Frostnova followed Patriot under the darkening sky, taking looks at the bonfire behind them, and the trail they were leaving behind. She'd much rather add her own efforts then solely rely on Andrey; they still did not know how accurate his Arts were, or if they could be avoided.
The mule walked alongside Patriot, further ahead; shivering ever so often, the forest proving colder than it could readily handle. Frostnova considered covering it with something, before giving up – whatever they covered the mule with would likely fall off and prove to be a hassle. Either way, the cart was getting lighter already; Patriot went through food at a frightening rate. Downsides of being a Wendigo, she supposed.
Frostnova drew her wand, inspecting it for damage. The wand was a simple affair, really; a long pole of Arts-conductive steel, built around an Originium core. She felt the soothing flow of her Arts flowing into the wand's core as she picked it up, the Originium channeling away some of the subzero temperatures and making her feel a fleeting spark of warmth.
As an Infected, she could cast her Arts without the wand, but that would be paramount to suicide in a protracted battle. It was fortunate – and necessary – that Patriot had provided her one.
As the sun sank and the shadows lengthened, the forest slowly melded together, becoming a featureless black canvas in the dark. Raising his left hand, Patriot stopped the two of them, tying the cart to a nearby tree before beginning to prepare the tents.
"This close?" The bonfire was barely an hour's walk away.
"Night scouts, rare." Patriot replied. "Especially with, this visibility."
He was right; Frostnova could barely make out the trees right in front of her, let alone the path they had come from. Worries assuaged, she sat down in the small clearing they had reached.
Dinner was simple, without a fire – some hard bread, and water. Frostnova reminded herself to melt some snow once they exited the range of the corruption; she was running out of water.
Taking first shift, she sat down on the frozen ground, staring at the empty forest. Without any light to go by, she could only rely on her hearing. The forest was an eerie quiet. None of the insects that were ever-present in the warmer forests, nor the calls of the wolves that should have been present in the tundra. The forest was almost like a machine, soundlessly maintaining a clean, efficient semblance of life.
Casting her Arts, she watched as the wisps of energy flew through the air, casting a weak wave of cold light on the forest. Below her feet, rootless flowers bloomed, ever-present throughout the corrupted forest.
While Frostnova kept watch, Andrey stayed with her, his Arts probing the environment around them. Turning his focus inwards, he casted a sliver of red light, the Arts flowing through Frostnova's wand and into the air. The wand: his Arts were using that as a focus, it appeared. His Arts would not harm Frostnova, then.
The thread of red light joined the white-blue strands, tinging the trees and snow a shade of red.
"Your Arts?" Frostnova asked, wand pointing towards the red thread.
"Yes. I was ensuring my Arts were flowing through your wand, rather than directly through your body."Andrey explained, keeping quiet as to not break the seeming silence they now had.
Frostnova nodded and said no more, simply watching the motes of light slowly fade away. Long shifts like these required patience, and a willingness to simply do nothing for hours on end. She had learned that long ago. Petrova – a small smile graced her lips at the memory – had not.
While building a snowman was indeed harmless to the rest of them, it was undoubtedly not "keeping watch." The Yeti on the next shift, Korva, had joined in on the fun, building another snowman. And then the next Yeti built another. And another. By dawn, they had a row of five snowmen, arranged neatly in a row.
She had split Petrova's shifts after that.
Korva… was dead now, she recalled, smile dropping. She had read the lists of the dead that they had compiled after every battle. It was her duty to do so. He had survived that first battle with the Army, on that forsaken hill, only to die in their ambush just days earlier. Just a statistic now, like so many other Yetis. Almost two hundred was too many to remember, and she could barely keep even just their names.
She let out a breath of frozen air, watching it disappear into the darkness.
That was not a happy line of thought, nor a productive one. Slowly tearing herself away, she focused back on the world around her – ears straining to hear anything that could distract her from her thoughts.
The night passed in almost-absolute silence, nothing but the sound of Frostnova shifting around as she waited. Patriot soon took her position. Frostnova was almost tempted to discuss her worries with him, but she knew that he cared little for them – the Wendigo having long since erased any doubts or fears of his own.
Soon, the morning came without much fanfare, and they were soon on their way again. Looking up, Frostnova saw the grey skies overhead slowly sliding past, like an endless film reel scrolling across the sky. Casting her Arts, Frostnova gauged the temperature – a minor storm was picking up, it seemed. Likely not a Catastrophe, but still dangerous.
The wind rushed at her, blowing her hair back and stinging her cheeks. Soundlessly, Patriot shifted in front of her, blocking the snow and ice, the mule shifting to behind him. Frostnova stepped back as they passed, and they kept walking, Patriot in front and Frostnova in the back alongside the cart. It was a small mercy that the trees blocked some of the snow, saving them from the worst of it.
As they walked forwards, the snow turned black beneath their feet – another sign of the corruption consuming the forest. The wind blew past, and Frostnova swore she could hear a whisper in the wind as they walked, speaking quiet words to her.
"Andrey?" She called out.
"Yes?"
"Do you hear… any voices?"
A long pause, Frostnova feeling a weak pulse of Arts traveling through her wand. "I hear nothing… and nobody is nearby."
Frostnova sighed. Perhaps she was just hallucinating it. Not unlikely, given the corruption, though worrying. Either way, Andrey seemed unaffected. She trusted him and Patriot to act, if necessary.
The wind worsened as they walked forwards, a hail of ice and snow now deterring them from further advancing. Slowing his advance, Patriot dug his shield into the snow and dirt. Understanding his message, Frostnova stopped and began preparing her tent – hammering in the spikes deep into the permafrost in an attempt to ensure their stability.
Behind her, Patriot did the same, tying the mule to his tent to keep it and the cart safe. No communication was needed, or possible. The blizzard was drowning out all sound.
The two soon retreated to their tents. Sitting down cross-legged in hers, Frostnova ran her hand along the heavy fabric, feeling the wind beat against it. She supposed they could have attempted to fight the storm, with her Arts and Patriot's shield acting as somewhat of a bulwark against the wind. But that would have been tiring and risky, and the corrupted forest held unknown dangers. Nature was not to be resisted, sometimes.
"Frostnova." A voice came from outside the tent, familiar and all too warm. Frostnova peeked outside the tent, getting a faceful of snow for her efforts; and finding nothing. She… remembered that voice. It had been so long since she had heard it, that she had forgotten who it came from.
"Frostnova, do you still have that amulet I gave you? Keep it. It will bring you good luck, I'm sure." Again, that voice. She was feeling a growing familiarity to it, and a long-forgotten happiness.
Frostnova walked out of the tent and to the cart, shuffling through her possessions – in search of that keepsake, from so long ago. Finding it, she returned to her cart. Her mind seemed unclear, like it was attempting to catch up to her conscious actions, yet it seemed… right, somehow.
"Come outside. We're waiting." Again, that familiar voice – her mother! Her eyes grew blurry with tears as she walked out, absentmindedly activating her Arts to form a shield of ice around her.
Almost as if something had changed, she suddenly stopped, for a moment. Why would they be here?
It lasted for all of a second before she threw caution to the wind, walking forwards. In the distance, she saw a duo of blurry shadows, made near-invisible by the blizzard. She walked forwards, doggedly walking towards them.
For a moment, she almost saw their smiles, before again the snow hid them. It had been so long since she had last seen them, ever since their parting in the mines. Her father, always reliable, always sharing what little gruel he had with her; her mother, always loving, happy despite all that had happened.
In their eyes, the world seemed like a mere puzzle to solve, and anything could have been possible. Frostnova determinedly walked forwards, spurred on by her memories; if they could do anything, they why couldn't she?
They were so close now, just a few dozen steps. Frostnova pondered, for a split second, why they were still so formless. She supposed it was the blizzard, worsening again. Renewing her Arts, she took the last few steps forwards…
Andrey looked on worriedly as Frostnova walked into the blizzard, avoiding the scattered rocks and bushes on the ground as she walked. She seemed to know what she was doing, if her Arts were any indication, but he saw no reason to simply charge forwards without any reason.
"Frostnova? Is there any reason you are walking into the blizzard?"
He waited, counting the seconds. Ten, twenty, thirty. No response.
"Frostnova? Can you hear me?"
He counted again. Five, ten, fifteen. No response.
"Frostnova?"
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five. Nothing. Activating the full force of his Arts, he tried to wrest Frostnova's control away from her. Yet he found resistance, almost as if she was holding on for some reason.
Just as she was about to touch them, to finally collapse into their embrace, a force attempted to rip her apart, to undo her just before she finally found peace.
No. She could not have this. She clung to herself, keeping herself whole, while taking another step forwards, then another – increasingly slowed by the blizzard.
Andrey retreated into her mindscape, keeping his Arts active. He should have expected this, when she had mentioned the whispers. Rushing to Frostnova, he was unsurprised to find chains of black encircling her. Activating his Arts again, he severed the shadows, watching as they slowly retreated.
Suddenly, they rushed forwards again. Andrey focused his power on repelling them again, watching as they pulled back. And just as fast, the shadows encroached on her once more.
Just another step… and then the world suddenly shook.
Like the world had been cleared of a suffocating smog, Frostnova suddenly awoke from her pleasant dream, the cold blizzard shocking her to readiness. Immediately, her mind took stock of her surroundings. Blizzard… had she been sleepwalking? That was worrying.
Turning, she was surprised to find her body weak, almost falling over from the mere exertion. It was almost as she had overused her Arts, again – yet she found it unlikely that she would have done so in her sleep. Looking to her right, she found the last vestiges of a shield of ice. So, she had used her Arts…
"Walk forwards. The tent is in that direction." Andrey said quickly, voice strained.
"Mhm." Frostnova took one staggering step forwards, then another. Ice cracked around her, and the shield that had protected her from the blizzard finally broke. The gust of wind staggered her for a moment, before she regained her balance – walking back again.
Andrey watched as Frostnova parted the flaps of her tent, before tying them shut. He gazed at the last vestiges of shadows still tainting the ice, pulling forwards another wave of Arts – finally pushing away the corrupted power.
He spared another look at the darkness beyond the spires of ice, before laying down in the empty snow. He was tired now, far more then he had ever been since his awakening.
Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.
AN: I'm quite happy with this chapter. Researching IS#4 for it was frustrating, but it was worth it. Feel free to leave any reviews if you have anything to say. Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows (yay, 75) so far!