After Emrum’s tale, we continued our journey silently. I was lost in my thoughts, just like the others were.

It was intriguing to hear this world’s history, especially one regarding my new race, even if it was more than likely that I won’t meet with another one of my kind. Still, I guess it wasn’t entirely impossible.

There were multiple lessons hidden inside this tale, some I could take to heart while others I could not.

One thing was crucial. My immortal blood was a precious commodity in this world. Based on the tale I just heard, I very much suspected that if I ever run into other elves, they will be inclined to tie me up and carry me back to their capitals on the basis of my safety.

I didn’t like that thought. I had spent enough time tied to a bed in my previous life. I do not intend to spend this one in a golden cage.

Thanks to my magic, I was not defenceless, still the amount of my mana was quite frustrating. I was practically a genuine glass cannon. It was funny enough to play such roles in video games, but reality seemed to be less exciting in this regard. More like an anxious streak of fear and worry.

As a result, I half-mindedly looked through my spell list in my mind in search of a spell that could potentially alleviate some of my worries.

My mental eyes eventually concluded that aside from the light shield, I had no dedicated defensive spells. Yet… there was something that, with enough creativity, could potentially become one.

The name of the spell was Ice shaping. When I focused my mind on the spell, it called forth the briefest of description of the spell workings.

Channeling magic. After the finished incantation, it allows the wielder to grow and form ice. The ice won’t melt until the magic inside it remains to be connected to the spellcaster. It will feel warm to the caster’s touch while for others it will feel biting cold.

“This could be good…” — I whispered to myself, while thinking about potential ways to use this spell as a defensive measure.

Let’s see the incantation.

Winter of the coldest north, frozen rivers and blinding snow. Hear my woe! For those who do not fear, the coldest grasp of nature shall be the first to learn of its apathy.

I played over the incantation a few times in my mind, then decided to speak it silently, whispering the words while walking behind the cart.

“Winter of the coldest north, frozen rivers and blinding snow.” — I felt my breath becoming alarmingly cold as the words left my mouth. — “Hear my woe! For those who do not fear, the coldest grasp of nature shall be the first to learn of its apathy.” — As I finished the words, a prickling sense of coldness run over my entire body, causing me to shiver and gasp thanks to the uncomfortable surprise.

Damn it! This cave was cold enough as it is!

What surprised me most was the fact that even after the incantation finished, I didn’t feel my mana depleting as I was expecting. I thought about it. Was the incantation a failure? It never happened to me before, since the magic is ingrained into my mind.

I dismissed that thought. It didn’t feel like a failure. Then I realized. Of course, I had formed no ice yet. That must be the cause.

A burst of excitement filled me at the thought of playing around with a new spell. This was my favorite fantasy world activity yet.

I thought about how to use the spell. My eyes wandered to the tip of my staff, which I was currently using as a walking stick. A wild grin formed across my face as the thought solidified. I shall act on this instinct.

I envisioned a scythe blade forming on the upper end of my staff. To my fascination, I saw the blade manifesting out of thin air in a matter of seconds. It attached to the staff growing into a glistening ice blade. The sight in itself was overwhelming.

I simply couldn’t get enough of the sight.

Another excited gasp shook me out of my momentary trance. I turned towards the noise and noticed a pair of familiar dark green eyes boring down on me.

“Selora!” — The words were filled with mock hurt. — “You would cast spells behind my back, while refusing to do so earlier! How mean!” — The ginger headed girl stared at me then chuckled, leaving behind the act with a natural ease.

She walked up to me, staring at the polished icicle blade that formed on my staff.

“Wait… is that made out of ice!? She stated all of a sudden. Is it solid enough to actually use it in battle? Or would it break on contact?” — The girl wondered aloud, while proceeding to reach her hand with the intention of touching the blade. Clearly uncaring for the waves of coldness that were practically radiating off the ice shard.

I hastily intervened. Grasping her wrist with my left hand while pulling the weapon away with my right.

“Stop that! I am still testing this spell out. I am not sure what it is capable of.” — I lectured her with the intention to temper her overzealous behaviour.

She nodded at that excitedly. Without the smallest noticeable sign of remorse.

“Then test it. What are you waiting for? I can’t wait to see if it will break or not.” — I opened my mouth to retort, but closed it soon enough, realising that Camilla was right. I scratched the back of my head, looking for a potential target.

I noticed a large rock not far from the caravan and decided to walk over Camilla, shadowing me all the time.

As the first trial, I gently touched the blade to the rock surface, watching in shock as a thin layer of frost started to coat the rock growing out of the point of contact.

Camilla whistled right next to me, seeing as numerous small spiky icicles spread around in a circular manner. I could feel a gentle tug on my mana pool, but it was practically frivolous.

I lifted up my scythe with a thoughtful expression.

“Camilla, would you stand back a bit? I want to hit it for real now.” — The young woman smirked at my words, but followed suit and stood back a few meters.

I lifted my staff, or I guess my current scythe, over my head in a wide arc and delivered a strong downward cut on top of the rock. I felt a strong resistance at the other end of the strike. I was satisfied, as I could immediately tell from the feeling that my blade did not shatter on impact.

Just as that thought formed in my mind, I heard the sharp sound of something cracking and felt as the blade of my weapon slipped inward. My eyes grow wider as I stared animatedly as the rock slowly gave way to the frozen blade, which slid into the crackling and shattering stone.

The blade must have frozen the water inside the rock, which started to break it apart from the inside out.

I hastily pulled out the frozen blade, fearing that the rock might explode in a thousand deadly shards, remembering the last time I explored a new magic spell back inside the dwarven outpost.

As the powerful explosion of molted rock played in front of my mental eyes, I whispered another spell name with a frown.

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“Light shield.” — I stated fearfully, eyeing the rock until the familiar sight of a glittering transparent wall of light manifested in front of me and Camilla.

The girl stared at the rock, then stared at the light suddenly appearing in front of us.

Her lips moved like a fish on the shore, but no words seemed to leave her mouth. As if just remembering where we were, I suddenly turned around once again, grasping the shocked girl’s wrist and started to pull her along, following the caravan that naturally didn’t stop for our momentary antics.

I could see Emrum’s silhouette waiting for us at the side of the caravan. He must have thought that we went to take a piss or something. A thought that quickly turned into confusion when he saw Camilla’s shocked expression. Then he noticed the icicle blade attached to my staff and frowned even deeper.

It was at that time when Camilla decided to come back to the living with a burst of energy; she said.

“That… it cut, no shattered the damn rock! Am I dreaming? How could ice shatter rock!?” — I throw her a sidelong glance, which she promptly ignored, or genuinely didn’t notice, and turned to Emrum, who was not amused.

Grasping the bridge of his nose, the man said with a tired voice. — “Girl, how many times do I have to tell you to not waste your magic when you don’t know if you might yet need it!”

My previously content smirk quickly dispersed into nothingness as I sensed an incoming lecture from the frustrated dwarf. He did not sleep much in the last two days, and that clearly started to strain on his nerves.

“Uh… I well, this doesn’t really cost a lot of mana…” — I started explaining when I felt Camilla’s hand suddenly grab onto my own, which was still holding her wrist and with a nervous, no panicked jerk, she pulled me to the side with great force.

I was not prepared for her sudden antics and toppled over with little resistance, falling on top of the young woman. Doing my best to keep the sharp blade of my scythe away from accidentally injuring either one of us.

She pushed me into the ground, and I was about to complain when I heard the eerily familiar sound of arrows hitting against metal, rock, and wood.

There were sounds of cries of pain and surprise all over the cave. Followed by sounds of war-cries and rushing steps.

“AMBUSH!” — Emrum’s voice cut through the cacophony of noise as it traveled through the tunnel, soon followed by other similar sounds. Among them, one has confirmed my fears.

“DARK ELVES!” — Shouted one unknown dwarf. Confirming my initial thought, as the only race I encountered that used bows even in this suffocating darkness.

While I was lost in my thoughts laying on the ground, a familiar looking black arrow bounced off the hardened rock floor half a meter from my head, causing my stomach to flip on its own.

Before I could do anything else, I was grabbed by the back of the collar of my robes and harshly pulled under the nearest cart. Realising that the person pulling me was Camilla, I decided to not complain and followed her lead wordlessly.

Just realizing that the girl probably saved my life a few seconds ago… I mumbled a thanks towards her. — “Thanks…”

“You can thank me later if we survive by teaching me that ice spell of yours…” — She snapped back as we rolled under the cart as the chaos engulfed the tunnel. Sounds of battle cries and slashes of metal against metal filling the cave in a deadly symphony of voices.

I throw a conscious glance towards the goats, wondering why the animals didn’t run away with the carriage. Only to realize that the poor souls were already dead, downed by multiple arrows sticking out of their bloody hide.

I gulped solemnly. The initial shock of the new ambush slowly began to wear off, giving way under the waves of fresh adrenaline pumped into my bloodstream.

Camilla and I rolled under the cart while arrows continued to rain down around us, while the other side of the cart remained free from arrows. As I crawled out on the other side of the carriage hastily pulled to my knees by Camilla, we finally got a moment to organize our thoughts and get a hold on the situation.

It didn’t help much. There was utter chaos in the tunnel, people screaming and the noise was simple, deafening with the natural echoes of the environment.

Camilla looked genuinely horrified by the unfolding events. Glancing left and right with a nervous jerk of her head, seeing her panic for sure wasn’t a good sign for me.

I crawled to the edge of the carriage and sneaked a hesitant glance over it, tightly squeezing the shaft of my staff.

I saw two dwarfs motionlessly laying on the ground, next to the carriage, multiple arrows sticking out of their bodies. Further away, more dwarfs were engaged in a brutal melee with the familiar lean forms of dark elves. One thing was immediately obvious. This time, we were being outnumbered and ambushed to make it even worse.

A cold shiver went through my body as I saw another dwarf cut down by the swifts and agile blades of a dark elf. The cold blade finding its way into a weakness between the thick plate armor only for him to meet his end as he was showed in the side with a double handed axe of a nearby dwarf. The elf was practically thrown off his feet from the sheer strength of the impact, clutching its side in a blood-curdling scream of defiance. The dwarf’s victory was short-lived unfortunately, as he was immediately engaged by other dark elves slowly surrounding him.

I gulped drily. As the realisation hit me. I needed to do something or we are going to be cut down one by one.

I was trying to find a spell that I could chant in time, only to realize that my ice shape magic was still very much active. Seeing as the unfamiliar dwarf was about to be slain by a third elf sneaking up on him from his back, I fuelled my desire to defend him into a spell.

A giant spike of ice burst out of the floor behind the dwarf, just before the dark elf could strike him down. The icicle formed on the rock floor and stretched upwards in the blink of an eye, effortlessly gutting the attacker in multiple places.

I could see the disbelief and horror contorting his pale face that was becoming bluer and bluer by the seconds. Settling in the familiar features of rigor mortis as the icicle frozen over his body before he could effectively bleed out.

The nearby dark elves were similarly shocked by the gruesome death of one of their own. In their shock, one of them missed the incoming axe of the dwarf, which cut into its stomach, jolting the other out of his stupor with a painful scream as he toppled over.

The third elf was ready to face the dwarf, but he was not ready for the arrow that pierced his chest. As his hands tightened around the embedded arrow’s shaft in a vain attempt to pull it out. He looked up, searching for his attacker, just like I did. We both stared at the sight of Camilla, who was leaning over the cart with a short bow in her arms, its string still shaking from the recently released arrow.

“Nice shot!” — I couldn’t help but word my thoughts in a burst of euphoria. The very notion felt ridiculous as it momentarily made me forget about the deadly reality of the situation, like I was watching some sport game. Still, I was quickly reminded that this was not a game as fresh arrows rained down around me, and Camilla who hid behind the carriage.

One such arrow barely missed my face. I could feel the wind as it passed mere inches from me. Just as I could hear the swishing sound that sent cold shivers up my back.

I immediately followed Camilla’s example and hid behind the cart. My arms shaking from the adrenaline. My brain locked in a permanent cycle of deliberation between running or fighting.

I don’t want to die again… but where would I run in this place? There is nowhere to run on the deep roads. Even the dwarfs couldn’t survive here alone. Then I remembered Emrum… he was standing there with us when the attack started… yet I didn’t see him since then. I can’t leave him here, but what if he already died?

I shook my head while such thoughts continued to haunt me.

My heart was beating in my throat when a terrified scream reached my ear. I snapped out of my daydream, looking for the source of that worryingly familiar girlish voice.

Camilla was on the ground, her bow thrown across the floor as a tall elf with black leather armor stood over her. Blood-red eyes, two blades coated with fresh blood ready to strike her down as the woman desperately tried to crawl away from the deadly assailant.

The elf had a victorious grin on his face as his blade was already on its way to finish his prey.

I reached out with my arm with the intention of stopping the strike, but I was on the other end of the wagon. It was a futile act, if anything. Yet, to my surprise, mana was consumed as a result of my action.

Before I knew what happened, the elf started to yell in pain and surprise as his striking arm was covered in quickly spreading ice, making it rigid and halting it in its attack.

Camilla, realising the opportunity, quickly draw a knife from somewhere and plunged it into the howling man’s stomach.

In the meantime, I locked eyes with the elf.

“Witch!” — It growled in its vile tongue, which I understood, like any other. Yet seeing the raw hatred emanating from his red eyes made me freeze with fear. I saw as his lips curled into a vengeful smirk as he ignored his freezing arm and the knife in his gut as he decided to throw his other sword at me.

Camilla must have realized what the man intended, as she, with a surprising burst of force, kicked the man’s left leg, effectively dis-balancing him and causing the sword to embed itself into the side of the cart a few inches from my chest.

I jumped away from the bloody blade with fresh fright and a girlish scream of terror. Being the third time brushing with death in a few minutes was too much for my nerves.

Camilla pulled out her knife from the collapsing man’s guts and with a scream of her own, she pierced it into the still struggling man’s neck, who delivered a few heavy strikes into Camilla’s gut before finally drowning in his own blood.

I saw as Camilla too collapsed on the ground, clutching her bruised side with a pained expression. I winced at the sight of the girl, as she was partially covered by the downed man’s blood.

I crawled over to her side to check on her and maybe heal her, if it was necessary.

As I kneeled next to her, grabbing onto her hand in an instinctive attempt to comfort her, I saw her eyes grow wider and focus on me… no more like something standing behind me.

I turned around swiftly, catching the last glimpse of an armored fist.

Then there was darkness.