He paused, gathering his thoughts.This was territory he'd spent years exploring, first out of academic curiosity, later with growing urgency as threats mounted against Frostforge.What had begun as historical research had become something far more vital—perhaps the key to their survival.
"The true Founders' Price," he continued, "was the willing sacrifice of three magical practitioners—one from each tradition.They gave their lives to channel a fusion magic more powerful than anything we've achieved since.Through this sacrifice, they created the seal that bound the Deep Ones to the abyss."
"And you believe this information is accurate?"Marr asked, skepticism edging his words.
"I do," Kaine affirmed."The technique was lost to time—deliberately, perhaps, to prevent others from attempting it without understanding the full cost.As generations passed, other interpretations took root.The idea of sacrifice remained, but its nature was twisted, corrupted into something dark."
"That aligns with what I was told during my own training," Wolfe said, her voice softening with memory."There were tales of an instructor in the previous generation who killed a student in an attempt to strengthen the academy's defenses during a particularly brutal Warden attack."
Kaine nodded grimly."It didn't work because that's not the true Founders' Price.The magic requires willing sacrifice—three becoming one.Instructor Maven made the same mistake with Thalia years ago."
The memory sent a cold fury through him—Maven's betrayal, how she’d lashed out with an ice-steel sword, denigrating the value of Thalia’s blood even while attempting to spill it within the ritual circle.If they hadn't stopped her…
"And how does Greenspire intend to enact this true Founders' Price?"Virek asked, leaning forward, his scarred hands splayed against the table's surface."Does she have access to practitioners from all three traditions?Has she recovered the lost techniques?"
The question struck at the heart of Kaine's unease.What exactly was Thalia planning?Since her awakening from the coma, she had been distant, focused on training with the old root-singer, spending hours on the Crystalline Plateau with Roran at her side.When he caught glimpses of her, she seemed simultaneously more vibrant and more ethereal, as though part of her remained in the realm of visions she had witnessed while unconscious.
"I don't know the details of her plan," Kaine admitted, the words bitter on his tongue.There had been a time when he and Thalia shared everything—every discovery, every theory.That openness had frayed in recent months, strained by unspoken feelings and competing loyalties."You would need to ask her directly."
He straightened, refocusing on what he could control."In the meantime, Jorik and I are proposing immediate training in hybrid magic techniques for every fighter at Frostforge.We need to arm as many as possible with these methods before the Deep One reaches our waters."
"How quickly can these techniques be taught?"Marr asked, practical as always.
"The basics?"Jorik considered."Days, perhaps.Enough to make a difference in battle, at least.The more advanced applications take longer to master."
"Days may be all we have," Solberg observed quietly.
Wolfe nodded, decision made."Permission granted.We'll post the announcement immediately.Training begins at dawn tomorrow."She fixed Kaine with a penetrating look."And I will speak with Greenspire about this...other matter."
The meeting concluded with a flurry of logistical details—training grounds to be allocated, schedules to be arranged, fighters to be divided into groups based on their magical affinities.Throughout it all, Kaine felt a growing unease.Something in Wolfe's tone when she mentioned speaking to Thalia suggested she knew more than she was revealing.Or perhaps suspected more.
As they exited the chamber, Jorik fell into step beside him, their shoulders nearly brushing in the narrow corridor.For a moment, Kaine was struck by how similar their postures had become despite years apart—both leaning slightly forward, as though perpetually walking into a strong wind.
"You're worried," Jorik observed, his voice low enough that only Kaine could hear.
"Is it possible to teach these techniques in time?"Kaine asked, deflecting from his deeper concerns."Most people here have spent their entire lives practicing one form of magic, viewing other traditions with suspicion or outright hostility."
Jorik's mouth twisted into a wry smile."You mean, can we convince proud Northerners to learn from Isle Wardens?Can we persuade cryomancers that storm magic isn't just chaotic destruction?Can we overcome centuries of prejudice in a matter of days?"
"Something like that," Kaine agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting despite everything.
Jorik shrugged, the gesture casual but his eyes serious."My group learned because the alternative was death.Nothing focuses the mind like survival."His gaze swept across the corridor where refugees huddled against walls, their faces bearing the hollow look of those who had seen their homes consumed by darkness."These people understand that now.They've seen what's coming."
"I hope you're right," Kaine said as they reached the junction where their paths would diverge—Jorik to gather his people for the coming training, Kaine to organize the academy's fighters.
"I have to be," Jorik replied simply."We have no other choice."
As his brother walked away, Kaine stood motionless in the corridor, the weight of their situation pressing down upon him like the mountain of stone above Frostforge's halls.No other choice.The words echoed in his mind, raising questions he had been avoiding since Thalia's awakening.
What choice was she making now, alone with her ancient knowledge and newfound power?And what price would she pay to save them all?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thalia's knuckles hovered inches from Brynn's door, hesitating in the dim corridor light.The weight of what she'd come to ask pressed against her chest like a physical burden—heavier than the exhaustion that had clung to her since awakening from her coma, more insistent than the root-singer knowledge that whispered at the edges of her consciousness.
Since her training with Tamsin had begun, sensing currents had become second nature, to the point that she felt herself doing it constantly; it no longer required the intense focus it once had.Her focus was reserved for stronger acts of magic, and the currents had become her constant periphery, like a second sight.
Beside her, Roran stood silent, his wild curls framing a face etched with the same grim purpose she felt in her own bones.They were about to ask another person to die with them.
