Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
The frigid breath of winter whispered into Gisela’s ears. The harsh reality of the chamber had faded, replaced by rolling hills blanketed in pristine snow. Snowflakes drifted down and settled on her hair and eyelashes. Her once bloodied face was now clean and unblemished.
“Where am I?”
“Your awakening,” an ancient, serene voice echoed around her. “Not life, not death. The place in between.”
Gisela closed her eyes and drew in the crisp air. When she opened them again, a stunning figure of ice stood towering over her, radiating power.
“I am Eira, your Primal,” the figure said. “I am the extension of one whose essence you feel. Their name is not yours to call upon yet. It is a key to immense power that must be earned.”
“I can’t know the name of the god who gifted me?”
Eira floated closer. “Not yet. But the strength it grants you will grow with your understanding. For now, trust in what I lend you. One day, you will know when to call.”
Gisela observed every detail of Eira’s presence.
The Primal’s translucent form glowed with a fluid blue radiance, her body etched with frost patterns that looked alive, curling and twisting to the wind’s rhythm.
Icy tendrils extended from her fingertips.
Her eyes, an ocean blue, were piercing yet kind, locking onto Gisela in a way that made the world around them fade.
“Did I die?” Gisela asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“Quite the opposite.”
“What am I?”
“You are a Frostweaver,” Eira explained.
“It was not by chance that I chose you, Gisela. The Primals align with those whose spirits resonate with their own. You were chosen because of your strength and resilience.” She paused, allowing her words to sink in.
“Your heart carries the quiet strength of a snow-laden forest and the determination of a river that refuses to freeze.”
Gisela couldn’t look away. Her mind was a rush of questions and admiration melting together. As Eira spoke, their connection thrummed within her chest. Deep, profound, and undeniable.
“You see,” Eira continued, “our bond is forged from the same essence. Together we can weave the frost and help restore the balance that has been disrupted.”
At the last of her words, the chill in the air no longer stung. A cold pulse bloomed at the soles of her feet and rose, settling into her marrow—exploring, then obeying.
For a fleeting moment, there was only serenity. Clarity followed, and in its wake came the memory.
“Where is Thorne?”
Eira bowed her head and closed her eyes. A few seconds passed, and they snapped open.
“We need to return.”
In a flash of blinding white light, Gisela’s surroundings shifted.
When the light faded, she was back in the dark chamber.
The haunting image of Thorne being crushed and plummeting to the ground twisted her stomach.
She scanned the room until she found him on the other side, sitting with his elbows on his knees, the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes.
Relief loosened her chest. He was alive. Whole.
She crossed the chamber with a new steadiness in her stride. Energy she had never felt before pulsed through her veins, and a faint smile touched her lips as Eira’s presence stirred within her.
Gisela crouched beside him. “Hey, I was so worried,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm. His skin was scorching.
“Don’t touch me,” Thorne snapped.
She recoiled. “What’s wrong, Thorne?” she asked gently.
He looked up, eyes wild with fury and something raw underneath.
“You saw what I endured. My father beating my mother half to death. Degrading me, screaming that I was a worthless coward of a son. All while trying to keep you alive. Then I nearly die by some excruciating poison. And for what? For some demon to kill us anyway? To crush me to death?”
Gisela swallowed hard. The memory of his suffering flashed vividly in her mind. “Thorne . . . we had to face this for the awakening.” She paused, trying to tread lightly. When he didn’t respond she asked, “Did you meet your Primal?”
Thorne scoffed. “Yeah, I met him. I reject him. I reject this entire thing.”
“This isn’t you,” Gisela whispered.
Eira’s voice echoed inside of Gisela’s mind, “It will take time. Give him grace. This anger isn’t uncommon in Flamekeepers.” Eira materialized beside Gisela.
Thorne shifted his focus toward her, studying the ethereal being. His expression shifted from curiosity to distrust.
He shut his eyes—
And behind him, a figure of black fire took shape, tall and imposing. Swirling ebony flames wrapped around a broad chest and powerful arms. His eyes, set deep within the blaze, burned with a fierce intensity that locked onto Gisela’s.
Her breath caught in her throat at the strength of his gaze.
“Ignitus,” Eira greeted, her eyes meeting his like two storms colliding.
“Eira,” he returned with a smirk.
Thorne and Gisela gawked between them.
“Do you two . . . know each other?” Gisela asked.
“You could say that,” Ignitus replied.
Gisela blinked as questions she couldn’t even begin to decipher came flooding in.
Ignitus turned his burning gaze to Thorne. “Reject me all you like, but fate doesn’t bend for you. Accept it or be consumed by it.”
Thorne’s expression hardened.
Gisela’s body temperature dropped. She shivered from head to toe, the searing chill biting into her bones.
Thorne, on the other hand, burned. Sweat beaded on his entire body. He tugged off every layer until only his underwear remained.
“Eira, what’s happening to us?” Gisela managed through chattering teeth.
Eira’s expression softened. “Your bodies are adjusting to your elements. It is . . . unpleasant, but necessary.”
Thorne snorted. “Of course, more suffering.”
Eira glanced at Ignitus, whispering, “He’s moody, that one.”
“I expected as much,” Ignitus said, before vanishing into Thorne in a burst of dark flame.
Eira turned to Gisela. “You will survive this. It will be uncomfortable, but you would do well to find comfort in each other.”
Before Gisela could ask what she meant, Eira faded into mist.
Gisela sighed and looked over at Thorne. He refused to look her way. Feeling too cold to argue, she curled up on the stone floor, clinging to what little warmth remained in her body.
Thorne lay sprawled, his body pulsing with heat, trapped in a fever that refused to break.
He had awoken with Ignitus in a volcanic expanse, beside a small red-orange flame that burned nothing like his own black fire.
Anger trembled through him, leaving him hollow.
It blazed through his mind, distorting everything it touched.
The trial hadn’t truly ended. It lived under his skin now—in his blood, and in the Primal fused to him.
Gisela’s soft, uneven breaths reached him. The sound of her teeth chattering and her body trembling tugged at something in his chest.
He gave in and inched toward her.
His burning skin met her icy chill, and the relief sank deeper than temperature alone. He pressed his chest to her back, curling himself to the shape of her body, his head settling beside her silky brown hair.
She inhaled sharply. Her body stiffened at the contact before a soft sound escaped her lips, and Thorne sighed as his warmth eased her trembling. For the first time since the trials began, peace settled. Together, they drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep.