eyes taunting me.
“Well, Cal, seems you have company with you this time.” The innkeeper, Dorn, sported a warm, knowing smile, one brow raised. He was a kindly wood elf, his usual smile disarming. “Or should I call you Your Highness?”
I gave him a wry smirk. I knew he’d figure it out eventually. “Just Cal for you, always.”
He returned my smile. “Not many frost elves left. I should have put it together years ago.”
I ran my gloved fingers over the two long scars on my cheek, a habit I’d picked up since receiving them a couple months ago.
“Just like the winter blight, we’re not exactly well liked,” I said, wanting to pull my mask back up as his eyes followed the same path as my fingers.
“Bah.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Winter has its place. Without it, we wouldn’t cherish the warmth of summer nearly as much.”
“When we finally have summer again, you mean.”
But there was something in his words that made me pause, the copper curls of the thrall woman coming to mind.
I wished I could stop thinking about her.
Wished I knew why she knew about gems and why Magdala and the cat seemed drawn to her.
I needed her to be gone with the other thralls when I returned.
I needed her out of my mind.
“What brings you to the mines?”
I threw back the rest of my ale, giving me a second to form my response.
I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone knowing what I was here for other than the man I had business with.
Not that gems fit for imbuing were common knowledge, but I couldn’t underestimate anyone.
Someone had tried to kill me, and if it hadn’t been for the raging magic I hid beneath layers of clothing, they would have succeeded.
“Inspections for my father. He’s suddenly very interested in gemstones.”
Dorn nodded. “Filthy rumors about the king have been circulating, you know.”
I perked up at this. I hadn’t been made aware of any rumors about my father, only the plethora of ones about me and the rumblings of a rebellion.
“People think he’s taken the conflict with the humans a bit too far. There’s talk of genocide and heavy mistreatment of thralls.”
My heart skipped a beat. Thank the Gods it was something easy to explain.
“He would have killed all the ones left on the battlefield if he hadn’t enslaved them. But it does seem counter intuitive to have your enemies wandering freely about your household, even if their magic is shackled.”
Again, Dorn nodded, and I wondered if he’d told me the full rumor. I decided to let it be for now. I’d keep this information tucked away should I need it.
He leaned closer. “There's a word being thrown around. One that could spell a mess of trouble for you. Many here wouldn’t hesitate to join the cause. I’d take caution.
” He brushed the quiet words away, speaking at full volume for the next part.
“The humans are looking for a mage who was taken prisoner after the war. She’s apparently an imbuing master of significant power, and they’re desperate to get her back. ”
This was new. I’d had information on all of the imbuing masters on the continent at one point, and none of them had been female. The pull of the thrall woman’s magic flashed through my mind. It was so familiar. Fiery human magic I’d been exposed to before—quiet and powerful.
“She apparently volunteered to fight in the war after her brother was killed.”
“She’s likely dead, then. Any mages of considerable strength were executed.”
“A shame. We’ve a terrible shortage of imbuing mages.”
I nodded. I was well aware. I’d been trying to find one powerful enough after failing at it myself before the war.
Frost magic wasn’t effective. Imbuing needed heat—the opposite from me in every way.
Though I’d managed to imbue a few pieces of amethyst, they shattered when I tested them.
I needed something harder—something far stronger—than amethyst, which was why I’d come to Mariss.
I needed sapphires. And I needed an imbuing master strong enough to create a suppression gem with one.
My magic was dangerous. I could kill someone I cared for by touching them.
This was why I kept every inch of myself covered with fabric and ice.
It wasn’t sustainable—I wasn’t sustainable.
I could feel my sanity slipping each day.
I needed a solution, or I needed to end whatever this miserable existence was that I called life.
I threw Dorn a wry look as I stood from the bar. “I guess my father should have thought of that before he sent me to pick a fight with the best imbuing mages on the continent.”
Dorn nodded his agreement as he grabbed my empty tankard and wiped the bar top clean. “Or before he had them all put to death.”
Brown eyes flashed across my memory again.
The thrall woman’s magic had been strong enough I’d questioned if her shackles were fused properly.
There was something unusual about her, and as my mind tumbled over all the things it could possibly try to solve, it chose her face to dwell on again.
Brassy copper hair that reminded me of spring sunrise, a strong stature that came from proficiency in wielding a weapon.
For a human, her facial proportions were delicate—full cheeks tapering to a dainty chin, pouty lips, and an adorable round nose. Beautiful. For a human.
The first time I’d seen her, I’d been thankful to still have my helm on.
I wouldn’t have been able to hide the way I’d stared unabashedly as she kneeled before me.
It had felt like a fragment of my soul had been ripped out and dropped into the pail of scalding water beside her.
To think that a human woman could stop me dead in my tracks...
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to clear the memory. I didn’t need the distraction.
“Can I get you anything else, Highness?”
“Dorn, please. Call me Cal.”
He smiled and nodded.
“And I just need a good night’s sleep.”
I dragged my weary body up to my room before he could say anything more.