Page 45 of Frostforge, Passage Six
She thought back to their arrival on the fortress-whale, how quickly events could have turned violent.The Wardens had outnumbered them significantly; they could have overwhelmed Thalia, Roran, and Ashe without difficulty.Instead, Captain Cassia had chosen dialogue.She had invited them into her quarters, shared knowledge that had been guarded for generations, offered them safety when they had arrived as intruders.
"How much blood could have been spared?"Thalia whispered to the empty corridor, her voice barely audible above the leviathan's distant groans."How many lives, if we had only talked sooner?"
The endless cycle of retribution that had defined relations between Wardens and mainlanders for nearly a century seemed suddenly absurd in light of the true threat lurking in the depths.They had been fighting each other while something ancient and terrible gathered strength beneath them all—like children squabbling over toys as their house burned around them.
Footsteps approached from the adjoining passage—soft, measured steps that hesitated slightly, as if their owner wasn't certain of welcome.Thalia didn't look up; she recognized Roran's gait, the particular rhythm of his stride that set him apart from the Warden guards whose boots struck the stone with military precision.
"Hey," he said, his voice subdued as he came to stand before her.
She lifted her gaze, taking in his exhausted features, the wild curls now flecked with beads of sea spray that caught the lamplight like tiny crystals.His shoulders curved inward, as if bearing an invisible weight.The storm magic that usually simmered just beneath his skin seemed dormant now, spent or suppressed in the aftermath of what they had witnessed.
"The guards say we're making good progress," he continued, gesturing vaguely in what she presumed was the direction of their travel."Heading up the southeastern coast toward Frostforge's fjord.Slow but steady."
Thalia nodded, grateful for the practical information that required no emotional response."Thank you," she managed, her voice emerging rougher than she expected.
"They also say the Deep Ones don't venture into these shallower waters."His fingers tapped against his thigh, a nervous gesture she had noticed during their years at Frostforge."We're safe.For now."
The word "safe" caught in Thalia's chest like a barbed seed.Safety purchased with Cassia's life.Safety that might be as fleeting as the calm between storms.She thought of Verdant Port, of how its inhabitants had believed themselves safe behind city walls until Warden ships appeared on the horizon.Of how the Wardens themselves had believed their archipelago home secure until islands began disappearing without warning.
"How do you think Frostforge will react?"Roran asked, breaking into her thoughts."When a fortress-whale appears in their waters?"
The question was one she had been avoiding since proposing this plan.Frostforge had been built for the express purpose of defending against Warden threats its very architecture designed to repel the enemy she now sought to deliver to their doorstep.
Instructor Wolfe would likely call for immediate offensive action.The Northern students would demand blood.The Southern refugees already sheltered there would panic at the sight of their former captors.
"I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head.The weight of planning, of strategy, felt impossible to bear in this moment."I can't—I can't think about that right now."
Roran studied her for a long moment, then lowered himself to sit beside her, his back against the same wall, elbows resting on bent knees.He didn't speak, didn't offer empty reassurances or demand she pull herself together.He simply existed beside her, his breathing gradually synchronizing with her own in the confined space.
The sounds of the fortress filled the silence between them—distant voices murmuring in the flowing Warden tongue, the creak of mechanisms adjusting to the whale's movement, the occasional splash of water against the structure's lower sections.Where before the fortress had hummed with activity, now it seemed muted, subdued.The civilians who had greeted each other with animated chatter now spoke in hushed tones, if they spoke at all.Grief hung in the air like salt spray, permeating every corner of the living vessel.
Thalia became aware of the gentle rocking beneath them, smoother now in the shallower waters but still noticeable—a constant reminder that they sat not on solid ground but on the back of a creature older than any human institution.She had barely registered this movement before the Deep Ones' attack, had managed to ignore the organic nature of their sanctuary.Now, she couldn't help but feel it—the subtle rise and fall, the minute adjustments as the leviathan navigated coastal currents, the steady, measured pace of a being that measured her life in centuries rather than years.
"I can feel her now," she said softly, placing her palm flat against the floor."The whale.Moving.Breathing.Before, I could pretend we were in a normal fortress, but now..."
Roran nodded, understanding without need for further explanation."Once you notice it, you can't go back," he agreed."It's like..."He hesitated, searching for words."Like the first time I realized I could sense storms gathering before anyone else could see them.After that, the sky never looked the same again."
Their hands lay on the stone floor between them, close enough that Thalia could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.Neither moved to close that small distance, yet neither withdrew from it either.In the dim corridor, with grief hanging heavy around them, that proximity felt like its own form of courage.
"Cassia thought I hated her," Roran murmured suddenly, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall.
"You did," Thalia replied, the words emerging before she could consider their impact.
He turned to look at her, his expression conflicted."She thought I hated myself.For what I am."His fingers curled inward, nails scraping against stone.
Thalia didn't answer, though the words echoed in her mind:You do.She had watched Roran's struggle with his Warden heritage since their first days at Frostforge, had seen how viciously he fought against the storm magic that flowed in his veins.How desperately he tried to prove himself more continental than the continentals, more dedicated to Frostforge's mission than anyone else.
The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but weighted with unspoken understanding.Eventually, Roran's fingers uncurled, drifting sideways until they brushed against hers on the stone floor.The contact was feather-light, possibly accidental, yet neither withdrew.His hand settled partially over hers, warm and calloused from years of sailing and training.
"That thing out there," he said after another long pause, voice barely above a whisper."That was the real threat.All this time."
Thalia nodded, remembering the darkness that had enveloped their schooner, the unnatural storm that had gathered with impossible speed, the feeling of wrongness that had permeated the air itself."Yes."
"How much of this fighting..."He swallowed hard enough that she could hear it."How much death could have been avoided?If we'd known?"
"I've been thinking the same thing," Thalia admitted, her voice catching."We've all been pawns in a needless war.Northerners, Southerners, Wardens alike."Bitterness surged through her, sharp and unexpected."Dying for nothing while the real enemy grew stronger in the depths."
She thought of the children in Verdant Port who had grown up fatherless, motherless because of Warden attacks.Of the Warden refugees now huddled in the fortress's lower chambers, driven from their ancestral homes by a force they couldn't fight.All of it connected, all of it part of a cycle of fear and retribution that had spiraled beyond anyone's control.
