All of a sudden, I can’t help but question everything I’ve ever learned about the Frost King. All my years, I’ve been told that his immortality was a gift from Neri. Not a curse by Asha.
He was violated. His life stolen.
“Why iron fetters?”I sign.
“Because iron stifles godly power. When placed on the extremities—the neck, the wrists, the ankles—it binds. It can even burn the skin and seep into a god’s veins, rendering them as useless as any human.” He cocks his brow again. “Colden escaped Asha’s clutches, gathered his fellow warriors, and returned to the North where, in his rage, he began building a village. A place where he might seal himself off from the world.”
“Winterhold.”
“The very same. Colden and his men worked for months in the cold, right under Neri’s vengeful eyes. The God of the North was jealous of Colden, though he made no sign of it until later. A few years passed. In that short time, Colden considered death, but his friends challenged him against taking his own life.”
Confused yet again, I shake my head and sign,“I thought he was immortal.”
After a lick of his fingertips, Alexus snatches the mug from beside the fire and sets it on the stones to cool. “Immortality is a curious thing. One can live forever until someone manages to kill them. Magick can certainly compete with death, but nothing is eternal. Not even a life given by a goddess. And though Colden loathed his circumstance, little more is as unbearable than the thought of losing a life you once loved, especially by your own hand.”
I press my hand to my chest, my heart aching at the impossible decision that must’ve faced Colden every day of his long life. Much as I have hated even the thought of him, I can pity that.
“What happened to Asha, then?”I sign.
“The Land Wars ended,” Alexus replies. “For a time, anyway. The gods tried to force Asha to remove Colden Moeshka’s curse, but sherefused. Her punishment, therefore, for bedding a mortal and granting him a godly gift, was that she would never—no matter what magick she attempted—be able to make him love her.”
“And she was furious.”
“Very. But what could she do?”
Alexus rescues the stone holding the roasting berries. He sets the flat rock on the ground and lifts my feet, turning me so that my legs are tucked between his, our knees bent, his encasing mine. He takes up the curved knife and begins slicing our fruit.
“A few more years passed,” he goes on, “then one day, the recently crowned queen, Fia Drumera, sent men to the vale to find Colden and give him a message. She wanted to make amends for her goddess’s wrongdoings and celebrate Colden once again for the sacrifice cast upon his people. It was essential to maintain peace with a man quickly becoming something of a leader in the North.
The queen’s letter swore Asha would not be there; the other gods would not allow it. Colden refused to go, but…” He pauses as something akin to regret flashes across his face, so fast I almost miss it. “In the years since he’d been in the desert,” he says, “he’d made a new friend. Someone unlike all his other acquaintances. Someone who hadn’t fought alongside him during the war.”
With the steadiest of hands, Alexus balances a piece of warm, blistered fruit on the flat of the knife and lifts it to my mouth. I lean forward, and with my teeth, carefully accept.
“Who was the friend?”
“A young man from the valley. They met while the man was hunting in Frostwater Wood, too close to Winterhold for comfort. That friend told Colden he should go to the celebration, to honor his fallen men if nothing else. The gods had bound Asha. She was no longer a threat, or so it had been promised. Colden asked the friend to accompany him, and the man agreed, because he’d never been that far south, and it had always been a faraway dream. So they set out.”
He reaches for the metal cup and offers it. I accept and take a sip, letting the tin’s warmth heat my hands.
“The Summerlands are desert lands, marked by oases. Colden showed his new friend such beauty, the likes of which his eyes had neverseen.” A hint of a smile curves his lips as he takes a bite of fruit. “The people were talented and kind, the food so sweet and spicy, the water clear and crisp. Then Colden and his friend reached the great wall surrounding the citadel. It was impressive, but the gates—made of gold and ornamented with more jewels than the desert has grains of sand—had to have been forged by the gods. Inside, mud huts were freestanding, though many were built into cliffs and under rocky overhangs, in deep caves, and even in the side of Mount Ulra. For three days, the people of the Summerlands came together for festivities. There was music and laughter, wine and dance.” He looks at me sidelong. “And Fia.”
My eyes widen. Tales of the gods and the City of Ruin are fascinating enough, but to learn truths about the Frost King and the Fire Queen has me spellbound. I’m just as entranced as I used to be when my father told me stories as a child.
Alexus returns to slicing our steaming food. “The moment Colden saw Fia, he became moonstruck all over again—a foolish notion for a man who might outlive everyone he would ever know. But Fia felt the same. The two were inseparable the first couple of days of the celebration, and on that third night, Fia danced with Colden until the poor man could barely see beyond the stars in his eyes. He’d found joy again, and he wanted to cling to it. With the rest of the world distracted, Fia led Colden to her dwelling.”
“For what?”I sign.Instantly, I regret the words, my fingers recoiling.
Alexus grins, his dimple showing. “What do you think? She wanted him.” He looks at me pointedly. “You know how desire can be. Completely consuming.”
My face burns as unbidden images and thoughts cross my mind, images and thoughts that Alexus is undoubtedly watching play across my eyes.
“The story would’ve been sad regardless,” he continues, “because Colden was in love with Fia, and he bore a curse only Asha could break. And Queen Drumera, well, the new queen was betraying Asha with the man the goddess still desired, a man despised by every god for his immortality. Colden knew this was a dangerous game, yet he couldn’t leave Fia’s arms. And that was their doom.”
His dark hair falls across his face as he spears another sliver of moonberry fruit and slips it carefully into my mouth.
“On that third night,” he says, “Asha betrayed Queen Drumera’s request and arrived for the celebration only to find Colden missing, as was Fia. When Asha found them together, Mount Ulra and every surrounding dwelling trembled. Colden went to her, an attempt to calm her anger, but in her fury and jealousy, Asha cast him away, forbidding him to set foot inside the City of Ruin ever again lest he crumble to dust. He didn’t even have time to kiss Fia goodbye, let alone tell her what Asha had done. Little did they know that Neri loomed near, observing his old lover consumed with the likes of a mere man, and one of his own soldiers at that. Later, Neri approached Asha with another offer.”
With his knife, Alexus points at me and narrows his eyes in a way that makes it clear he’s absorbed in his storytelling.
