Page 57 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“This is against my will old man, the only thing missing are shackles,” Mal complained. “The idiot I proudly call my brother didn’t even care to ask for my opinion.”

“We will be fine,” I reassured, but it was not us Mal worried, to my dissatisfaction it was her, the princess.

“You better be, you two are my responsibility. I gave my word to your father the day both of you were born and when I swore at your blessings day, don’t make me face him up in heavens with a scowl, he had a terrible angry expression.”

“He was a terrible man.”

“Mal,” I called sternly.

Larg frowned at his ill tongue directed at the man he’d once called a brother.

My brother clicked his tongue, shadows of disdain swirling his head. “Sometimes I forget us people of truth cannot bear the truth.”

We greeted Larg and the guards at our side of the wall and headed out of Zone of Peace. As instructed by Silas, a dozen soldiers dressed in the blue royal guard uniform were waiting for us just outside.

We rode through the brisk snowy terrain, my eyes hurt from the white of snow, it took a long while till they adjusted to the landscape. The Isjordian guards guided us through what they called Fernby forest to a black stoned road that curved like a black snake for miles, this was their manner of quick travel through the kingdom. I finally understood how despite the thick snow, Isjordian captains travelled down to Highwall for trials almost within hours after being notified.

After hours of travel, the captain of the Isjordian group notified us of a halt to feed and rest the horses. When we dismounted, the ground felt foreign, the snow was crunchy and satisfying when we swished past.

Mal removed his glove and touched the ground lifting snow on his hand. He looked at me madly. “How is it that it's cold, but it burns?” he asked shaking and wiping his hand to his clothes.

The Isjordian soldiers laughed at his comment and explained to him that because it was so cold it felt like burning his skin, to which he still looked confused after.

“Doesn’t it bother you, the continuous cold?” I asked, feeling the brisk wind bite dull pain on my neck.

“We cannot feel it, to us the snow is purifying and warm. To the land is like a blanket of life,” the captain explained, fisting a bunch of the white mush. “The lands of Isjord before the gods were lifeless and dry, we might not be able to cultivate much but now they are liveable lands, if not full of life,”

Isjordian history has always been the one to draw yawns from me, and history was one of my guilty indulgences. I drowned those books by the dozen, most of those in Amaris city library had already been read by me. I suppose with the exception of those belonging to Isjord, relatively boring just like their brooding god and dull blessings.

The soldiers were polite but still cautious around us, I saw the shadows of their tension and distrust, their hands never leaving the hilts of their swords or turning their back to us. We had agreed to keep our magic hidden till we judged the right circumstances, it would not be smart to appear a threat afront them.

The day started to grow dark, we had not seen the sun the whole day, tucked between grey clouds it had only served as a source of light to the land. Just as it was beginning to turn completely dark the torches lit automatically and revealed Tenebrose walls hidden by night. They rose dark grey between the empty landscape, hundreds of guards patrolled the surface above and the front black metallic gates which opened to let us in. The city stood grand, wooden buildings with black stoned roofs crowded for miles close to one another, almost as a unit. Above the city, a thick layer of soot and smoke from the burning wood leaked from chimneys, hovering almost like a second sky. Roads all laid in the same black stone, clear from snow and warm. It resembled gloom incarnate, yet it smelled light on baked bread and vanilla.

The castle grounds grew in sight as we left the city behind. Laying atop a large rock overlooking the city, Tenebrose castle carried the might of its owners.

“It fits the character, dark, cold and stony. Though rather bloodless, I expected head on pikes, crows nipping on guts and all of that,” Mal said as we entered towards their stables.

“Never speak too soon,” I warned. Everything was expected out of Silas, one didn’t just get the name kingdom slayer. This one deserved it too.

We were led through gardens covered in snow, red roses peaked from behind the covered bushes looking like blood droplets against the white blanket. Not at all how we had imagined Isjord.

Several servants and soldiers halted to stare at us as we made our way to meet the king. Fear rounded their heads and a deep forgotten guilt churned in my stomach.

Had my people killed someone they loved as well? I wanted to kneel, apologize, and ask for their forgiveness, for they were innocents trapped and hurt for what had not been their doing.

Mal planted a hand on my shoulder dragging me out of my thoughts, he squeezed once and let go, signalling that he knew what spiralled my mind, probably his as well.

We reached a pair of massive black doors guarded by two soldiers who motioned to them, but they flew right open before they had a chance. The dark-haired princess came out, looking dead ahead, her eyes unwavering no more the shining amber I once saw. Her hair flew around like raven wings, almost reflecting the ire readable on her face. She went past us as if we were not there, marching down the corridor, her hands in fists so tight her leather gloves had discoloured grey at her knuckles.

“Snowlin Krigborn, I demand you here at once, it’s an order. No one turns their back when I speak,” a shout sounded from inside the chambers, so loud I could have sworn the doors shook.

She scoffed and then darkly laughed loud enough to make crows fly away. “I am sure dear Moreen does all the time, so I suppose you will live to grace my miserable life another day, Silas Krigborn,” the princess shouted back in a snide tone before turning out of the corridor, out of sight.

Silas…she spoke to him like that?

Amusement shadows filled the corridor, the Isjordian soldiers along with Mal chuckled and coughed under their breaths, shaking their heads.

They finally cleared their throats. “You will find yourself plenty entertained by the father and daughter,” one of the soldiers whispered, letting us past.