Page 4 of Frostforge: Passage Four
Thalia paused on a landing, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes.The stone beneath her palm throbbed with the distant pulse of the forge — the great bellows breathing, the hammers falling, the heart of Frostforge beating on despite the wounds inflicted upon its outer shell.She drew strength from that steady rhythm, straightened her shoulders, and continued downward.
By the time she reached the lowest level, sweat beaded on her forehead.The corridor here was stifling, the air thick with heat that shimmered visibly against the rough-hewn stone.The great iron doors of the forge loomed ahead, their surfaces etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly red from the constant exposure to heat.
Thalia hesitated, her hand hovering over the door handle.She realized she was afraid — afraid that entering the forge without Kaine there would somehow make his absence real in a way that nothing else had.She had managed to hold herself together during the long journey north, had maintained her composure through the assembly, but this — this might break her.
She steeled herself and pushed the door open.
Heat rushed out to greet her, a familiar embrace that wrapped around her like a living thing.The forge spread before her, cavernous and alive with orange light and dancing shadows.Furnaces glowed along the walls, their throats swallowing coal and spitting flame.Apprentices and skilled metalworkers hunched over anvils, their forms silhouetted against the forge-light.
And then she heard it — a rhythm she would know anywhere.The distinctive pattern of hammer strikes, the particular tempo, and the weight that belonged to only one person.
Her heart lurched painfully in her chest as her eyes found him, stationed at his usual workbench in the far corner.Kaine.His broad shoulders hunched in concentration, muscles shifting beneath his thin shirt as he brought the hammer down again and again on a length of glowing metal.
She moved without conscious thought, weaving between the workstations, dodging the sparks that flew from nearby anvils.He didn't look up, lost in the focus that always seemed to possess him when he worked.It wasn't until she stood directly across from him that he paused, hammer suspended mid-strike.
His eyes, ice-blue and startling against his soot-streaked face, widened in recognition.
"Thalia."
Just her name, spoken in that low voice that had haunted her dreams all summer.She couldn't speak, couldn't find words past the tightness in her throat.Instead, she rounded the workbench and threw her arms around him, heedless of the sweat and grime that covered his skin.
For a moment, he stood rigid, then his arms encircled her, the hammer still clutched in one hand pressing awkwardly against her back.
"What are you doing here?"she finally managed, pulling back just enough to see his face without breaking their embrace."I thought — you graduated —"
A rare smile softened his severe features."Instructor Wolfe was promoted to Maven’s old post.They needed someone to take over her forge duties."He shrugged, a gesture that attempted to downplay what they both knew was an unprecedented honor for someone so young."I'm good with metal.They asked me to stay."
"As an instructor?"Thalia couldn't keep the wonder from her voice.
"Assistant instructor," he corrected, finally releasing her and stepping back to his anvil.He set down the hammer and picked up a pair of tongs, adjusting the position of the cooling metal."Officially, I'm still learning.Unofficially..."He glanced around the forge, at the students who cast curious looks in their direction."I'm given a certain amount of freedom."
Thalia watched him work, the familiar rhythm of his movements both comforting and mesmerizing.The moment stretched between them, filled with the heat of the forge and things unsaid.When he looked up and met her eyes again, she felt that heat bloom inside her chest, spreading outward until her fingertips tingled with it.
"I'm glad you're still here," she said softly."I didn't want to face this year without you."
The corner of his mouth quirked upward — not quite a smile, but something warmer than his usual stern expression.Thalia stepped back, giving him space to work, but she remained nearby, content to watch him.In the glow of the forge, with Kaine's steady presence beside her, the chill that had settled in her chest since her return began to thaw.
CHAPTER THREE
Thalia's breath misted in the frigid air of the Crystalline Plateau, a cloud of white that dispersed into nothingness against the vast, pale expanse.The fourth-years huddled in a loose formation, their ice-steel weapons glinting in the harsh northern light, eyes squinting against the glare that reflected off the glassy surface beneath their boots.They'd been waiting for nearly half an hour, and the biting cold had wormed its way through the seams of Thalia's thermal gear, settling against her skin like an unwelcome memory.
"Any idea what 'Command' means?"Luna whispered beside her, the words carried away by the wind that perpetually scoured the plateau."My schedule just said to report here at first bell."
Thalia shook her head, adjusting the leather strap of her blade's sheath across her chest."No clue.Another of Wolfe's innovations, I suppose."
Nearby, Brynn Firstborn paced in tight circles, her steps precise and impatient.The Southern noble's daughter never showed discomfort in the cold, as if admitting to such weakness might somehow validate the Northern students' assumptions of Southern inferiority.Three paces behind her, Ashe stood motionless, her posture rigid as the ice-metal spear she gripped.The red streaks in her black hair caught the light like rivulets of fresh blood against the stark white backdrop.
Roran hung back at the edge of the group, engaging in low conversation with two other Southern recruits.The sight of him sent a complicated ripple through Thalia's chest.They hadn't spoken since their return to the academy three days prior.Their parting at the end of last term had been...ambiguous, to say the least.A moment charged with something more than friendship, followed by a summer apart with too many questions left suspended between them.
A sharp crack echoed across the plateau, commanding immediate attention.Instructor Calloway approached with clipped footsteps, her dark hair pulled severely from her face, silver streaks catching the light.Her icy blue eyes swept over the assembled fourth-years with an intensity that made Thalia's spine straighten instinctively.
"Form ranks," Calloway called, her voice carrying without effort across the windswept space.
The students snapped into position — three rows of eight, organized by height rather than origin, though this still generally placed Northerners toward the back, as they were taller on average.Thalia found herself in the middle row, Luna in front of her, Brynn to her right.Roran stood directly behind her; she could sense his presence without looking.
Thalia frowned, tension coiling in her stomach.Calloway's presence was unexpected.The woman was Frostforge's foremost expert on Isle Warden tactics and culture — what was she doing teaching a course called "Command"?
"Fourth-years," Calloway began, pacing before them with measured steps, "this term marks a significant change in your curriculum.As final-year students, you stand at the precipice of graduation and commission into our military forces."She stopped, her gaze penetrating."Some of you may eventually be deemed suitable for positions of command."
