The North's Shadow

The Heart of Ice

After my sudden reprieve, I walked down the winding corridors of the castle, my fear and frustration building with each step.

As my footsteps echoed down the hall, I noticed castle staff glancing my way, whispering about the "foreigner" stirring up trouble. I quickened my pace, my jaw clenched. Can't I get five minutes without a bodyguard breathing down my neck? I thought, as Gregory followed close behind me.

Rounding a bend, I spotted a large, imposing door slightly ajar. Without a second thought, I slipped inside, savoring even a few seconds of solitude. Thankfully, Gregory gave me my privacy and waited outside the door as I took in the room—a vast library, lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with leather-bound books and ancient scrolls.

I wandered deeper into the room, letting my fingers graze the spines as the earthy smell of aged wood and parchment wrapped around me. Now this is more like it, I thought, my curiosity momentarily overtaking my fear. One title caught my eye: Legends of the Northlands. I flipped it open, skimming the pages until one passage made my heart stop.

"The Heart of Ice, an artifact of unfathomable power, is said to be imbued with the essence of the North. It grants immense strength, but only to those pure of purpose... or those willing to sacrifice all else."

A chill slid down my spine. Could this have something to do with the stone Grandpa left behind? I leaned closer, my pulse quickening as I absorbed every word, so engrossed that I didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind me.

"Curiosity can be a dangerous thing, Miss Mackey."

"What the—" I flinched, clutching the book as I whipped around to find the man who resembled Duke Valouron standing in the doorway.

I quickly composed myself, trying to mask the rush of nerves. "I didn't realize this room was off-limits," I replied coolly, but my heart was racing from the sudden intrusion.

"It's not forbidden," he said, stepping further into the room, his gaze dropping to the book in my hands. "But knowledge can be a weapon, and the untrained are more likely to turn it on themselves."

I straightened, determined to maintain control. "If there's something in here that explains why I've been dragged into this world, I'd rather be 'untrained' and aware than completely in the dark."

He stepped closer, his interest piqued. "And what have you found in your search for truth?" His eyes flicked to the page I'd been reading. "Interesting."

I held up the book, tapping my finger on the passage. "The Heart of Ice," I murmured. "You've heard of it?"

A flicker of recognition crossed his features, but his tone remained cool. "It is not something for a... novice to be meddling in. You would do better to learn more about the War of the Elemental Wings."

The War of Elemental Wings? "It says this artifact holds powerful magic—magic that could bring me home."

His expression softened slightly, but before he could respond, I tilted my head, curiosity getting the best of me. "And you are...?"

"Ah, where are my manners?" He said with a smirk, his gaze never leaving me. "I am Alistair Valouron, an uncle of the duke."

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Alistair Valouron? For some reason, the idea of meeting a member of his family piqued my curiosity. There was something... familiar about the way he looked at me, almost as if he knew more than he was letting on. My stomach tightened slightly.

Just as I was about to ask him about his connection to the Duke or how long he'd been here, the sound of heavy footsteps interrupted me.

Duke Valouren's cold voice sliced through the air. "Alistair," he said, his gaze flicking to his uncle with an icy edge. "Celestia is looking for you. I suggest you take your leave."