Ice warriors

Prologue

Biting wind nipped at the five siblings as they sat around their small campfire.
Rorak second born, sat atop a fallen trunk regaling his three younger siblings with tales of their fathers great deeds. They had all heard the story plenty of times before but they found it interesting never the less.
"Just skip to where he kills the bear and we can leave," said Sharnark, from where he lay further along the fallen tree.
"Don't be boring Sharnark, we all want to hear the story" said Signe the second youngest
"Really? Helina is barely two, so I doubt she cares and Nard only ever wants practice his blood wielding, isn't that right brother?"
Nard stuttered a reply as he tried to hide his left hand,in which he'd been blood wielding, further behind his back.
"Nard wants to here it and Helina is smiling so she likes it too, anyway it should be you telling the tale you are the oldest!"
"He just wants to see if he can get his hand down Gwendas leggings" said Nard quietly.
"Listen!" Said Rorak standing up, he towered above them all even Sharnark who was older.
"Signe and Sharnark stop arguing. Nard get your mind out of the cesspit, I will finish the story quickly, that way everyone will be happy, any complaints?"
"Alright brother" said Signe and Nard almost in unison. Sharnark merely grunted his acceptance and Helina blew a spit bubble.
Rorak continued the tale.
Their father was the Clan chief, Burhon bears bane, he'd earned the title after he and their uncle Smiling Skarza were lost in the mountains and attacked by a giant grizzly bear, Burhon had killed it. How he'd achieved that had become legend now, with many people actually believing he'd used his bare hands, Rorak and Sharnark knew the truth of it but Rorak told a fantasy version to entertain the youngsters.
"Alright now that is finished,"
"You are going to go hunting with Nard like you do every year" Said Rorak cutting off his older brother.
Nard shot up, "I've been working on how to make a bow and arrow that works,"
Sharnark muttered to himself before saying, "Thats great brother,"
He then swung his legs from the tree and stood up into the snow, walking slowly over to Nard he said "If we are going to use our magics to hunt I better loosen up," he stretched his left arm across his body hooking his right over it, suddenly a small but distinctive amount of lighting shot from his index finger and turned a leaf to embers, just beside Rorak.
"Shar! You almost hit Rorak, you need to be more careful" said Signe
The hulking second born said nothing, understanding more than his brutish appearance suggested he should.
Sharnark merely offered a brief smile then gestured for Nard to follow him before stalking off into the wood.

Rorak sat in silence and watched as his youngest brother trailed after Sharnark, his keen eyes caught a drip of blood land on the pale white snow before it was covered over by the gentle downpour. He signed.
"What magic do you think Helina will have Rory?" Asked Signe cuddling the two year old in her lap.
Whatever thought he was about to have was abandoned and he turned to his sister.
"It's not certain that she will," he began
"Of course she will, I think she will be a frost witch like me and mother,"
"You're not a frost witch Sig,"
"Yes I am! I don't care if I am supposed to be able to use water as well, I won't just like mother"
There was no point going against her when she thought she was right, being out-willed by a eight year old, but surely that who I am.
"Why do you think are family is sooo magical?"
He didn't know the answer, he'd once asked their father, who was an Iron Lord, why almost everyone in their family had the power when many other families consisted of quite the opposite.
His father had offered only proud boasts similar to what Sharnark or even Nard would likely give.
His best guess was whatever the reason two parents with black hair had a child with black hair also. Their family were magical and because they were, they were.
"I don't know" he said.
"I think it's because father is the Clan chief,"
Rorak waited for time for a further explanation and when it didn't come he sighed.

Sharnark's long strides took him further and faster into the wood than he'd realised, by the time he had he couldn't see Nard. A faint twinge of panic gripped him but only momentarily.
Concern turning into frustration he waited, leaning against a tree and watching the direction he had come from, he made no attempt to hide his tracks so Nard should be along any moment now. To burn some time and busy his hands he rolled a cigarette using some of stash his father had imported from the south lands. He then ripped off a piece of bark and holding it betwixt his forefinger and thumb he sent electricity through the small piece of wood until it caught a light, he quickly lit the cigarette then tossed the bark into the snow. Nard was still not here.
He took a heavy pull and let the smoke fill his lungs and exhaled, the boy was damp, there was no helping him. He made to push away from the tree when he felt a sudden pressure on his lower back, in almost one motion he leapt forward spinning in the air. Landing in a half crouch his legs splayed ready to lunge forward or jump back. His right hand was still drawing out a throwing axe but his left was brimming with lighting ready to crisp... his brother... Nard.
The boys face was a mix of pride and worry. He loosely held in his left a dark red bow and in his right he'd formed some combination between a gauntlet and a knife, all in the same shade.
Sharnark eased up, tucking the axe back in his belt, if his father allowed him throwing knives he was sure he'd have drawn them quicker.
He let go of his power which was extremely difficult. He'd asked his uncle Coldfist how it felt with ice, but the answer only confused him, his father had told him he might as well explain colours to a blind man.
Electricity once built was desperate to be let loose, to recall it took a certain power of will.
"What is wrong with you! I could have fried you alive."
"I was just practicing hunting, I thought that was why you headed off so fast so I could track and hunt you."
Sharnark was stunned, damn his quick and vicious tongue. It was too late now to pretend that was why he'd stormed off.
"You startled me is all," he muttered.
"Do you want to see my bow?"
Ah yes the unquenchable enthusiasm of the young. Gods he was barely twenty himself, too young by far to be cursing youth.
"Does it even work?" He said and regretted it as he saw Nards face droop.
"I mean I'm sure it quite difficult to get the balance between strength and flexibility quite right with blood alone,"
Did he mean that? He's said that so he best make it seem like he did. In truth he had no idea of how blood magic, blood wielding, blood crafting or whatever combination of blood and a making word, worked.
Anyone within the Empire that showed any chance of the craft was taken to join the imperial army, either becoming an elite soldier or the ultimate elite Blood Knights.
Despite their fathers protestations, their lands were within the empires borders, though no officials had ever left a Clan camp alive to report on their findings.
"Show me," he urged Nard before his line of thought took him into a dark mood.
Nard beamed at him, an expression sure to put ice the hearts of his foes, and scurried over to line up on a tree, drawing blood from his now exposed right palm to make an arrow.
Despite seeing this and similar many times now from Nard, Sharnark still shivered.
His brother notched and drew the arrow, it flew about two feet into the snow. Sharnark fought down the urge to laugh. Instead he tried his best too look encouraging.
Undeterred Nard drew back again and... Sharnark sat down next to a tree and began to roll another cigarette aware that he would be some time.