The room was dim. Generally it was unoccupied except for extremely important meetings. This happened to be one of those occasions. The axes of ice hanging from the ceiling, appeared far less majestic under the lack of light. On the long table in the middle of the room sat five people on each side. There was one man on the end with a bag covering his head.

”Remove it boy.”

The bag was ripped off, and the man underneath lurched forwards, attempting to take action. He only then noticed it was wrapped in chains, unable to inch anywhere. The beginnings of a spear began to formulate by the side of his exposed cheek. The chain tightened to a degree to which the man felt as though he was dying, causing the spear to melt away.

“It would be best not to try anything unbefitting.”

While trying to regain his breath, the subjugated man could just barely comprehend the voice he just heard. He couldn’t make out any of the faces before him, but he recognized that voice.

Man in Chains: “Council Member Freyja?”

He recalled the last time he was conscious. He had been taking a late night walk in the dorms of the Dancing Blade when he had met the Marauder brat Oden. They had been engaged in a very deep conversation about the artists of history before he had received a deep blow to his gut. The gears in his mind began to turn, as he attempted to piece the puzzle he had been given.

Chains, a Marauder acting on his own in the domain of the Dancing Blade, the faint axes on the ceiling, Freyja’s voice.

Enchained Man: “You’ll get no information out of me you filthy battle loving monkeys.”

One of the people closest to him leaned forward, causing his face to just barely become visible. That damn oaf Bjorn. He had always known that the simpleton was far more intelligent than he ever let on.

Bjorn: “We’ll be the ones to decide that.”

———

Sorn was gasping for breath as he was slumped against a wall of ice. He looked up at the sky until he could regain his full awareness before he looked straight ahead. There stood Oden, his arms encased with ice.

Oden: “Looks like we got your limit up to five minutes.”

They had been sparring relentlessly for the past few days. In between, they had been experimenting with different exercises, such as Sorn attempting to keep his wispy state going for as long as possible. He had practically lived in one of the multiple training grounds of the Marauders, only having seen Oden for the duration.

Oden: “Your power truly does depend on how effectively you use your ability. Without it you'd be beaten by a child. With it, even I would have trouble defeating you.”

Sorn let himself slide down the back of the wall he was leaning against, plopping into the snow.

Sorn: “Does this mean I’m ready?”

Oden: “You’d still be at a disadvantage considering that the tournament is created for people with a power you don’t have. Luckily, you’re in good hands considering the Spear Subclan by custom are lame and only hold fair one on ones, meaning Varian won’t have leeway to sabotage you.”

Sorn wasn’t sure as to how relieved he should feel by this.

Sorn: “What about the guy at the Council with the chains, um-”

Oden: “Cedric? You don’t need to worry about him.”

Oden’s tone made it clear he wasn’t elaborating. Sorn wondered just how much influence he had in regard to the happenings of the Ice Fortress.

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Oden: “We’re done with training, your fate will be decided during the Prophecy.”

As Oden turned to walk away, Sorn felt as though he was required to say something.

Sorn: “Oden. Um, thank you.”

Oden gave a rare, genuine grin.

Oden: Of course. I’ll be looking to see how you do in the tournament.

As Sorn left the Training Grounds, he marveled at how little wounds he had. The training had been brutal, but Oden made sure not to ever cause him serious injury. As he made his way to his room, he brushed Serene’s arm while walking past her. She looked so worried, she didn’t even comprehend him bouncing off her. He was going to just walk by after a quick ‘sorry’, but the uncharacteristic expression on her face caused him to take pause.

Sorn: “Is everything alright?”

Serene sighed, staring at the ceiling.

Serene: “Neither Oden nor my father ever tell me what’s really happening. I get just enough for them to believe I think I know what they’re doing. But I can tell things are moving far faster than they ever have before.”

Sorn was confused by this. Serene was smart, strong, and the future chief. Why would they be hiding things from her?

Sorn: “Is it common for them to act like this?”

Serene: “No, but that makes it more concerning. They say they believe in me, but when it comes down to it, I’ll always be my father’s little daughter and Oden’s little girl cousin. They may believe in me, but they won’t depend on me.”

Sorn: “Then why not make them depend on you?”

Serene gave him a blank stare, and Sorn found his face getting hot. He had blurted that on account of being taken off-guard by Serene appearing so vulnerable.

Sorn: “You’re a dependable person, so I think you just need to prove it to them. They might not tell you things for a good reason. Just have faith in them and if a critical time comes you just need to do better than everyone else.”

Serene continued to give him the same stare for a few additional seconds, before breaking the awkward tension with an uncharacteristic laugh. He was really bringing those out today.

Serene: “Thanks Sorn. You’re a good kid. Stay that way.”

She placed a close fist on his chest. Sorn had learned this to be a side of brotherhood, and he did the same.

Serene: “Good luck on the tournament tomorrow.”

Sorn: “You too.”

Despite training consistently for the tournament, he couldn’t shake the anxious feeling regarding the upcoming Prophecy. His short encounter with Varian had left him frightened. The memory of the spear pointing towards him replayed constantly in his head. It had given him a sense of death that lingered in the depths of his heart. He could hardly recall Toren slicing open his frontside, but this scenario had embedded far deeper into his head.

This isn’t the time to think about that

As he made it to his bed he stretched with a great sigh. He needed to fall asleep but he just couldn’t. Maybe if he just tuned out the heavy laughter from below.

———

Varian looked out from the edge of the Dome. All the Elementals walking looked fittingly like ants from his altitude. He stood in silence for a couple minutes, swimming in his own thoughts before turning. He looked at both his student and his best servant. He thought quite solemnly that this perhaps would be the last time the three of them would be in a situation as calm as this. He told his servant to disappear, leaving him with Keilan.

Varian: “Tomorrow will decide the fate of this nation.”

Both the servant and the student had been kneeling while waiting for their master’s action. For the first time since, Keilan looked up.

Keilan: “Yes.”

Varian: “Are you nervous?”

Keilan: “No.”

Varian: “Why?”

Keilan: “I’ll die soon anyways, and even in their current state none can challenge the Spears in a true battle.”

Varian: “That is true.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Varian was the one to break it.

Varian: “Tell me Keilan. Do you hate me?”

Keilan for the first time in a while, looked uneasy. It took him a fair moment to respond.

Keilan: “Yes.”

Varian: “Then why do you follow me? Why do you accept your own death?”

Keilan: “For the isl-”

Varian: “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Keilan had gone from uneasy to blatantly shocked. However, despite his language, Varian remained stern and unbothered.

Varian: “What has the Ice ever done for you? The fortress only cares for your death. Ever since your bastard brothers abandoned their duty, you have been left to carry their burden. You do this for your sister. So that she won’t die. So that she will become Emperor. Because you know if that happens, I will serve her and die to give her Seraph’s power.”

Keilan didn’t meet Varian’s eyes, but he gave a truthful nod. He felt extremely bothered by being read this easily.

Varian turned away so that his expression was out of Keilan’s vision before allowing himself to smirk. He had indoctrinated this boy flawlessly. He aimed a spear at a baby phoenix flying by.

Varian: “That’s rare meat. I suppose that’ll make for the banquet.”

Keilan: “The stars shine bright.”

Varian: “That’s a sign. The day of the Prophecy. The day that will be forever recognized in our history. Tomorrow.”

———

Bjorn was fighting three of his men at once. He was exhausted from helping prepare the arena, but frankly this helped him let off steam. Nearby, his nephew and daughter sat looking at them. They were clearly anxious for the Prophecy. Bjorn couldn’t blame them. Oden especially had been through much but he was still a child.

Oden: “The stars shine bright today.”

Serene: “Do you think you’re going to find it out?”

Oden: “It’s the last Prophecy towards before the Promised Day, if it’s not then, then it’ll be never. Both ways, we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

———

Freyja stood before her soldiers, her voice ringing with determination. Beside her stood Kylen, her husband, the most handsome man in the Fortress. Her pillar. Her husband. Her everything. Behind the podium, he tightly clutched her hand, only visible to Toren standing behind them.

Freyja: “O Dancing Blade, my beauties. Tomorrow is the dawn of our destinies. It is not just another day. Tomorrow will mark both our greatest challenge and our opportunity. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of the Spear’s downfall. They betrayed us, they infiltrated our ranks with spies-”

A collective yell of outrage could be heard from across the room.

Freyja: “And when that day comes, the Dancers will freeze through the Spears that have terrorized our beloved home for so long. And the day that will decide if that day comes will be tomorrow!”

———

Sorn woke up with the rays of the sun glaring into his eyes. Despite the multiple days he had spent in this room, this experience has, and will likely continue to get the better of him.

If I live another day.

He would’ve been woken up rudely regardless as Oden stomped into his room, gazing delightfully at Sorn.

Oden: “Are you ready?”

The realization came to Sorn. He had dreamt so peacefully, he forgot today was the day.

Today is Tomorrow. The Prophecy is Tonight.

End.