Our challenge made, we collapsed the island and Fartooth’s ship back into their cube forms, and stepped onto the Will of Winter. We could have waited for morning, but that would have just given the archons time to potentially get to Indsamling ahead of us, and start laying traps. Or even rousing the spirit of that place and trying to get it to work against us.
There was no reason to give these hounds an advantage, if we could help it, so the ship teleported, and, for the first time in years, I looked out upon the icy tundra of Frostwind Dale. It was still night, as it had been down in the south, but that only made the vision all the sweeter to my eyes. The air was crystal clear, and I could see the moonlight dimly reflecting off the snow, all the way to the horizon.
Somewhere, out there, would be the lonely mountain of Helvar’s Fall. They called it a mountain, but it was, in truth, a heap of stone barely large enough to be worthy of the title. Even as a child, the climb to the peak was perhaps a half-day’s climb, at an easy pace. But, compared to the surrounding tundra? Well, it may as well have been leagues in height.
In the tribes, legend held that a great hero by the name of Helvar fought at the head of a great host of the tribes. It was said to be the first and greatest time that the tribes had ever been united. How the war-host came to be united, or what tribe Helvar came from changed depending on the teller of the tale, but all agreed on why the tribes banded together.
As legend had it, a sorcerer from distant lands fell into league with demons, and made a dark pact with them. In return for power, in this life and the next, he opened up a great rift, leading from the material plane into the darkest depths of the Abyss. From the portal came demons in the dozens, in the hundreds.
Under Helvar, thousands of warriors from the tribes banded together to fight against the tide of demons. For seven days and nights they fought. Every step forward against the demonic tide was paid for in blood, but Helvar fought like an avatar of Tempus himself, and no demon could stand against him, and Stormbreaker, his mighty greataxe.
Finally, on the eighth day, Helvar stood before the rift. Behind him, only one warrior remained for every ten that had been in the war-host at the beginning, so great had been the cost of getting to this point. But, the demonic horde was broken before them, and all that remained was to seal the portal.
It was then, at the cusp of victory, that the portal surged, and through it came a lord of the Abyss, one of the mightiest demons who ruled over an entire layer of that infinite realm. Behind him, fresh armies of demons marched upon the portal, causing the men of the tribes to know fear at last. Helvar, though, was unbroken, and did not fear, for he knew what he had to do.
With a mighty warcry, he cast himself at the demon lord, burying his mighty Stormbreaker in the demon’s chest. With a prayer to Tempus, God of Battles, upon his lips, he drove forward, pushing the demon back, through the portal, and into the Abyss, though he suffered mortal wounds in the process. Yet, though his stomach was split open, and his entrails dragging upon the snow, the battlefire would not allow Helvar to die so easily! As the last of his lifeblood left his body, he hurled himself into the portal. With this sacrifice, the portal was sealed.
Then, as the remaining warriors mourned the loss of their leader, and so many of their brothers, the ground shook. For Tempus, himself, had witnessed the valor of Helvar, and would not let the grave of so mighty a warrior go unmarked. Stone rose from the ground, and created a mountain out of the empty plain, so that all might mark the resting place of the greatest warrior to ever grace the tundra.
I turned away from the direction I knew the mountain to be, to look upon Indsamling. That tale was connected to the legends of this place, of course. Many believed that the spirit of Indsamling was a fey creature of the tundra, who became the consort of Helvar, though my experiences as a child made me think otherwise. There was a male voice in the mix when I sundered myself from the tribe, after all.
The second theory about the spirit was that it was Helvar’s father, and that was why he was so mighty a warrior. Some darker souls even said that the spirit was, in fact, a demon, perhaps even the demon lord that Helvar fought, bound to this place by Tempus to force them to atone for their sins. Others suggested that it was an avatar of Tempus, himself, hidden there to ensure that the tribes could unite when they were needed once again.
Whatever the case, looking down upon the hot springs, the ring of honor, and the high hall brought a nostalgic feeling to my chest. I had been but a girl the last time I laid eyes on Indsamling, and I had not had a chance to view it from the air, before I flew off into the storm. Now, however, I had the chance to truly see it, and it was beautiful, in its own way.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
However, I could also feel the warding, trying to push me away. I was no longer one of the tribes, and so could not freely enter this place. I gave up that right the last time I was here. I did not regret it then, and I still didn’t. If I had it all to do over again, I would have made the same choices, even with everything that happened.
“My Queen, the others are releasing their ships. Lady Siora wishes to inform you that she is having rooms prepared so you may sleep the night.”
I looked over to Captain Frostknife, and nodded. “Thank you, Captain. Set the watches, and work with the Kobold’s Guile to patrol the area. Our appearance here will not have gone unmarked.”
The Captain nodded, and turned to start giving out orders. I turned my gaze back down to Indsamling. There was no Gathering, at this time. The tents and huts of the tribesmen were nowhere to be seen. The high hall was the only structure there. My eyes said that there was nothing out there, but I knew better. I could feel the pressure on my skin. We were being watched.
The Spirit of Indsamling was watching me, whatever it was. But there was no reason for me to be afraid, so long as I did not provoke it. The spirit, for whatever reason, had rules, either of its own making, or forced upon it as part of the binding that kept it here. So long as I did not do anything to invoke its wrath, it would not move against me.
I spread my wings, and descended to the ground, so that I might walk the tundra again, as I had as a child. I landed by the stone pillars that stood at the ‘gate’ of Indsamling. Four standing stones stood there, and upon them were depicted the symbols of the Tribes, engraved in the stone and colored by paints long sealed against the winter’s wrath. I had barely noticed it, last time.
Last time, there were twelve symbols upon the stones. Bear, Wolf, Walrus, Ram, Fox, Eagle, Yak, Owl, Ox, Goat, Leopard, and Elk. Now, however, there were only five, as only the Fox, Eagle, Leopard, and Elk remained, while a new symbol joined them upon the stones, depicting a Dragon.
From this, I could tell that my curse, and the battle that followed, had, indeed, caused the downfall of my enemies. The tribes that had sided against me in the Council were no more. Whether they had died out, or broken up, with some of their members joining other clans, I could not say.
The new Tribe of the Dragon, though, interested me. Normally, the Tribes of the dale would look to animals to model themselves upon. Dragons were powerful, that much was true, but they weren’t the typical totem that a barbarian would follow. Perhaps this tribe had searched for something more, in hopes of breaking the curse I’d put upon them?
“Well, well, well. Here is a face I never thought to see again. What brings you here, in so strange a manner, young child of the tundra? Do you perhaps regret your Sundering?”
Melinda’s Spot check: 1d20+9 = 24 (Fail)
A male voice spoke to me, and I recognized it immediately, even though I had only heard it once before. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t see where it came from. If the Spirit of Indsamling was so easy to spot, the Tribes would have noticed him long before.
“No, great spirit of Indsamling. Not once, in all the days from that day to this, have I regretted my choice. I may have regretted it being necessary, but I would not have changed any of my choices that day. As for why I have come? That is a long tale, but, suffice to say, I thought to set a trap for those who are hunting me, and thought that this place was useful, for the tribes but rarely come here, and it is far from any towns, leaving little chance of the enemy gaining reinforcements, or drawing outsiders into the mix.”
There was a chuckle as the voice whispered in my ear, and I could swear I almost felt a touch on my shoulder. “Ah, so you seek a space to confront your foes, where you will not draw the tribes or the towns into the fight? Is that nobility I hear? Or simple pragmatism?”
I turned, and found myself face to face with an elf-like creature. It was no true elf, that much I already knew. It was too… perfect, even for the beauty of the elves. As I recovered from the shock that someone got so close to me without my noticing, I took a breath, and smiled. “Pragmatism, and repaying a service done to me, long ago. Both the tribe and the towns have done me no injury. The only tribes that tried no longer exist. The town took me in and sheltered me until the caravans went to the south. I have no quarrel with them.”
“Ah, repaying a debt owed I understand. Even if the other party does not think there is a debt, it is good to keep things square. So, who are these mysterious others that are hunting you, child of the frost?”
“Archons from the higher planes. As I said, it is a bit of a long story, but they are sent by their master and his god, because I helped set off the events that weakened that god, humiliating him somewhat. They now wish to find me, and bring me back to their god for ‘judgement’. Since I have no interest in that, I thought to take the fight to them, instead of facing them all at once.”
“Ah, yes, the gods and their games. And always the mortals getting caught in between. But, you say you made one of them hurt, hmm? That’s impressive. Few can say something like that. Fewer still can still draw breath after the deed is done. I knew there was something special about you, back when you first came with the Tribes. Now, I am glad to see that I was right.”
The man moved forward, circling me. “Once before, you made a bargain with me. Would you make another? I can see the threads of fate about you. You will be facing a god in the flesh soon. When that time comes, would you like another arrow in your quiver, to use against him?”
That sounded too good to be true. “What price would you ask for such a boon? I cannot be Sundered from the tribes again, after all. And I doubt that you would do anything for free.”
“Ah, good to see you are not just power and a pretty face. Yes, I would need a price. And the price is not one you cannot pay. You see, young child of frost, a question has puzzled me. Never, in all the all the ages I’ve been in this world, has a child been born of two Twice-Born. Rarely are their more than two or three Twice-Born alive at a time, and rarer still are the times they meet without fighting. So, this question has puzzled me for many ages. What powers would the issue of such a pairing receive?”
“That… is an interesting line of thought to spend your days on. Especially since it is not something that can be easily answered. Even if I wished to, I have not met another Twice-Born before.”
“Ah, but now you have, youngling. For I am Indsamling Frostbite, a Leshay Twice-Born to this world when it was new. Give me the answer to my question, child of frost, and I shall stand with you when you fight a god.”