Hey there guys and welcome to another chapter of IHIE.

So, one of you asked for an artwork depicting Alan Frost. But since I don't have any time on hand to do an artwork throughout these hard times, I'll simply put a link right here to a picture that best captures what I originally thought of Alan. It's pretty much how he looks like, except he has brighter eyes and his ears are rounded and not elfy.

Full credit of the art goes to its artist, Negshin.

art/Guardian-sneak-peak-194683749

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the story and don't worry, Teemo will die soon!

*notices Saladeo*

-Wings senpai

In her Icy Embrace

Chapter 3: How he reached out.

In no time at all, 2 weeks had flown by. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, each day becoming a tedious sort of routine. Wake up, freshen up, Eat breakfast, Go train for 5 hours with Reinhart. Then, go back to take a shower, eat some dinner then proceed to train 5 more hours with Lissandra. Finally, an hour for himself before he had to go to sleep. Wonderful.

Another ordinary day started when Alan woke up, making some noises at the back of his throat at his loss of sleep as be pushed himself up into a sitting position. Life here so far north was a bit weird when it came to the time. Since the area always had a snowstorm blowing through, even when the snow was mild, it was impossible to tell when it was day and when it was night. Lissandra had said that they had 6 months of days and 6 months of nights. The sixth month of night had already ended and they were in their first month of sun. It had taken him awhile to know when to sleep and when to stay awake, but since the ice castle was situated inside a mountain, most rooms didn't have windows.

Again, Alan had to wonder how strong Lissandra really was that she had made this entire ice castle by herself. It was huge, as far as Alan had explored, with 3 floors which had hallways that branched almost infinitely. He had only explored the main hallways and peeked into a certain room or two.

Finally, he got up. He went into his bathroom, washing the sleep from his face before taking one of the razors provided to him [made of ice] and shaving off the stubble that had grown for the last day. His facial hair grew slowly and sparsely, and he didn't like it. Usually, it took 3 days for the stubble to even become noticeable.

He ran a hand through his white hair, which was getting slightly long now. Walking back into his room, he perused his wardrobe for something casual to wear, since right now, he wore just a pair of boxers.

Two minutes later, he was wearing a short sleeved blue top with loose blue trousers that would allow him to move and train with ease. It took him another 3 minutes to find the dining room, which was a floor below where his room was. He still didn't know why he got the room right next to Lissandra's room, but he didn't question it much.

There was a lot to pick from when he got there, as the Iceborn turned out to handle fire during cooking very well, although their fire was strangely blue and did not give off heat. It still cooked food nice and warmly, though. He grabbed a three-decker sandwich from the table, exchanging greetings with some of the people he knew. There was Fenrir, another man from the Congelate Elite, Eluvia, who was a servant/maid to the queen, Kenway, who was one of the infantry along with Hilda. All of them had the usual iceborn looks, white hair and blue skin. But now, having spent most of his time within their midst, he had learned to see the subtle differences. Some had paler skin than others, or darker tones. Some of their white hair was shiny like snow; others had dusky off-white hair or platinum blonde, even silver. And of course, all of them looked different in terms of facial structure and bodily structure, just like normal people.

Lissandra herself was a mystery. From what Alan had found out about her, she had lusciously long white hair, silky smooth to the touch, like trying to hold the winter's breeze. Her skin was a light shade of blue and although he had touched her only once and for a few fleeting moments, he remembered the comforting coolness in her soft and supple skin. She was tall as well, unlike most women, and carried herself in a way that only a queen could do so. Her movements seemed like she was gliding on ice, smooth and graceful. He had seen her eyes, a shade of gentle periwinkle with silvery white edges. They could be soft and cool like snow and turn frigid and sharp like an icicle within the span of a second. Her personality itself was quite the puzzle as well. She kept up a wall of indifference towards everything, verging on the precipice between arrogance and impartiality. But when she didn't wear her mask, or when she was caught off guard, which Alan seemed to have a knack for doing, her wall would suddenly shatter and he would glimpse a timid, submissive side of her, which was similar to a little girl.

Lost in thought, Alan bumped into a door and found himself empty handed, his sandwich already eaten, the door to the training room in front of him.

He opened the door, walking in to see Reinhart standing there with another man. The second man was as tall as Alan, but looked twice as imposing. He stood there silently, like a statue, no indication that he was even breathing. He wore dark blue crystalline armor all over his body, his face covered by a mask of reflective dark ice that prevented anyone from seeing his face. His white hair was long on one side, down the right side of his face, where it was tied into a tiny ponytail near his eye level. He had silver ear rings shaped like X's, with one of the legs of the 'X' acting as the pin through the ear, thin and sharp.

"Good Morning Alan." Reinhart said as the other man turned his head slowly to look at Alan. "This is another member of the Congelate Elite, our Special Op officer, Glass."

"Glass?" Alan asked. He found the name peculiar, but found the man even more so. He still wasn't moving, aside from staring at Alan. "So why is he here?"

"He'll be taking a test on you to see how well you're fighting now." Reinhart said as Alan raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, no weapons. Only your body." Reinhart reassured as Alan frowned at the other man, sizing him up. It was impossible to tell how skilled the man was.

A few minutes later, both of them were in the training mat. Alan kept a stance, watching the man warily as he slowly began circling. The man took no stance other than the way he stood, circling with Alan so he didn't get flanked. Alan noticed a lot of Iceborn gathering around their ring to see who would win.

Alan dashed forward. The days he had trained had improved him drastically, as he moved much, much faster now. He aimed a curved uppercut with his right hand travelling left-up, but Glass moved away from the hit. Alan continued to the momentum, allowing the uppercut to turn him around so he did a complete 180. Kicking off with is legs, he now aimed a very heavy elbow-thrust with his left elbow at Glass's chest. Glass had taken his armor off, wearing the standard dark blue uniform of all the soldiers, so there was no fear of getting the backfiring pain of his flesh and bone hitting hard armor. But Glass was nimble, sidestepping the elbow with a small spin. That spin turned viciously fast at the end as Glass suddenly whipped his outside leg around at Alan's exposed side.

Alan tightened the muscles on his targeted side to brace for the impact, but when it hit, it still made him grunt. The attack had placed Glass facing Alan, since Alan had done his elbow-thrust in a sideways movement. He lashed out with his right arm, aiming a chop with his forearm at Glass' throat, but the Spec Ops officer raised both of his arms, using them to take the brunt of the impact before shoving Alan's extended arm down. Glass suddenly lunged forward, slamming his forehead into Alan's face.

Alan made a sputtering noise as blood gushed out of his now broken nose, pouring over his lips as he stumbled back from the impact, dazed, vision blurred with the reflex release of tears to his eyes. Glass wasted no time, suddenly falling down into a very low crouch and spinning around, a sweep with one leg outstretched kicking Alan off of his unbalanced posture.

Alan's back hit the ground with a resounding thump as he groaned, eyes opening then widening as he rolled away to the right, moments before Glass, who had used his crouch to launch up into the air, slammed down with his elbow where Alan had been moments earlier.

Creating some distance between them, Alan using the back of his right hand to wipe away the curtain of blood that had formed on the lower part of his face from his nose. That left a long streak of smudged blood on the back of his forearm, but Alan paid it no heed, keeping a wary eye on Glass, who seemed to have returned to his casual posture, no movements visible to Alan, not even the expected rise and fall of Glass' chest from breathing.

"Is he even human?" Alan asked as Reinhart's mouth twitched with amusement.
"No, he's Iceborn, as are we all." Reinhart answered as Alan spit out the blood and saliva that had accumulated within his mouth, leaving a coppery taste. "Lovely." Alan stated, before dashing forwards again.

This time, Alan went with a quick combo of 4 jabs to Glass's head before aiming a strong haymaker with his other hand, down below. It succeeded, as Glass had raised both his arms to take the 4 jabs, giving Alan's other hand a clear path. The punch was powerful, Alan's arm muscles rippling from the impact as it slammed into Glass' stomach region, the muscles there already tense in anticipation of his punch. Glass still made no sound, but it was obvious he was reeling from the punch as Alan carried on with the momentum of his punch, bending his right arm as he came closer before thrusting his elbow upwards.

It slammed into Glass' chin, the elite's head whipping upwards from the force as the man began to stumble back. Alan wasted no time, shouting with effort as his left arm shot out from under his right arm's elbow, slamming a final punch into Glass' now unprepared abdomen.

The elite fell back onto the mat, a dull thump echoing through the room with the fall as Alan panted with exertion. Everything was silent for a few moments. Then, the entire room broke in cheers and applause. Alan raised his head, looking around to see all the Iceborn wearing looks of amazement and approval at his victory, Reinhart nodding proudly.

"Well done, Alan." Reinhart stated as Alan turned his eyes back to Glass, who was finally recovering, pushing himself up onto his arms.

Alan walked over and offered an arm to Glass, who looked at it for a few moments, face still hidden by his mask, before reaching up and clasping it. Alan pulled the man up as Lissandra walked over.

"Well fought, both of you." Lissandra stated as she looked at Alan first and then at Glass. "Thank you, Dismissed."

Glass bowed silently to Lissandra before walking out of the training room. The other soldiers were returning to their own spars and workouts as Lissandra looked at Alan again, tilting her head to the side.

"You're hurt." She stated.
"No shit. I wonder what gave it away." Alan said with a small smirk, aware of the blood coating most of the lower half of his face. The corner of Lissandra's lips twitched as she said, "Come."

…

"Ah fuck." Alan swore as he tried to pour just a bit of the health potion into a teaspoon, but spilled most of it trying to do so.

"Tch let me." Lissandra said impatiently, taking the small flask and spoon from him and slowly pouring it out onto the spoon. They were both back in Alan's room, where Alan had taken a seat on his bed with Lissandra next to him, a small bag of first aid supplies on her lap.

Alan had changed out of the top he was wearing since it had been ruined with blood. His nose had stopped bleeding but was badly misshapen and swollen.

"Open." Lissandra said in a soft voice as Alan obeyed, opening his mouth. Lissandra gently placed the spoon on his lips and poured the potion in, Alan swallowing it. Instantly, Alan felt tingles all over his body, especially on his nose as the bruises healed. But he became more aware of the position they were in, with both of them leaning close, Lissandra spoon feeding him.

The thought seemed to have appeared to Lissandra as well as she froze in her movements, watching Alan through her mask. Alan longed to see what was under her mask. It was a curiousity that nibbled at his conscious every time he laid eyes upon her concealed face.

Before he even realized it, his right hand had reached up to the exposed part of Lissandra's face. Lissandra stiffened at his approach, but did not move, both of them holding their breaths as Alan's hand inched closer…. Soft, cool skin, belonging to her cheek, met his fingertips as they finally touched her face, Lissandra tensing up reflexively for the pain which did not come. A moment or two passed without pain and Lissandra found her tense muscles relaxing, or rather, melting under the soft caress of Alan.

A crack sound and Alan recoiled, his hand shooting away from Lissandra's face and to his own as he clutched his nose, swearing again. The potion had finished its job and snapped all the bones in his nose back into place.

Just like that, the moment was lost as Lissandra blinked [obviously not visible to Alan], a blush creeping up onto her cheeks in the form of a light pink tinge. She was not used to people getting around her icy wall of indifference so easily. She finally exhaled the breath she was holding, Alan not meeting her eyes.

"Your nose is fixed, you should go clean up." Lissandra said in an unmotivated way, closing up the first-aid bag and standing up. "There's no more training tonight, get some rest." She said and walked out of his room without another glance. Alan could only stare after her, confused by the actions he had taken and the whirlwind of emotions swirling within his mind.

…

Time skip: 1 week

…

Alan truly was a very, very fast learner. Like a natural, he had learned how to fight well enough to go toe-to-toe with Reinhart now. His magical potential was revealed to be quite excellent as his cryomancy had become formidably strong in a short amount of time.

Now, he was wearing the armor of the Congelate Elite, dark ice and platinum, Frig Ascutis sheathed at his side, standing next to other Elites. They were overlooking the precipice of a small rise, watching the small city of Avarosa in the distance.

"Today is the day we deal retribution upon the usurper to Queen Lissandra's throne." Reinhart said, standing next to Alan. Like Alan, Reinhart carried his helmet under one arm, sword sheathed at his side.

"Where is Lissandra?" Alan asked, his hair, now long enough to cover one eye completely, blowing in the wind and flecked with the snow that fell.
"She is behind us, protected by the other Congelate Elite. I myself shall stand next to her. You, on the other hand…"
"I will be leading the charge, I know." Alan said, no emotion present in his steeled voice.
"Are you sure you want this? Queen Lissandra and I both suggest otherwise." Reinhart said as Alan pulled his helmet on, the platinum helmet gleaming in the diffused light for a moment, the dark blue feathery edges of the winged helmet moving in the wind. There were two eye holes in the helmet, so the majority of his face was protected.

"Let me know when it's time." Alan said, sitting down on the snow as Reinhart walked away. The fact that they were going to battle within a few hours was nerve wracking, yet Alan was able to detach himself from his usual personality so he didn't feel anything except butterflies in his stomach. He kept himself distanced from his emotions, knowing that this way, he wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Controlling your own mind was another key knowledge for magic arts, so Alan had already learned how to do so about 4 days ago.

Lost in thoughts and contemplations, Alan didn't notice the time going by until Reinhart finally walked over and nudged Alan.

"It's time."

…

Everything was happening in flashes at a time, other less important things not even registering in Alan's mind. One moment, he was lining up with the other soldiers. The next moment, he was running at full sprint at the wall of soldiers coming up at them from the opposite direction. A war cry tore out of his throat, joined by others as he raised the broken blade of Frig Ascutis. A tugging sensation in his gut, and the sword completed itself by freezing the air itself to form the rest of the blade.

"FOR LISSANDRA!" He shouted, meeting the charge head on.

The first man that Alan faced literally ran into his blade, since they were both charging. The barbarian had raised his sword, a dire mistake for the first charge, and Alan had pierced him through with his sword. The fun thing about Frig Ascutis that Alan had found out a last week was that the length and shape of the sword varied according to his desire. Right now, as he had charged, the blade was thin and very long, about 7 ft. It pierced right through the barbarian's chest in a slightly upward angled thrust, exiting out the back and then shooting through the mouth of another barbarian right behind, whose war cry died along with him as the blade pierced through his head. Alan wasted no time, pulling his blade out as he kicked the dead bodies away, the ice separating itself from the black portion of Frig Ascutis so he didn't have to wrench it out and waste time and energy, instead simply forging another blade from the air again, this time 3 ft. in length.

Everything was a blur. No amount of training had prepared Alan for this. The sheer amount of chaos within the battlefield was astounding and half the time, Alan had to first discern friend from foe before attacking or not. Alan was shoved and pushed from every direction, as he himself pushed and shoved back in the utter chaos of fighting within the battleground. But it wasn't that hard; the barbarians were ill trained and unarmored and the Iceborn cut them down swiftly.

Suddenly, Alan was shoved forward into a small clearing by the warriors fighting around him. He had a split second to ponder upon why there was a clearing in a tight battle when a very muscular man with a very large and jagged sword came at him with a roar. Alan had to reinforce the ice of his blade before he used it to block the heavy hit, but the man was extremely strong and fast. Slash after slash, Alan had to deflect and parry as his opponent, who had a scruffy beard, long dark hair and a horned helmet, kept hacking at him with immense strength and momentum. Alan actually found himself having to repair the blade after every swing, since the impacts were strong enough to chip even the dark ice edge of Frig Ascutis.

An overhead slash, aimed to cleave Alan down in two, strengthened by the man's other hand as well, came at him. Alan raised his sword, being forced to grab the blade with his left hand to form a brace to take the brunt of the strike.

The impact shattered Alan's sword and the shock of suddenly being forced to lose the icy extension of his sword felt like he had just lost a limb. On impulse, Alan reached inside of him in a panic, gripping the intense sense of fear and shock and using that to fuel his magic.
A pulse of energy exploded outwards from him in a spherical shape, going a feet in every direction, weakening rapidly. But it did what it was meant to, which was to shove the man back and prevent the slash from carrying through and cutting Alan.

Alan finally released the breath he held, his eyes wide from brushing death as he dropped the ice blade he still held in his left hand, blood dripping after the ice. His blade had cut deep into his left hand from the force, possibly down to the bone, but Frig Ascutis had frozen the gash, preventing him from bleeding profusely or from experiencing the mind-shattering pain. He simply felt an intense numbness in his left hand and the inability to move his fingers effectively as he looked up at the man, who seemed to be grinning viciously.

"Is this all the Champion of Lissandra has to offer!? Hahahaha, you're just a sniveling pup!" He shouted, guffawing with laughter. An iceborn suddenly broke out of the fray around them and came at the barbarian, but he simply stopped laughing and swung his blade, cleaving the frostguard in half. He then watched as Alan shook out of the fear gripping him, standing up again (he had fallen to one knee from the strike) as he reforged his sword, this time the blade being thicker and wider.

"I like your spunk, kid." The man said, raising his blade at Alan with one hand. "My name is Tryndamere! King of Freljord! Remember this well, as I will be the one to slay you!" Tryndamere shouted.
Alan snorted, narrowing his eyes as he assessed the situation now that he had calmed and collected himself. Judging from the sheer muscle mass that Tryndamere possessed, it'd be impossible to beat him in direct combat. Both Reinhart and Lissandra had taught him what they each excelled at… But Reinhart could not do the ancient art of Cryomancy. Nor Could Lissandra wield a blade as effectively as he could.

They had both taught them their ways. Now, it was his turn to make something of them. By merging the two fighting styles.

Alan stuck his sword down into the snow, reaching up and taking his helmet off. It dropped into the snow beside him seconds later as Alan bared his face and white hair to Tryndamere, icy cold eyes staring at Tryndamere with a contrasting fire within them.

"My name is Alan Frost. And the only one who will be falling in this battle will be you, Tryndamere." Alan said as Tryndamere laughed. "Big talk from a small man!" Tryndamere said in his throaty voice as Alan raised his right hand.

Form the shape. Know the structure. Feed it with your willpower. Draw the strength from the cold. Embrace the creation and pull it into reality…

Tryndamere's grin melted off of his face and turned into shock as he watched Alan form a thick icicle, which continued to grow and refine itself until it was a seven foot long spear made of dark ice.

"You're a Cryomancer!? I thought… Your sword… But…" Tryndamere gaped. Ashe herself was a Cryomancer, but she wasn't that powerful. She could form arrows out of ice, true, but forming her trademark crystalline arrow took a lot out of her. She was a queen, he was just a boy, and yet he had just formed a spear of ice, flawless and deadly looking.

"Surprise surprise." Alan said with a small smirk as he suddenly stepped forward, bringing his arm back before chucking the spear forward with all his strength. Tryndamere had to duck to dodge the spear, which pierced the back of a war boar. Instantly, from the point of impact, the war boar and its rider froze solid, encased in dark ice, no time for them to even scream in surprise. Tryndamere turned back around to see Alan dashing towards him, the distance closed.

The barbarian king reacted only fast enough to block the diagonal upward slash, but the deflection caused a lot of dark ice to fall off the blade, making it smaller and thinner. Alan continued with his motion, turning his back to Tryndamere and only when it was too late did Tryndamere see the glint on Alan's other hand.

A crimson ribbon flew through the air, landing in the snow and staining it red as Tryndamere stumbled back, a thin slash across his chest. Alan only waited a moment, long enough for Tryndamere to see another blade, this one made entirely out of dark ice, in Alan's left hand before Alan came at him again.

This time it was Tryndamere on the defensive as he blocked each strike that Alan made. Alan suddenly brought his arms back for an overhead slash and Tryndamere brought his sword up to block the hit, but Alan drove Frig Ascutis into the ground instead, in front of Tryndamere. A moment later, Icicles erupted out of the ground all around Alan, like an explosion of razor sharp ice. Tryndamere barely managed to get away, groaning through gritted teeth in pain as his entire front side bled profusely, riddled with holes and cuts.

Alan's emotions were in too much disarray right now to be able to be harnessed right now, so Alan switched from that to his mana pool, draining it dry as he drove the sword deeper in the ground. The icicles that were protruding from the ground, each at least 5-7 feet in length and razor sharp, suddenly shot out in all directions. Everyone around him took cover behind shields, but his icicles tore through the weak wooden shields that the barbarians carried. Some didn't carry shields at all. But every time an icicle came into contact with the dark ice armor or shield that the Frostguard or Congelate Elite was wearing, it dissolved into harmless flakes of ice on impact.

Alan panted, standing up to see a pool of blood all around him, barbarians torn and impaled by the icicles he had shot were lying dead around him. He looked up in front of him to see Tryndamere lying on the ground on his back, arms and legs spread eagle, large spears of ice protruding from each limb and 3 of the icicles protruding from his torso. Blood was rapidly pooling around him as he coughed. Alan took a step forward, suddenly stumbling at the sudden weakness he suffered in his body. He felt numb all over as he slowly stumbled forwards. Tryndamere coughed up blood violently again, looking down at the ice piercing his body all over before noticing Alan walking over.

He struggled to speak, lips moving but unable to say anything coherent as blood continued to ooze out. Finally, as the last breath left his lips, he managed to say one word. "Cheater…"

Alan stared down at the man before looking up at the other Iceborn soldiers surround them, staring at him in awe. The look in his eyes confirmed it as everyone began cheering in victory, the remainder of the barbarian forces having already ran off. Alan managed a weak smile, eyes falling upon Lissandra, who was on the far side of the battle. She was looking at him, mouth slightly open in awe. Alan's smile lasted for a few more moments, until his vision suddenly swam and his feet decided to not support him anymore. He felt himself falling into the snow before everything went blank.

Anyways guys, I wanna apologize for the delay again. But, like I said; Life's most important exams coming up in May, and Mock Exams going on right now so I'm pretty high-strung to be able to focus on writing this. I hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this story! Remember, every review counts. I place your thoughts, as the readers, above my own. After all, without you guys, what would we writers be?

-Wings.