Echoes Of The Elements

Chapter 7: Absolute Zero

The days leading up to Zans' departure for Absolute Zero were a grueling test of his endurance, both physically and mentally. Glacius, who had become something of a mentor and father figure, took no chances in preparing Zans for the journey. Each day was a battle against the cold, pushing Zans to confront the elements in their purest, most brutal form.

For hours each day, Zans meditated in the freezing wilderness, stripped of all warmth. The ice beneath him was sharp, digging into his skin, but he remained motionless, eyes closed, letting the cold seep into his very being. His breath, slow and measured, became the only sign of life as the frost encased him, turning him into a living statue.

Glacius observed from a distance, ensuring that Zans pushed himself but never too far. The ColdFish blood vials were prepared with utmost care, each drop more concentrated than the last. The shimmering liquid was a lifeline, designed to sustain Zans when the cold became too much to bear. But even Glacius knew that it could only do so much.

"You must become one with the cold," Glacius instructed during their final meditation session. "Feel it in your bones, let it be your guide. But remember, it is not your friend. The cold seeks to claim you, to turn you into another frozen relic of Absolute Zero."

Zans nodded, his breath fogging in the icy air. "I understand. I'm ready."

The day of departure arrived, and with it, a profound sense of finality. The Eisren Fortress stood silent behind them as Zans and Glacius made their way to the edge of the known world. Beyond this point, there was no return. The boundary of Absolute Zero was marked by a thin line of frost, almost invisible, where the temperature dropped sharply, as if stepping into another realm entirely.

Glacius handed Zans the vial of ColdFish blood, his icy blue eyes reflecting the seriousness of the moment. "This is where I leave you, Zans. The rest of the journey is yours alone."

Zans felt a lump in his throat but swallowed it down, determined not to show any weakness. "Thank you, Glacius, for everything. I'll see you when I return."

"If you return," Glacius murmured, though Zans pretended not to hear.

As Zans neared the edge of Absolute Zero, the cold was no longer just a feeling; it became a relentless assault on his very being. The air itself seemed to crystallize with each breath he took, the moisture in his lungs freezing into razor-sharp shards that tore at him from within. His skin, already numb from the journey, began to harden, the frost creeping up from his fingers, turning his flesh a pale, icy blue.

The wind howled around him, carrying with it a bitter chill that cut deeper than any blade. It was a cold that defied the laws of nature, one that gnawed at his bones and sank into his marrow, an ancient, otherworldly force that had lain dormant for centuries, waiting for the foolish or the brave to come too close. Every step forward felt like wading through a tide of frozen agony, each movement more torturous than the last.

Zans' breath froze the instant it left his lips, hanging in the air as delicate clouds of ice before shattering and vanishing into the abyss. The ground beneath him crackled with the sound of brittle ice, and each footfall sent web-like fractures spreading out in every direction, as if the very earth was rebelling against his presence. The ice wasn't merely cold-it was a void, a nothingness that sucked the warmth from everything it touched, leaving behind only a lifeless shell.

His vision began to blur, the edges of his sight darkening as if the cold itself was stealing the light from his eyes. The world around him was an endless expanse of white, so pure and unforgiving that it seemed to erase all sense of direction, of up or down. The only sounds were the groans and creaks of the ice as it settled into its eternal stillness, punctuated by the occasional distant crack as the frozen landscape shifted and split in response to his intrusion.