Andrey was starting to realize that Frostnova had a penchant for acting suicidal, much to his chagrin. From what he could find, she was lying down in a tent somewhere; Patriot had likely carried her to it. A flicker of warmth came from the walls beside her – a fire outside?
For a moment, Andrey considered the deadly cold surrounding her, feeling somewhat surprised that Patriot had succeeded in even touching her, let alone carrying her such a distance to a tent.
The Wendigo had his ways for everything, it seemed. Perks of living for hundreds of years. Maybe he had simply built an improvised stretcher, or built the tent around her – who knew?
Returning to her mindscape, he stretched his hand out for his Codex, only to freeze halfway. He had to be careful, now. Awakening the voice within him could be lethal, even if only for seconds. Turning, he picked up his Arts orb again.
Could the Wendigo give him some instinct? Forcing energies through the orb, he slowly casted a pulse of energy through Frostnova's wand. It was tiring, at best, but at least it was doable. The complex instructions in the now-destroyed Arts Codex were impossible to utilize now.
Patriot was outside the tent, it seemed. Andrey reached out to him, forming a tenuous connection between the Wendigo's mind and his.
"Patriot?"
"Yes?" The response came surprisingly quickly.
"How is she?"
"She will be mobile again in two days." Patriot responded. "As a precautionary measure, I have casted a shield around her."
"Will that not attract corrupted beasts?"
"Nearby beasts have largely been purged. Stragglers can be readily defeated; there is no need for your worry," Patriot replied. Taking that as his cue to leave, Andrey cut the connection, returning to Frostnova's mind. Two days of boredom it was, then.
Frostnova's eyes fluttered open, and as her mind slowly reset itself, she drew her wand from its sheath; inspecting the steel, and the new set of shallow gouges that now adorned the surface. Still usable.
She sat up, only for a wave of fatigue to overcome her body as she collapsed into a fit of coughs. It was cold; even colder than usual. Looking around, she picked up the bottle of Oripathy suppressants that Patriot had left her, taking one out of the bottle. She picked up her canteen of water and washed the pill down, before looking towards the entrance of the tent. Her tent, she realized; Patriot's was far larger.
She counted the remaining pills, making sure to count each and every one. Five left.
The flaps of the tent were parted, and Frostnova saw Patriot crouched down outside the tent, his bony mask just barely low enough for the Wendigo to see her. "Awake?"
"Yes, Father."
"Stay inside." Patriot stood up and whirled around, thrusting at an unseen enemy with his halberd. Judging by smack of a body hitting a tree, his aim was true. "Corruption, attracted."
He had cast the shield again, hadn't he? While Frostnova appreciated the protection, she was worried it would do more harm than good. The corruption was dangerous – she was sure of it – but she had Andrey to help her.
Speaking of Andrey, she hadn't heard from him yet. "Andrey?"
"You're awake?"
"Yes, though I am weak."
"Stop overusing your –" Andrey started.
"No."
"Why?"
"I can handle this. It's happened before and will happen again. But failing everybody else by failing to cast my Arts is not acceptable," Frostnova argued. "Unless you want to see all the Yetis die?"
"Failing the Yetis by dying, and subsequently having them all die, is even less acceptable." Frostnova countered.
"It's unlikely."
"Far less unlikely then you think, if you are falling unconscious every cast. And your Oripathy also worsens, correct?"
Frostnova looked to the pitiful few suppressant pills remaining. She had to admit, he was correct. Her Oripathy was worsening, at a worrying rate. "Surviving the present is required for future survival."
"But you can survive the present without your high-power Arts. You were not alone; Patriot was also present." She winced at the mention of Patriot; he would likely give her a stern telling-to, after this was all over.
Nonetheless, she stayed firm. "I'd rather minimize the risk for him."
"By maximizing the risk for yourself?"
"If necessary."
Andrey sighed at Frostnova's resistance. She was quite stubborn when coming up with ways to kill herself. He could help her to the best of efforts, but that wouldn't help herself. He felt sorry for Patriot, all of a sudden; he had to deal with this for years.
"Good luck, then."
Frostnova couldn't help but feel Andrey was somewhat… saddened at her proclamation. It didn't matter, she told herself; she knew what to do, and she would follow through with anything if necessary.
But then why did she suddenly feel a strange wave of sadness too?
Perhaps she could make a compromise. "I'll cast dangerous Arts only after asking you, then."
"Sure." Andrey was still frustrated, she could tell, but at least he was agreeing.
"How long have I been sleeping?"
"About a day, since the battle. Patriot believes you will be capable of moving again in a day."
"A day's… challenging." Pulling herself up, Frostnova stood up on unsteady feet; head touching the tip of the tent, hands grapsing the sides to stabilize herself. "But I'll manage."
"You're being stubborn again," Andrey said. "You can ask Patriot for an extra day."
"I –" Frostnova sighed. He wasn't wrong, and she didn't want to disappoint him with her stubbornness again. "Fine."
She quickly peeked out the tent. She squinted at the bright daylight striking her eyes, searching for Patriot before finding him studying the body of a wolf in the distance. "Father?"
"Yes?" Patriot turned and started walking back to the tent.
"I… may have to take two more days to rest."
She was surprised when the Wendigo simply nodded. "Very well. We will, depart, in the, morning, two days later."
Eventually, he added on:
"It is, fortunate, that you are, understanding, your limits."
So, he had been expecting this all along. "Understood, Father."
Frostnova retreated into the confines of her tent and lay back down in the floor. Even that short movement had caused her body to feel sore all over, like she had exercised her entire body at the same time, and she simply spread herself on the ground, motionless.
"Told you," Andrey said. "How are you feeling?"
"…tired. I cannot cast Arts anymore, for a week at least," Frostnova conceded. "After…"
"After, you should avoid casting Arts anyways. I may not have my Arts Codex, but I still understand that casting Arts worsens your Oripathy." And there he was, reminding her again.
"Yes, I understand." Frostnova replied in a long-suffering voice. "You sound like Patriot."
Andrey quieted down after that.
"Your memories. What do you remember?" Frostnova asked after a long silence.
"That's risky. We need to avoid waking the voice again."
"You could try to use your Arts to put me to sleep, then. I'd rather rest then waste this time" She suggested.
"And risk giving you a massive headache, knocking you into a coma, or outright killing you?"
"I won't die."
"But you're weakened. And you need to eat." Andrey replied almost immediately; hoping he could deter her from pressing the issue.
"You're being paranoid. And food can wait until later." No such luck. Andrey stopped, considering his options. Soon, he made his decision.
It was his turn to trust her. Casting his Arts, he sent a weak pulse of Arts to her mind.
"Mn…" Almost immediately, her eyes fluttered closed.
"Cute…" Andrey almost-uncontrollably noted. Immediately, he braced himself for a response from Frostnova.
Nothing.
What was she doing? Andrey attempted to check their surroundings again, only to find her eyes closed.
"…It worked?"
Frostnova woke with a groan, rolling over and opening the flaps of the tent. The sun was slowly lowering to the rest. Late afternoon, then. Quite some time. She wondered how Andrey was doing; he didn't exactly sleep, after all.
"Andrey?"
"Yes?" What sounded like a sleepy groan, then a cry of pain. "Agh… Arts aren't reliable."
"You tried to put yourself to sleep?"
"It worked… but not well. Now I have a massive headache. See, this is why I recommended you avoid using my Arts as a sleeping aid," Andrey groused.
"It worked on me. That's enough." Frostnova replied, ignoring Andrey's subsequent complaints. Standing up, she walked out the tent, pacing forwards and backwards slowly; testing her strength. Soon, she broke into a slow jog, and stretching to her full height, she inhaled a deep breath of chilly air–
–and collapsed in a fit of coughs, keeling over.
"Two days, correct. Oripathy, dangerous." Patriot said, simply standing vigil in the distance under a copse of trees.
"Yes, F –" and there it was again, Frostnova coughing and gasping for air as her lungs failed to work properly.
"Maybe consider avoiding exertion." Andrey advised.
"I've realized that." Frostnova stumbled back into her tent, offhandedly pulling the flaps closed as she sat down on the floor.
Soon, her stomach rumbled, reminding her of her hunger. "Time to eat, I suppose."
She wasn't looking forward to the prospect; stale, cold food was never very appetizing. But it would fill her up, at least.
The two days passed in a formless mix. Recovery was boring, worthless and all too simple. Nonetheless, it passed fast, and they were soon back on their way again.
Patriot marched forwards, shield clearing brambles and armored boots trampling grass and leaves as they passed through the sparse forest. The soft wood and flimsy stalks of grass were barely an impediment in face of the cold steel of Patriot's armor and shield as he marched forward, ever-resilient to the world.
The trees were growing sparser as they walked, the forest giving way to empty snow. Beneath them, the snow was a splotchy mess of even white and fading black, as if watery splashes of ink had rained down on the snow.
The corruption was fading. It was fortunate; Andrey wanted nothing to do with it anymore. Patriot: well, he was inscrutable as usual, but Andrey doubted he desired it either, with how frequently he had cast his shields around Frostnova's tent.
It had attracted no small share of trouble. By Andrey's count, a few dozen wolves had died by Patriot's hands while they rested there, the small groups making it easy for the Wendigo to handle.
Now, with the shield no longer necessary in the weaker corruption, he doubted the corrupted animals and warriors would chase them down now.
The forest grew sparser and sparser, inevitably giving way to the tundra. Again, Frostnova was faced with the familiar white snow, the corruption having been left long behind them.
They wouldn't have to touch it again; after they reached the altar and extracted Andrey, they could take the longer, much safer detour. It'd take an extra week or two, but she'd much rather take that then risk her sanity – and lives – with the shortcut.
Finally, she was feeling her body slowly return to normal, the coughing accompanying her Oripathy flare-ups slowly disappearing. Andrey still warned her against using her Arts, but it gave her some comfort to know that now, if necessary, at least she could.
Day after day of marching over flat, endless plains of snow, and they reached the next step in their trip.
The border of the Infy Icefield.
An endless expanse of ice faced her as Frostnova gazed out, perched on a hill as she looked at the eternally frozen ocean. Just a day or two now.
"We move." And with that signal, Patriot and Frostnova departed for the ice.
AN: And done! Totally didn't search "which direction does the sun set in" to write a scene. Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites so far!
To SirAlphonso: Yep, fighting corrupted corpses is a never-ending war. About the same as fighting the Seaborn, really, given these two are some of the main catastrophes facing Terra. Thanks for reviewing!