Her Scar wasn't Blood

Chapter 25 - Fire Scar.

The camp stove's tiny flame flickers weakly against the towering ice wall, barely making a dent. We huddled around it, each of us aware of the sheer futility of our situation, but reluctant to admit it out loud. The cold was relentless, creeping into our bones. Frye's jaw was clenched tight, her fists buried in her pockets, her eyes trained on the wall as though sheer willpower alone could burn it down.

"This is ridiculous," Frye muttered, her voice low but simmering with anger. "We're wasting time."

"Frye, we're doing what we can," Althea replied gently. "Getting angry won't melt the ice any faster."

But Frye's frustration only seemed to grow. She clenched her fists, her expression tightening as she glared at the wall. Her frustration was tangible, radiating from her like a heat wave. Suddenly, her hand went to her cheek, tracing the faint line of her scar.

"Maybe," she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

She closed her eyes, her fingers resting on the scar, and took a long, deep breath. Something about the air around her changed, as though the cold itself was retreating. The scar seemed to pulse faintly beneath her fingertips, and then, almost impossibly, it began to glow, casting a soft red light that painted her face.

"Astra, Althea," she said, her voice almost distant, as if she were speaking from some deep place within. "Step back."

We watched, bewildered, as she raised her hand in front of her, the scar blazing now, hotter and brighter by the second. She stretched her arm out, her fingers splayed towards the ice wall, and from her palm, a flicker of flame appeared, small at first, then growing into a powerful, roaring blaze that licked and crackled in the frozen air.

The fire surged forward, a controlled torrent of heat that melted through the ice, layer by layer. Steam billowed up, obscuring the wall and rising around us in thick clouds. Frye's gaze was fixed, unwavering, as she directed the fire with her hand, her jaw set with fierce concentration. The scar, burning brighter now than ever, was the source, the link between her fury and the inferno melting the barrier before us.

When the wall finally gave way, a narrow opening emerged, just wide enough for us to pass through. Beyond, we could see the faint, shimmering glow of the portal waiting.

Frye exhaled, the flames flickering and fading as she released her control, her scar dimming back to its usual faint mark. She looked at her hand in amazement, her breathing heavy, her expression a mix of surprise and something close to relief.

"That... was incredible, Frye," Althea murmured, clearly in awe.

Frye shrugged, though I could see the pride in her eyes. "Guess my scar finally decided to be useful," she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

With the path open and the fire extinguished, we gathered our things and stepped through the narrow passage, leaving the remnants of the ice wall behind.