Frost Burn

Frost: Chapter 3

As they walked along the main thoroughfare through town, Kirill watched Aradel closely. She was speaking with the elder woman whose face she had mended, and she had also drawn a young girl against her side. The young girl’s hand had a little crack on it that Aradel had done her best to heal. The marks of the disease, which made their skin crack like glass if it got too warm, stayed with them. Yet it shouldn’t have been this warm, not for a few more months. If Aradel was worried about this, she hid it well—a talent she had had since she was a child.

As a member of the Frost Nation’s army, it was his job to protect the queen and her potential successors, Aradel being one of them. Who would have thought the ragged little girl from the Dregs would become a candidate for queen? He still remembered when she arrived at their Winter Palace, her bright hair dirty and in ragged little braids. She had a timid but defiant look on her face, and he had admired her even then. Now she was a sister to him and the closest of his friends. Their differences in status and rank had been bridged years ago by her amazing magical gifts.

Around him, the children held tight to his clothes where they could, and he felt strange without his armor, which he’d taken off for their outing. He felt naked as the citizens of Axion gazed at him and the injured and worn Outlanders. People peered out the windows of their stone homes, which had only curtains to keep the snow out but allow the cold in. A few people called to Aradel, recognizing her as they would any of the other elite candidates. Most of the elite had taken up duties that the Frost Nation’s aging Queen could no longer fulfill. Their Queendom had always been ruled by women, the strongest amongst them, to protect their great nation.

Kirill crossed his arms in annoyance as he watched Aradel mingle with the people, trying his best to feel less vulnerable without his armor. The children drew closer for protection, fanning out behind him like some fine dress, or like ducklings following their mother. He had to be careful not to walk too quickly.

Aradel glanced back finally, her eyes careful to take in his expression and the children’s state, before continuing towards the palace. If they had been anywhere but the middle of Axion, he surely would have used his magic to freeze the end of her skirts to the ground as revenge for the amused smile on her face.

“Who are they?” one of the children whispered, tugging on his clothes and pointing to the beings walking with Aradel ahead of him.

“Outlanders,” he answered, looking down at the towheaded boy. “They live beyond The Wall for parts of the year.”

“That’s scary,” a raven-haired girl said, tightening the hold she had on her friend.

“They get to see the world beyond The Wall,” Kirill added, glancing around at their exhausted faces. “Normally it is safe for a few more months before the spring comes.”

“Did the Fire Nation do it?” one of the girls asked, her little mouth opened in fear.

“I thought the fracturing disease happened when it was hot outside,” a boy cut in before Kirill could answer. Kirill didn’t have an answer, so he just continued forward, only half listening.

“It does,” a black haired boy with sharp features said matter-of-factly. “During the second war, the Fire Nation attacked using temperature against us. They warmed the area around our army and killed them slowly in their sleep. Only the strongest survived!”

The children peered at the Outlanders; most of those without magic were unmarked. Lord Drykus, a non-magic user, had likely died for the old woman and the girl. Kirill’s eyes narrowed on the girl as Aradel said something to her. He could sense the magic in her; she had not learned to dampen her aura yet.

Another person called to Aradel, and he half wished it was any other day because the streets would be far less crowded. Today was the day of reverence, though, on which each family paid homage to the moon. They would make trips throughout the day to their Moon Temple, and then tomorrow work would start again. It was considered shameful to conduct business on Moonday.