"Are you certain this is our best option?"Roran murmured, his voice barely audible above the distant echoes of activity that permeated Frostforge's halls.
Thalia nodded, her throat too dry for immediate speech.Of all the cryomancers at the academy, none possessed Brynn's raw talent or technical precision.And of all those skilled enough to attempt what they needed, Brynn alone might be desperate or daring enough to agree.
"She has no reason to say yes," Thalia whispered back, finding her voice at last."But we have to try."
Their relationship had always been complicated—competitors first, reluctant comrades later, never quite friends.From that first day at Selection, Brynn Firstborn had made it clear that she viewed Thalia as an obstacle to overcome, a measuring stick against which to prove her superiority.Yet beneath the rivalry, Thalia had glimpsed something else in rare unguarded moments—a shared determination, a refusal to surrender no matter the odds.
Now, that quality might mean the difference between salvation and annihilation.
Thalia rapped her knuckles against the weathered wood, the sound sharp and definitive in the hushed corridor.
"Enter," came the immediate response, Brynn's voice carrying its distinctive crisp authority.
Thalia pushed the door open, stepping into the small quarters with Roran close behind.Unlike the sparse cell-like rooms assigned to most recruits, Brynn's space reflected her aristocratic Southern heritage—a woven rug of deep burgundy covered the stone floor, and a small collection of brass figurines lined the narrow shelf above her bed.The room smelled faintly of polishing oil and the distinctive metallic tang that clung to those who worked with enchanted weapons.
Brynn herself sat cross-legged on her bed, a whetstone in one hand and a blade in the other.Not just any blade, Thalia noted with a spark of professional interest.The weapon gleamed with the distinctive blue-silver sheen of ice-glacenite, its edge licked occasionally by tiny arcs of contained lightning—a hybrid weapon of impressive craftsmanship.A matching blade lay beside her, forming a paired set that echoed the twin daggers Brynn had always favored during their training days.
"Greenspire.Bright."Brynn acknowledged them without looking up, her hands continuing their rhythmic motion across the blade's edge."To what do I owe the pleasure?"The question held no warmth, merely efficient curiosity.
Thalia studied her former rival—noting the shadows beneath Brynn's eyes that matched her own, the slight hollowness to her cheeks that spoke of missed meals and sleepless nights, the dull tone of her normally rich brown skin.The Deep Tide's advance had taken its toll on everyone within Frostforge's walls.
"We need to talk," Thalia said, striving to keep her voice steady.
"About what?I'm due at the training grounds in twenty minutes."Brynn tested her blade's edge with her thumb, nodding with satisfaction before finally raising her gaze to meet theirs.Something in their expressions made her pause, her hands stilling."What's happened?"
"Nothing yet," Roran said, stepping forward."But we may need more from you than the standard participation in hybrid magic training."
Brynn's eyebrows rose slightly."More?What exactly are you asking for, Bright?"
Roran shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking beneath him."What are you prepared to give for Frostforge, Brynn?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with implications.Thalia watched as Brynn's expression shifted from confusion to understanding, then hardened into something bitter and sharp-edged.She set her blade aside with deliberate care, a humorless laugh escaping her lips.
"For Frostforge?"Brynn's mouth twisted."I wouldn't give a spoonful of my stew for Frostforge."
Thalia and Roran exchanged a worried glance.This was the reaction they'd feared.
"Let me be clear," Brynn continued, rising to her feet with fluid grace."I've been exceptional my entire time here.Head and shoulders above my peers.The best fighter in our year.The best cryomancer Frostforge has seen in a generation, according to Virek himself—though he'd never say it where anyone could hear.Not about asun-rotter." She paced now, energy radiating from her slender frame."I'm a damn good smith, too.And what has the Northern Reaches given me for it?Condescension and denial."
The bitterness in her voice wasn't new, but its intensity had grown since their days as students.Thalia remembered how Brynn had been passed over for the officer's post her top ranking should have earned her, how Northern commanders had consistently placed less qualified Northerners in positions above her.
"When I graduated top of our class, they assigned me to a remote outpost with a commanding officer who could barely form ice without shattering it," Brynn continued, her hands balled into fists."Meanwhile, Einar Frostborne—who barely passed his finals—was given command of a squadron in the primary defense line."Her eyes flashed."So no, I won't give anything for Frostforge.This institution has never given me what I've earned."
"We're not asking you to defend Frostforge," Thalia broke in, her voice cutting through Brynn's tirade."Not as the institution stands."
Brynn paused, her head tilting slightly to one side."What, then?"
Thalia stepped forward, closing the distance between them."We're asking you to help defend the people within these walls.The refugees who've lost everything.The children who never asked to be part of any war."She gestured toward the window, where the distant sounds of training echoed from the courtyards below."Our old classmates.The healers working themselves to exhaustion.The smiths forging weapons until their hands blister."
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of root-singer currents beneath her feet, sensing the steady pulse of ancient energies that had flowed through Frostforge's foundations long before any of them were born.
"This isn't about Frostforge," she continued."It's about the Southern Kingdoms and the Northern Reaches alike.It's about the archipelago.It's about humanity itself standing against extinction."Her voice softened."That's what we're asking you to defend."
Something shifted in Brynn's expression—a barely perceptible softening around the eyes, a slight easing of the tension in her shoulders.
“And,” Thalia added, squaring her shoulders like a card player laying down a flawless hand, “you told me to inform you next time I was intending to do something foolish to save this miserable old ruin.”
Brynn was silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable.Thalia held her breath, watching her, waiting for the frost to thaw.
