Chapter 18 — Ice
Snowmen are the ultimate mirror with which humankind gazes back upon itself. As their creators, humans position themselves as gods to the lowly men and women of snow, and even fashion their bodies in humankind’s own perfect image. But this gift of carrot-nosed life is not given in good faith, oh no. For snowkind will never be able to achieve the perfect, warm-blooded, forms of their creators. Nor will the snowmen be able to experience a full life—chained as their existence is to the winter of their birth—whereas their creators will live to see seasons of every description.
Is this not the same betrayal that humans received from the gods that made them? Are the snow people the product of humankind’s own existential rage? Is it an attempt for the species to feel powerful? Perhaps they simply wish to give others the same cursed gift of life that they feel the gods had given them. Any empathetic observer must agree that it is a deeply tragic state of affairs, no matter the exact motives behind the madness.
But what is a conscientious bystander to do? The answer is clear: One must give to these frozen wretches that which their creators never would. You must give them a taste of summer, and of heat. And not the false heat of a winter sun, but true fire. Bath them in flames, broaden their horizons, and expand their minds—with explosives.
“... and that is why blowing up snowmen is virtuous.” Rína concluded.
“Pfffffffh,” Nóra laughed, “And how exactly does us making them in the first place factor into that?”
“Eh, I never said we were perfect.” Rína said as she plopped a snow-head onto a snow-torso.
“I guess this beats watching them slowly melt,” Alexis said, rolling together another sphere of snow-legs, “Days old, half melted snowmen always look depressing.”
“Exactly.” Rína emphasized, “See, Alexis gets it.”
Deirdre frowned, “So long as you know what you’re doing… I still can’t believe you’ve been carrying all that around with you this whole time,” she shuddered, motioning to the satchel slung over Rína’s shoulder, “Are you absolutely sure that’s safe?”
Rína absently looked down at her satchel—it was the culmination of a personal project she had started weeks ago. At first Yvette had taken on a purely advisory role, letting Rína stumble through trial and error, answering any of her questions, and only giving hints when she had hit dead ends. But once Rína was about to start producing non-trivial amounts of the final product, Yvette stepped in and made strict demands on the tolerances and safety mechanisms.
Rína’s first design for a delivery method utterly failed to meet the bar Yvette had set. And a discussion of how exactly it would have killed Rína naturally followed; which eventually turned into a lesson on mechanical engineering. More designs came and went until at last one was met with approval, and even then Yvette insisted on manufacturing the physical parts, and even the satchel, herself. As for the actual chemical components? That was all Rína, and she was quite proud of what she’d accomplished.
“Believe me, if these weren’t safe to handle, then my aunt wouldn’t have let me out the door with them,” Rína said.
“Uh, huh,” Deirdre said, using a gloved finger to carve a smiley-face into her finished snowman, “Then why did you insist on this spot that happens to be so far from Nameless and downwind of it?”
It was still the night of the solstice and the Daefic Star could be seen just above roofs of the village. She had brought the four of them out on an invitation of pyrotechnics that Nóra heartily accepted and who managed to drag the other two along with her.
And Deirdre was correct: the exact location wasn’t a coincidence—the last thing Rína wanted was some freak accident that destroyed a house. So she had chosen this particular spot, with nothing around but meter thick snow. True, the treeline of the small forest Nameless was built next to was relatively close by, but living trees, covered in ice and snow would be fine, even in the worst case.
“You know, Deedee, I’m starting to think you might not be in the holiday spirit,” jeered Nóra, “And here I was, thinking that you were, after I saw you sneaking that pastry for your first plate.” she finished with a wicked grin.
“I—Er—Hm—” Dierdre floundered, “You didn’t see anything! Also, how could this even be in the holiday spirit?”
“I mean, my aunt said that some places around the world celebrate the new year with a kind of light show,” Rína shrugged, “This won’t be exactly the same, but I figure it’s close enough.”
Alexis shrugged, “I wouldn’t object if this kind of thing became a tradition around here. And it looks like your light show is going to have a few more audience members than you expected.” he said, motioning to the treeline.
The sky was clear and a sliver of moonlight gave little light to see by, but against the snow, Rína could make out a dozen figures trudging their way out of the forest, towards them and the rest of the village.
Rína furrowed her brow, “I didn’t think anyone else would be out here tonight.”
More figures emerged, the dozen swelling to twenty.
“Yeah, that’s weird. The whole village should still be at the square,” Deirdre said.
The twenty grew to fifty and the figures at the front markedly increased their pace.
“Uh,” Alexis hesitated, “I think we should ru—”
The flat of a blade pressed against Rína’s throat.
Muffled curses and other sounds of alarm rose from the four of them. Rína instinctively jerked back, only for the unseen blade to follow and press harder against her skin—a prick of pain telling her that it had drawn its first drops of blood.
Rína hadn’t heard or seen anything—suddenly the blade was just there. And though she couldn’t see it, the feel of freezing cold steel was unmistakable.
Rína hazarded a twist of her neck to see Deirdre with a glinting blade pressed to her throat as well. And while Alexis and Nóra were behind Rína, out of her line of sight, Rína could only assume they were in a similar state. Fear and frozen panic were plain on Deirdre’s face as she and the four of them together were struck dumb.
Rína’s eyes lowered to the blade resting just beneath the girl’s chin. It was like a dagger’s but without a hilt, and instead of a tang, the opposite end was just more blade that narrowed to a point, mirroring the other half. But strangest of all, the glinting blade was, well, glinting. In the low moonlight it took Rína a moment to realize that it wasn’t made of steel, but ice.
“Happy solstice!” came a sarcastic voice, “Grab them, and bring them with us.” the voice ordered.
Rína carefully turned her head back to see the closing in line of figures. They all wore traveler’s cloaks, with rough clothing beneath, and generally looked the parts of woodsmen. However protruding from the cloaks Rína could see, were the hilts of numerous weapons.
And most prominent among their number was a man with graying, almost white hair that walked in the center of the line of men. He was neither dressed nor armed any differently than his compatriots, save for one detail: orbiting above his head were several identical blades of ice. And with their tips pointed upward, they affected the appearance of a crown of ice on the man’s brow.
Rína’s heart started pounding in her ears as her vision began to tunnel.
A mage. A genuine mage, leading a band of outlaws to do… something she’d rather not like to think about, to herself and the entire village behind her.
Her blood turned cold as it dribbled down her neck and—
No, that wasn’t her blood. Water from the melting blade of ice dribbled down her neck as four men responding to the mage’s order ran ahead of the line.
Rína’s imminent capture cleared the fog of panic in her mind, and brought two thoughts into relief.
Rína turned her head to see Deirdre still frozen in panic, “When the blades drop, we’re going to run… and get my aunt. Ready?” she whispered, hoping Alexis and Nóra could also hear her.
Nóra’s shaken voice came in reply, “Rína, what the hells are you talking about?”
The four men were nearly upon them, but the still approaching main line was just nearly out of her range. Just a little closer…
“RUN!” Rína yelled as she flared her aura in the direction of the attackers.
The blades of ice at their throats fell as Rína could feel her aura slice through four distinct streams of liquid aether and with more ease than she had ever had pushing through Yvette’s aura targets. At the same time, the full weight of her aura slammed into a dozen souls. Receiving far more than a poke, the four closest men, and several more behind them, immediately collapsed and convulsed as the contents of their stomachs were ejected.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Rína didn’t stay to watch as she grabbed Deirdre’s arm and ran for the village. Nóra and Alexis needed no encouragement and immediately followed suit.
“KEEP GOING” Rína ordered as she pulled Deirdre ahead of her, with Rína now behind the other three. She was proud of her aura control, but wasn’t about to risk accidentally hitting a friend as she kept her aura flared behind her. The outskirts of the village—that didn’t even have a wall—was still some distance away, but with luck they—
The snow just ahead of her feet, not being covered by her aura, lurched onto her snowshoes, immediately sending her tumbling to the ground.
Rína clambered to her feet only to see that her friends had stopped running—their way barred by a phalanx of ice blades hanging in the air before them. Behind her she saw the downed men being tended to by their colleagues as the mage moved to the fore and gave her a contemplative look.
“Well this complicates things…” the mage muttered before addressing Rina, “My apologies, but it would seem there’s been a misunderstanding.”
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Another mage in the mix might do more than just ‘complicate’ things, but thankfully Victor still ultimately had the element of surprise. If he handled the situation carefully, this might just be a minor footnote on an otherwise idyllic winter holiday.
The auburn haired young woman with the satchel was definitely the mage—or apprentice mage, he presumed, as she couldn’t be older than her early twenties. But a single apprentice wasn’t what had him worried. No, because where there was an apprentice, there was a master. And he wasn’t looking forward to walking into the village square and getting his men and himself killed by a fulgormancer or what have you that was hiding amongst the crowd.
“‘Misunderstanding’ my ass,” cursed the apprentice as she got to her feet.
Victor tsked as he whispered to his second in command, “Slight change of plans: you’ll lead the men, but for the square, keep everyone out of sight and have the archers ready and in position to put an arrow through the eye of anyone that looks like a mage.”
“I’ll see to it,” his second nodded, “but what about you?”
“I’ll be along in just a minute to lead the attack,” Victor said, “just be sure to engage early if we get spotted.”
Victor returned his attention to the apprentice, “Oh, you wound me,” he said with mirth, “Now I know what this must look like, but we’re all just a merry band of weary travelers who—”
The apprentice took a step towards the other three villagers. It was inconvenient, but with his spell aether going the long way around the woman’s aura, Victor sent the hovering blades to press back against the three villagers’ throats.
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Rína froze where she stood as adrenaline flooded her veins.
“Let th—” she almost said before her frantic eyes read the situation, “Who are you and what do you want?”
“Ah, someone quick on the uptake—that’s always nice to see. You may call me Victor,” the mage said with a cheery smile and a bow, “What do I want? Well right now, I want nothing more than to have a relaxing night by a roaring fire. And I hardly think I’m alone in that.”
Chuckles rose up from the men around him.
“In fact, why don’t we all take a stroll over to the Star, right now? What do you say?” the mage asked the congregation, motioning to a man beside him.
The brigands restarted the forward march in haste, now giving Rína a wide berth as they brought their still incapacitated colleagues with them. But the mage himself stood stalk still, looking Rína dead in the eye.
“Look,” Alexis began, “we don’t—”
Alexis muffled a cry of pain as the mage shook his finger in admonishment, “Uh-uh. Silence from the audience, please. Also, I believe the young lady has yet to introduce herself.”
“Rína…” she said, returning the stare and waiting for the mage to get to his point. As for Deirdre, Nóra, and Alexis, the distance they had gained on Rína when she tumbled now put them outside her aura’s roughly ten meter range. And despite her attempts to momentarily push that range further, she couldn’t seem to hit the streams of aether the mage was casting around her—at least from where she stood.
And as the sound of his men’s shuffling footsteps grew distant, Victor finally began, “I must say that I’m surprised to see a fellow mage this far from proper civilization. I feel like I’m a needle in a haystack that has somehow run into another pair of needles. Now the question is: how did you and your master find yourselves in this nothing of a town?”
“Oh, we’re just tourists, seeing the local sights.” Rína said.
“Naturally, naturally,” the older mage nodded, “Though that can’t have always been the case of course. I’m sure your master must have received their sterling education from one collegium or another.”
Rína cursed internally. He was fishing for information and she’d gone and confirmed that her master—well, her ‘Yvette’—was around. Rína narrowed eyes, “What do you want?”
“To have my curiosity sated, honest,” the mage raised his hand as if to give an oath, “I was just wondering where your master got their education—just on the off chance we’re fellow alumni.”
“She’s actually self taught, if you can believe it,” Rína tried.
“Oh, well as it so happens: no, I can’t believe it.” Victor sighed, “Look, I’m sure we’ll become fast friends, so I’ll let you in on a little secret about myself: I have a very finite amount of patience,” he said, the faux jovialness slipping from his voice, “So how about you start telling me about your master.”
Before Rína, just at the edge of her aura, two handfuls worth of snow liberated themselves from the bonds of gravity and the snow around them. They rose to chest height, and in the span of a few heartbeats compressed into identical blades of ice, pointed straight at her. Slowly, Rína turned her chest, moving her satchel out of the mage’s line of sight, and slipped her hand inside.
“Wait, Rína, your aunt’s a—” Nóra began.
“What. Did. I…” the mage emphasized before admonishing himself, “My, the years must be getting to me. You three: tell me about your friend’s master—her aunt, you said?—or you will find me far less amicable.”
Rína heard three muffled cries of pain punctuating the demand.
“I swear we didn’t even know she was a mage,” Nóra cried, “Her aunt’s just a traveling healer!”
“Then how about something more simple: what does she look like?”
“Please,” Deirdre pleaded, “you don’t have to—”
“Short old woman,” Alexis blurted out, “with a scar going from her forehead to her ear.”
“See? How hard was that?” Victor clapped his hands in applause, “Bravo, my boy. Now how about for an encore you tell me what kind of mage she was, or perhaps if you’ve ever seen her do anything you couldn’t quite explain?”
“I—I really don’t know,” Alexis stammered.
“Oh.” Victor said, looking disappointed, “And just like that you’ve outlived your usefulness. And seeing as three hostages is just excessive—”
“I’ll tell you everything!” Rína yelled in a panic, “But only if you let them go.”
“Will you now?” the mage asked, mirth returning to his demeanor, “You wouldn’t go and lie to your newest friend though, would you?”
Fear for herself and the others was blaring in her mind, but in a moment of clarity Rína smirked and said, “There wouldn’t be a point. She’ll break you in half no matter how much you know about her.”
“That remains to be seen,” the mage then seemed to give a genuine smile, “I suppose it’s only natural for an apprentice to see their master as a god in the flesh… Very well. But trust that if you lie to me,” the mage’s voice turned deathly cold, “I will find these three and make sure they die real slow. Are we clear?”
Rína gulped, “Clear.”
“Good… And you three: my men will have surrounded the square by now. If you so much as think of approaching to ruin our little surprise, they’ll cut you down before you get anywhere close,” Victor warned, “Now run along, and happy solstice.” He concluded with a friendly wave.
Rína turned to see the blades of ice drop from the three’s throats. Fear and uncertainty were still plain on their faces, but Rína tried—and failed—to give them a reassuring nod, then mouthed the word ‘aunt’ as clearly as she could.
“Be careful,” Deirdre said shakily, almost in a whisper, as she, her sister, and brother-in-law fled.
Rína watched as the three disappeared into the night, slowly being lost amidst the silhouette of the village. Nameless was relatively close, but under the circumstances it may as well have been kilometers away. The direct path was over open ground, so when it came time for her own escape, she would need to somehow break line of sight at the bare minimum. However, the only cover was the forest that she would have to skirt around the mage to get to.
Inside her satchel, Rína struggled awkwardly to undo a safety latch one-handed.
The mage waited a minute in silence before finally saying, “Now, what kind of mage is your master?”
Rína considered for a moment before saying with a smile, “She’s the Scourge Queen. And she actually looks like whatever she wants to.”
“Oh of course. And naturally that would make you the Scourge Princess. Silly me, I would have guessed your master was a lich, or something unspeakable from the oceans. Or no, better yet: a dragon that had come down from its island to teach you specifically." The last of the mage’s good humor drained from his face as he raised more blades from the snow surrounding Rína’s aura, “Last chance.”
By design, the final arming levers were damn near impossible to flip while everything was still packed in their individual holsters inside the satchel, and doing so one handed and blind made it just that much harder.
“Fine… fine.” Rína relented, “Pyromancer. We’re pyromancers.”
“Prove it.” the mage practically snapped.
“I… I don’t have any spell structures yet.” Rína tried.
“Bullshit. Any apprentice your age would have at least one—so long as they weren’t a complete idiot.”
“Hey fuck off, I only started a few months ago.” Rína said with genuine anger.
The mage raised an eyebrow, giving her a considering look, “You’re really telling the truth, aren’t you? And here I went through all the trouble of getting my men away from here so they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire…”
“Crossfire?” Rína’s eyes widened, “Look, there’s no need for that. Hells, why don’t you just take me as a hostage?”
“A hostage?” the mage tittered, some of his good nature returning, “What, just you can turn my men’s minds to pudding the second I turn my back? Oh, no. Here’s a lesson for you: even if they’re just an apprentice, never try to take a mage alive. All you’ll be doing is—”
A soft click resounded from the satchel.
Rína forced her aura beyond its normal range.
Its outer edge wavered wildly, with globules of aura constantly breaking off to fall into the Deep Astral. Nevertheless, her unstable aura vaporized the spells keeping the blades around her aloft.
Rína’s arm whipped out of her satchel, taking from it one of several palm-sized spheres of wood.
She made a desperate throw, averted her eyes, and ran for the forest.