Forged in Frost and Fire (Book 1 in the Chronicles of Kings trilogy)

Chapter Twenty Five

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

I took back that "It's not too bad, I can do this," statement an hour in.

I had been walking down the mountain for at least an hour, and everything was trembling, my nose was running, my ears burning, and my muscles ached. While I was walking, I kept dipping into that well of power and felt nothing more than a glimmer of magic. It was still unreachable.

I hadn't even gotten to the second mountain and already my shivering was slowing, which was never a good sign. When shivering stopped that meant hypothermia had worked its merry way into a person's body. I had lived enough winters in Rame to feel what a cold winter was....but I had never experienced one on a gods-damned mountain before.

Sable had been right, since I still had some attachment to the cold I was in better shape than a normal person would have been in. But I was still struggling. My breathing came in wheezes that puffed out in little white clouds of smoke in front of me. And my steps kept faltering. I was weakening, I could feel it happening right inside of me.

I continued onward, coughing against the ache in my chest. I hated the cold. I was always cold. After Tellie's death it had only gotten worse. And the palace...the palace always felt so dark and frigid. Not to mention Sable held no semblance of warmth whatsoever. I was miserable and cold. Always so cold.

I looked up to see I had reached the point where the two mountains connected. Sucking in a long breath, I swallowed hard. I'd have to climb...climb up a freaking mountain. I had never done such a thing before...

"You'll die out here if you don't," I whispered, my voice cracking. I licked at my chapped, bleeding lips. The skin at my hands was starting to bleed to. I longed for gloves or some sort of fabric to cover my fingers with. But instead...I got nothing but my skin. It would have to do.

I began to climb. I used my hands when I needed them, but mostly it was just a steep walk. The rock itself which was covered in ice was slippery and wet and my boots ended up sliding on them much more than I would have preferred.

As I climbed and got higher into the sky, I felt the air going thin. My lungs were struggling for breath and my muscles wouldn't stop shaking. My body was exhausted and every movement was slower and sloppier than the last. I had to stop to breathe, to cry, to scream.

"Come on, Eira," I whispered, leaning my head back, trying to suck in as much air as I could. It felt like I was suffocating. I continued to climb upwards, my boots sliding, my breaths wheezing. I was reaching for another handhold when my hand slipped and caught on the jagged end of a rock. I let out a scream through my teeth as I felt my palm slice open. Cold blood slipped down my fingers and onto the snow below me.

"Gods damn it," I muttered. Cursing against the pain, I reached down for the hem of my shirt and pulled it up. I ripped a bit of the fabric off with a tearing noise that echoed around me. I was reaching down to wrap it around my hand when I felt my foot begin to slip from where it was stationed. I gasped, but it was already too late.

I plummeted downwards, screaming, my body slammed into rocks and jagged ends. I screamed as I felt my wrist snap back, and then again as my side slammed into another rock that jutted out. I felt a strange calm engulf me as the wind whistled around me. This was it. This was how I died.

And then I slammed into reality. Literally.

I groaned as my side slammed into more rock. Something cracked deep inside of me and I let out a blood-curdling scream that had me afraid that I'd start an avalanche. I pried my eyes open to see I had fallen about fifty feet, and had landed on some sort of ledge. Looking to my left I saw I was just inches away from falling down to a cropping of sharp, jagged bits of mountain that would certainly impale me if I were to fall on them. No thank you.