The mines were only a day away from the valley, and it wasn't long before they became visible.
First, the Yetis saw the cloud of smoke in the sky, countless fires sending Originium-laced ash and dust into the air – the plume slowly rising and dissipating with the wind.
Then they saw the fires themselves, burning bright around the mines; unimpeded by snow or ice, simply melting and burning through all the scattered buildings that once housed Infected Patrol.
Around the burning exterior of the mine, Patriot's forces were stationed. The outer walls lay on the ground, long since knocked down – the charred wood panels no longer offering any protection to the defenders.
The Infected Patrol were nowhere to be seen, having retreated into the tunnels that formed the mine itself.
The doors to the mine hastily blocked with wood scraps as a flimsy last-ditch attempt to keep the Guerillas out. Undoubtedly, the Infected Patrol were hiding behind it; but that barricade could be easily set alight, and Frostnova doubted the Patrol had easy access to water to put it out.
"He's taking his time." Andrey noted. "Waiting for us, probably. Waiting for the ambush to cut down some of the military presence in the region."
"Yes. He could be burning down that wood at any time." Frostnova added, walking forwards – careful, small steps, yet steady and vigilant all the same.
She was wounded but could still fight – or at least that was what she had told the Yetis. Much to her dismay, they didn't believe it. Patriot had taught them well – too well, in fact.
As they approached, a trio of Guerillas split off from the mass of grey tents and uniforms that was Patriot's main camp, walking over to the Yetis.
Their leader recoiled in shock for a moment as they got closer. They were in a dismal state. Just eight Yetis didn't make for much of an army, after all.
Walking to the back of the group, the leading Guerilla gave her a quick salute that just seemed a bit… forced. "Ambush successful?"
Frostnova gave a curt nod. "Against seventy-five Army troops."
The neutral looks on their faces quickly gave way to surprise, and then shock.
A long moment passed, nobody saying anything. Then the Guerilla gestured towards the direction of the camp – quickly, as if making up for his earlier surprise. "Patriot's camp is that way. He will need a report."
Then they walked away, seemingly trusting Patriot to pass judgement on the Yetis.
"This may take some explaining." Andrey said.
"Patriot will understand." Frostnova reassured. "This was his mistake, underestimating the enemy forces. Speaking of the battle, what did you feel, during it?"
"Feel?"
"Emotions."
"None that I can recall. I felt as if I'd seen it many times before… even if I couldn't recall it. You'd have to ask the other me, but he's not very cooperative."
"If you call knocking us out in combat uncooperative, and not outright attempted murder." Frostnova groused. Unlike everything else, it wasn't as if she could simply kill it. "What did he say?"
"'Learn, and I awaken.' He's getting louder, more powerful."
"So we're dealing with an arrogant nobleman capable of using mind-altering Arts."
"Likely. But without learning about myself, I cannot combat him. Yet the more I learn about him, the more powerful he grows. This is very dangerous."
"We should ask Patriot. He's more likely to try and kill both of you, but it's a start." Frostnova picked up her pace slightly as she talked, keeping with the other Yetis.
"That sounds risky. Do I have a choice?"
"I'm doing the walking, not you." She could sense him sulking, but at least he wasn't complaining.
After yet another long period of walking, Frostnova reached the tents of the Guerillas, walking to the entrance and quietly opening the flaps. Bending over slightly, she walked into the tent. She would never understand how Patriot got in, what with the entrance being shorter than even her.
Her tired body sent another wave of agony through her, and she slowed her movements, entering the opening with care. Patriot was already waiting for her, gargantuan form simply standing in the center of the tent, shield and halberd ready. His once-pristine grey-black armor was now chipped and broken at places, his steel halberd growing spotty with rust; yet he still exuded that indomitable presence, towering tall over Frostnova as she stood before him.
"Report." A single word was spoken, distorted by his Oripathy-infected larynx.
"Confronted seventy to eighty Ursus Army troops. Used a false ambush to draw enemies into a trap, which successfully eliminated all enemies. Lost forty-two Yetis." A small shift at the mention of the losses, then a long moment as Patriot processed the information.
"My mistake. Underestimated opponent." Patriot simply stated after a long wait. "Continue."
"Three lightly wounded Yetis remaining, myself included. Five fully combat-ready. We can begin to regather forces."
"No." Patriot walked a step forwards, towering over Frostnova. "You understate. Your safety, is important. Return to, main force."
"I assume he means that you are understating the extent of your injuries?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Frostnova gave Patriot a quick nod.
Suddenly, Patriot turned, as if seeing some invisible force.
He thumped his halberd against the ground, a quick chant releasing a twisting stream of red towards Frostnova.
"Father?" Her body stuck in place from shock and fatigue, the Arts struck home.
Andrey felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, almost as if his skin had been ripped away.
"Agh!" Pulling back into Frostnova's mindscape, he lashed out at the tendril of red rushing towards him – Patriot's darker, blood-red Arts being beaten back by a blast of his vibrant red.
He should have expected Patriot would jump to conclusions after finding him in his daughter's mind. Quickly, he rushed back to Frostnova's side, reentering reality.
"Foreign Arts." Patriot gestured towards the small fragment of bright-red tendrils his Arts had captured. "Explain."
"Andrey?"
"Yes, that was me. Ouch." The pain had mostly faded by now, just a sharp sting.
For a moment, for the first time in years, Frostnova was lost for words, this situation so unfamiliar she could do nothing but stand there, frozen in place.
"Mind Arts." The Arts flew to Patriot's gloves, and he slowly watched them – his Arts splitting them apart, breaking them into smaller and smaller multicolored pieces.
The fragments slowly faded into nothingness as they spun in the air. "Amateur Arts, not hidden."
"Erm… Patriot, yes?" Andrey's voice quietly reached both of them as Andrey tapped into his newly learned Arts. "Sorry for scaring you."
Patriot spun around with a burst of agility, trying to find the source of the voice when there was none.
"Explain." His voice came back to Andrey and Frostnova – Andrey's Arts allowing them them to discuss telepathically.
"I woke up in her mind about a week ago. I've been helping her since. Your Arts… could you avoid doing that again? That was painful."
"I will do far worse to you if you harm her." A powerful, authoritative voice reached Andrey – without his Oripathy in the way, Patriot could finally speak freely.
"He hasn't." Frostnova added quickly.
"I understand. He is weak, can barely use any Arts. Cannot even hide his own." Patriot said with no small note of derision.
"I learned them yesterday. That would be expected."
"Explain the past week, then." The realization of his weakness seemed to have allowed Patriot to trust him, at least somewhat – after all, that meant he was no threat. But there was still a certain wariness in tone, and the assurance of sure death if he did anything out of order.
"After I woke, I often received flashbacks and knowledge from… my past, I believe. Most recently, this was Arts. Before, cooking and military knowledge. Most recently, some of my knowledge has been accompanied by red Arts rather than flashbacks… These have been affecting Frostnova too." Andrey reluctantly admitted.
"Another presence."
"That is awakening, yes."
Patrot thumped his halberd on the ground again, as if for emphasis. "I cannot sense their Arts. They are dangerous, then. We must make haste."
"For what?"
"To the far north, ancient Wendigos built a powerful altar to capture souls. We must reach it in time. You are too dangerous. When you face your past… Frostnova must be safe from the effects."
"Patriot. Do not interfere."A fourth voice broke through, Andrey shocked for a moment by another wave of Arts – Frostnova also falling to the ground.
"This soon?" He struggled out, trying his hardest to combat the voice's influence with his Arts. He was fighting a losing battle – knowledgeable as he was now, he didn't have the experience to back himself up.
"Arrogant monster." Patriot's voice almost doubled in response, a heavy weight on Andrey's mind and Arts. And with another guttural chant, and another blast of Arts struck Frostnova. Yet this time Andrey felt no pain, the Arts tunneling within him rather than striking him – and ripping something out.
"Very well."A flash and a groan of pain, and then it was gone, Andrey able to breathe freely again.
"Now you see. You are being corrupted." Patriot paused for a moment, before continuing. "Frostnova, call Skar. Tell him he is to defeat the Patrol in the week and travel to the second rendezvous point. I will return within a month. We travel to the north, now."
"Understood, Father." This time, it was Frostnova who spoke as she rushed out of the tent, no longer caring about the agony digging into her like sharp thorns.
Soon, she reached Skar's tent.
"Skar?" She called out.
The squad leader walked out, giving her a respectful nod and a small smile. "Frostnova. What is it?"
"Patriot is going further north with me to investigate my condition. You will be acting commander, and Patriot expects you to eliminate the Patrol within a week and reach Rendezvous Two before he returns." It was close enough to the truth.
Skar nodded – not at all fazed, calm even in the face of such sudden change. "Understood. Time?"
"Patriot and I will return within a month."
"Good enough. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Frostnova began sprinting back even as the pain returned – she didn't want to disappoint Patriot, even if it meant risking her own health.
As she stopped back at the tent, she fell to the ground – breathing heavily as she lay on the ground, pain coursing through her.
Above her, Patriot stood, cart ready beside him.
"You are not lightly wounded."
"I can walk."Frostnova slowly got up, walking forwards a few steps as if to demonstrate that to him.
Andrey chipped in too. "You are definitely not lightly wounded. And you can barely walk."
Frostnova just sighed. This was going to be a long trip.
AN: Quick chapter again. Having extra time is great. Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and follows so far! Honestly, I'm surprised by how many people like this story. As always, feel free to leave a review if you want to say something!