Page 30 of Frostforge: Passage Two

Instructor Maven strode toward them, her single amber eye blazing with fury, the metal patch over her missing eye reflecting the torchlight like a small, angry sun.The students froze mid-motion, the air suddenly electric with a different kind of tension.

"What in the frozen hell is going on here?"Maven demanded, her scarred hands already separating combatants.

Nash wiped blood from his split lip."He attacked me, Instructor.Unprovoked.We were just talking and —"

"That's not true," Thalia interrupted, finally reaching the group."I heard you taunting him.Calling him —"

"Did I ask for your input, Greenspire?"Maven cut her off, the metal claw pendant at her neck swinging as she turned."Return to your quarters.All of you," she barked at the onlookers who had gathered during the fight.Then, to the participants: "Nash, take your friends to the infirmary.You —" she pointed at Roran, "— stay put."

Nash smirked as he backed away.He and his friends departed with muttered threats disguised as compliance, leaving Roran slumped against the wall, Maven looming over him, and Thalia hovering uncertainly nearby.

Roran's face was a mess.His left eye had already begun to swell, a dark bruise blooming across his cheekbone.Blood trickled from a split in his lower lip, and he held his ribs protectively.Despite this, he straightened under Maven's scrutiny, defiance written in every line of his body.

"I won't apologize," he said before Maven could speak.

The Instructor studied him with her single, unnerving eye."Did I ask for an apology, recruit?"

"No, but —"

"Then save your breath.This is the third altercation you've been involved in this month."Maven's voice lowered."The academy doesn't look kindly on those who can't control their tempers.Especially not with the weapons thefts unresolved."

Roran stiffened."You think I —"

"I think," Maven interrupted, "that a smart recruit would be keeping his head down and staying out of trouble right now.Particularly a Southern recruit with...unusual skills."

The implication hung in the air between them, heavy as a glacier.Thalia held her breath.

Roran's face hardened.Without another word, he pushed himself off the wall, wincing slightly as he straightened.He shot one unreadable glance at Thalia — not quite anger, not quite gratitude — before stalking past Maven and disappearing down the corridor, leaving a few drops of blood on the stone floor in his wake.

Maven's eye followed him, then flicked to Thalia."Something to add, Greenspire?"

Thalia swallowed."He didn't start it.Not really.Nash called him —"

"Let me give you some advice," Maven said, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr."Frostforge doesn't care about fairness.It cares about strength and survival.Your friend would do well to remember that."She tapped the bear claw at her neck."And so would you."

With that, she turned and strode away, her footsteps echoing in the now-empty corridor.

Thalia stood alone, torn between following Roran and giving him space.The last time she'd tried to help, he'd pushed her away with cold finality.Yet the image of his battered face and the carefully blank expression as he left stirred something protective in her chest.

She retrieved her bag from where she'd thrown it, brushing off the dust.The corridor felt colder now, the morning light harsher.Somewhere in Frostforge, weapons continued to disappear, ancient secrets lurked beneath the stones, and Senna conducted experiments with stolen metals.And now Roran was bleeding and alone, possibly suspected of theft by the instructors themselves.

Thalia sighed, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder."Prioritize," she murmured to herself, her mother's favorite word when the herb shop became overwhelming.The problem was, at Frostforge, everything seemed equally important — equally dangerous to ignore.

She cast one last glance in the direction Roran had gone.The corridor stretched empty and silent, offering no answers.With reluctance weighing her steps, Thalia turned away.She'd check on him later when his pride had healed a little.For now, she had advanced metallurgy in ten minutes, and Frostforge had made it clear that tardiness was unacceptable for Southern students.

***

The Crystalline Plateau jutted from Frostforge's eastern face like a glass blade, its surface a sheet of ice so clear it seemed to capture the sky itself.Thalia's breath plumed in the frigid air as she made the final climb, her fingers stiff inside her gloves despite the warming charm she'd activated before leaving the academy proper.She'd known Roran might be here — had overheard him mention once that he came to the plateau when he needed to think, drawn to its isolation and the view of the strange, frozen wasteland below.What she didn't know was whether he'd welcome her presence or turn her away like he had in the corridor a few days before.

The wind bit at her exposed face as she crested the rise, carrying the scent of ice and distant pine.The plateau stretched before her, a flat expanse of translucent blue-white that ended in a sheer drop to the valley below.And there, silhouetted against the vast northern sky, stood Roran.

He hadn't noticed her yet.He stood with his back to the academy, face turned toward the horizon, his wild black curls whipping in the wind.Even from a distance, Thalia could see the rigid set of his shoulders, the way he flexed and unfurled his bruised hands at his sides.The swelling around his eye had darkened to a violent purple that stood out starkly against his brown skin.

Thalia hesitated.Perhaps she should leave him to his solitude.But before she could decide, Roran turned slightly, catching sight of her from the corner of his blackened eye.He didn't wave or call out — just turned back to the view, which she took as neither invitation nor rejection.

She crossed the ice carefully, the special grips on her boots preventing her from slipping.When she reached him, she said nothing, merely took up position beside him, close but not touching, and followed his gaze out over the valley below.

The Golem Fields stretched to the horizon, a frozen graveyard of metal and stone.Hundreds — perhaps thousands — of constructs littered the valley.Some were small as children, others towered three times the height of a man.Some were immobile, frozen where they stood, or else slumped over in useless heaps of metal; others were still active, roving through the fields or waiting to be activated by proximity.All were dusted with snow, their metal joints glittering in the weak winter sun.Years of accumulated ice had transformed many into abstract sculptures, their original forms only vaguely discernible beneath crystalline shells.

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