Brynn didn't hesitate.She thrust both hands forward, ice crystals forming in the air before her palms, then coalescing into deadly shards that shot toward the advancing Wardens.Two managed to dodge, but the third took the blast full in the chest, the impact driving him backward several steps before he crumpled.
"Now!"Brynn shouted, already gathering energy for another attack.
The students surged forward with a ragged battle cry, wielding whatever they had managed to salvage.The Northern girl swung her staff with surprising skill, cracking it against a Warden's knee.A Southern boy hurled a chunk of broken stone, striking another in the shoulder.
Thalia found herself facing the Warden with the curved sword, his painted lips pulled back in a snarl of contempt.She still held the hilt of her shattered sword; she couldn’t bring herself to pry her numb fingers from the leather, to let it drop.It would be like conceding the battle.
She feinted left, then ducked right as he swung, the sword passing so close she felt the displacement of air against her cheek.Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the cacophony of battle around them.She had trained for years, honed her body into a weapon, but now she felt as helpless as she had in her first days at Frostforge—a Southern slum girl playing at being a soldier.
The Warden lunged again, his movements fluid as water.Thalia twisted away, but her boot caught on a piece of debris, sending her stumbling backward.She fell hard, the impact driving the breath from her lungs, and the Warden advanced with a predator's smile, sword raised for the killing blow.
A blast of ice struck him from the side, encasing his sword arm in frost.Brynn stood ten paces away, face contorted with effort, both hands extended toward the Warden.The ice spread rapidly, climbing up his arm toward his shoulder.
Thalia didn't waste the opportunity.She rolled to her feet, snatched up a broken timber, and swung it with all her strength at the Warden's head.The wood connected with a sickening crack, and he dropped like a stone.
"Thanks," she gasped, meeting Brynn's eyes.“Again.”
Brynn nodded curtly, already turning to face the next threat."We need to move.The keep is our only chance."
Through a momentary break in the mist, Thalia saw a familiar figure across the battlefield—tall, straight-backed, his Northern features set in lines of grim determination.Einar Frostborne stood with his back to a toppled column, his ice-steel sword flashing as he fended off a massive Isle Warden whose muscles bulged beneath his dark armor.The Warden wielded a curved black-metal blade that whistled through the air with each powerful swing.Electricity crackled in its wake, an arc of lightning tracing its edge.
Despite everything—despite Einar's testimony against Roran, despite years of animosity between them—Thalia felt a surge of admiration for his skill.His footwork was impeccable, each movement economical and precise, evading the black blade rather than meeting it directly.He had clearly improved since graduating from Frostforge, his natural talent honed to lethal perfection.
But even as she watched, she knew what would happen.It was inevitable, written in the laws of battle.Sooner or later, blade would meet blade.
The moment came with brutal swiftness.The Warden feinted high, then swung low.Einar, reacting on instinct trained into muscle memory through countless drills, brought his sword down to parry—a textbook defense that would have saved his life against any conventional opponent.
The black blade met ice-steel, and Einar's sword shattered.The sound carried across the battlefield, a discordant note in the symphony of combat.Einar stared at the useless hilt in his hand, disbelief flashing across his features in the instant before the Warden's backswing caught him in the chest.
The black blade punched through ice-steel armor as if it were parchment, burying itself to the hilt in Einar's torso.His body jerked, spine arching at an impossible angle, mouth opening in a silent scream.The Warden let out a bellow of triumph, lifting Einar's impaled body from the ground before letting him slide off the blade into a crumpled heap.
Thalia's vision tunneled, the edges darkening as she watched Einar fall.She had imagined his death countless times during their years of rivalry, in her darker moments, had even wished for it.But now, seeing it made real, she felt nothing but hollow horror.Einar had been arrogant, prejudiced, and cruel in his hatred of Southerners, but he had also been skilled, dedicated, and a product of the same flawed system that had shaped them all.
For a moment, Thalia was frozen in place.Then another flash of lightning illuminated the plateau, revealing more bodies strewn across the ground, more students falling back in disarray, more Wardens advancing with methodical precision.The realization struck her with the force of a physical blow: they were losing.Badly.
"Greenspire, get it together!"Brynn's voice penetrated her shock, sharp with urgency."They're breaking through!"
The words jolted her back to the present.She blinked, forcing herself to focus, to think past the panic clawing at her throat.This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about minimizing losses, about protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.About the refugees sheltering in the keep, people like Zanaya, who had already lost everything once.
She wouldn't let them lose everything again.
"Fall back to the keep!"she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos with unexpected authority."Form defensive lines!Three ranks!"
To her surprise, people listened.Students turned toward her voice, recognizing the command in it, responding to the certainty she projected despite the doubt churning in her gut.They began to move, not in panic but with purpose, the stronger helping the injured, the cryomancers providing covering blasts of ice to slow the Warden's advance.
"First rank, cryomancers only!"she continued, gesturing to positions closer to the keep's entrance."Create a barrier.Second rank, anyone with non-ice weapons!Third rank, injured and support!"
Brynn caught her eye, something like approval flashing across her aristocratic features.She moved to organize the cryomancers, barking orders with the authority of her noble upbringing, directing their attacks to create a barrier of ice between them and the advancing Wardens.
Thalia turned to the scattered fighters who had rallied to her call."We need to hold the entrance," she said, pitching her voice to carry without shouting."The refugees in the keep can't defend themselves.We're their only protection."
The mention of refugees brought a flicker of hesitation to some faces—Northern students who had been raised to view Southerners with suspicion or disdain.But others nodded with fresh determination, perhaps thinking of their own families in distant cities, perhaps simply responding to the reminder that innocent lives hung in the balance.
The storm grew fiercer with each passing minute, the wind now strong enough to stagger the fighters mid-stride.Lightning forked across the sky in complex patterns that seemed almost deliberate, striking the ground with increasing frequency.A bolt seared down directly into the wooden frame of the amphitheater, the thunderclap that followed so loud it momentarily deafened Thalia.
A fire erupted where the lightning struck; the timber was dry from the mountain air and was devoured in flames in an instant.Within heartbeats, an entire section of the amphitheater was ablaze.The fire spread rapidly, consuming the wooden structure, sending embers swirling into the air to dance on the fierce winds.
The sight of flames licking at the amphitheater's skeleton jolted something in Thalia's memory.Lightning.Fire.Storm magic.
