Page 26 of A Storm of Fire and Ice

As we continued searching for clues, a feeling of warmth and fondness came over me as I thought about the strong bond we’d formed together. Apart from Fannar and I, most of us had only just met a few days ago.

Hours passed as we pored over countless scrolls and tomes. My eyes grew weary from squinting at the tiny script. A headache brewed behind my temples from breathing in all the dust and the scent of musty papers.

Just as the allure of dinner threatened the hope of finding anything useful, a fragment of parchment slipped from between the pages of a crumbling book. I cautiously unfurled the fragile, aged paper, expecting it to be another dead-end. My breath caught as I scanned the faded words.

“Guys, listen to this!” I said, my heart racing with excitement. “It’s about the brooch.” I read aloud from the page. “‘Under the dark skies of a moonless night, an ancient and malevolent sorceress named Lady Calista sought the unparalleled power and strength of the gods. Utilizing the lost forbidden arts of Chaos Magic, she crafted a brooch of a black rose and imbued it with an arcane power never before seen by the Enchanted Realm. The brooch not only amplified the natural Enchanted powers of its wearer but also allowed them to wield Chaos Magic itself.’”

“Chaos Magic?” Helena cocked her head to one side.

“I’ve heard of it,” Brontes said grimly. “But it’s extinct.”

“Not entirely, it seems.” Fannar frowned. “If she can use Chaos Magic, it’s no wonder why she could conquer the entire realm in other dimensions.”

“Wait, there’s more,” I interjected and continued reading from the delicate, yellowed sheet of parchment. “‘But a courageous group of Enchanted warriors united to confront Lady Calista and her ruinous power. They battled for three days and three nights, leaving the skies ablaze with the force of their magic. With the gods on their side, the warriors defeated the malevolent sorceress, shattering the brooch and ensuring its destructive power was buried forever. Today, we celebrate the one-hundredth anniversary of the day the Enchanted Realm was freed from the threat of the Black Rose Brooch.’ This was dated over three-hundred years ago,” I finished.

“So the brooch was destroyed more than four-hundred years ago?” Fannar pondered.

“Or so they thought,” Helena retorted.

“How is that possible if Obsidia has it?” Brontes asked.

“Hang on.” I paused thoughtfully. “According to this, the Black Rose Brooch was destroyed in our world . . . but what if the brooch in Obsidia’s dimension remained intact? She just brought the one from her world into ours.”

Helena nodded. “That would explain it.”

“Then we need to finish what those warriors started,” Fannar declared. “We have to find a way to destroy her version of the brooch.”

“Do you remember that prophecy Obsidia mentioned?” I asked, trying to recall the exact words she said.

Brontes’s eyes lit up. “Yes! She said that if she killed Gwyneira, the prophecy would never be fulfilled.”

“When she attacked the Ice Castle, she said something else too.” Helena furrowed her brow in concentration.

“Right, I remember that.” Fannar tapped his fingers on his chin. “A storm of fire and ice.”

“Hmmm . . .” I turned to Fannar and Helena. “Do you think they’re the same or different prophecies?”

Helena shook her head. “No idea, but they must be connected somehow to what Obsidia has planned.”

Brontes’s gaze met mine. I saw the gears turning in his head. “If we can figure them out, they could be the keys to stopping Obsidia.”

“Agreed.” A fierce determination hardened Fannar’s face. “We need to find out more about these prophecies.”

Suddenly, my stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, rudely reminding me that we had skipped lunch. I glanced out the window. Dusk’s fingers were already caressing the sky.

“But how about dinner, first?” Brontes put his arm around my shoulders with a wry smile.

Helena smiled. “Yeah, let’s pick this up tomorrow. We got a lot done today.”

Chapter Eight

Helena

Themustyscentofancient pages tickled my nose as I trawled through another dusty book, the words about Enchantedthisand magicthatblurring together. Fannar, Gwyneira, and Brontes sat around the long study table, each reading their own thick volume on Enchanted history. We’d been cooped up for hours in the academy library, the four of us continuing our research from the previous day of scouring every document we could find about Obsidia and the prophesies.

After shutting book number twelve of the day, I rose from my chair to gather more when Gwyneira’s soft voice caught me.

“Helena, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” She looked up at me with her pale blue eyes.

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