Frostnova woke up with a dull headache, almost like her mind was being pressed down by a hundred-ton weight. Slowly, she crawled out of her tent, looking up. Almost morning: the sun was going up.
Quickly, she tucked herself back into the tent to avoid the worst of the elements.
"Good morning. Are you okay?" Andrey asked a few minutes later as she was readying for the day – strangely concerned.
"Headache… I'll be fine."
"Do you remember any of your dreams?" Dreams? She couldn't remember anything – heck, everything felt hazy today. Frostnova shook her head, as if to clear it from whatever was clogging it.
"No. Everything feels fuzzy," Frostnova said. "Was there something?"
"Last night, it managed to gain access to your dreams."
"It?"
"Ah, sorry. I was referring to the voice."
"What did it do?"
"Forced you into unpleasant memories. The time at the valley, the surrounding of the Yetis before that. It… felt like you saw me, for a moment."
In her mind, memory crystallized into a single still frame – of a young, brown-haired Caprinae, looking at her from high in the mountains with worried eyes. He was wearing an impeccable, featureless military uniform, shrouded by snow, yet behind it he was still flawless, still pure – almost like a work of art rather than a physical being.
She pulled at the invisible threads tying it to her memories – and almost as if an invisible dam had shattered, the "dream" returned to her.
Failure after failure. Running in the plains, desperate ambushes in the valleys, starving in the mountain. Far too many memories for such a short time.
Frostnova fell, catching herself – hands against snowy earth. Her headache returned full-force, dull weight morphing into sharp pulses of pain.
Broken promises, failed actions. Regret.
A teardrop fell upon the frozen dirt, quickly disappearing as she looked at the ground with wet eyes.
Another teardrop fell, fading just as fast. Not from pain – no, she had been through worse – but from regret.
It was all the truth. Perhaps it had been selected, picked; but it was still the truth, and still a painful reminder of her failures.
"I remember." She hoped Andrey wouldn't comment on how she undoubtedly sounded like – a trembling, quivering mess, even in her own mind.
"He wants to slow you down, to make you regret. Whatever happened… it's fine now, Frostnova." Yet again, he was reassuring her.
"No, it is not. But just give me some time. Bad memories are not enough to stop me."
"Call for me when you're ready," Andrey said, then left.
Andrey sat down on a ledge of ice, gazing out into the empty shadows. The world seemed quiet and empty, and time slowly passed as he waited.
Again, that peculiar wrongness slithered into his senses. Things were different, without the physical form he remembered he once had.
Everything was a confusing jumble now. They had been so simple just days ago – reach the valley, then guard it. Now he couldn't even trust himself.
Hopefully Patriot's Arts, or whatever that altar channeled, could work.
"Andrey?" She called, and he returned.
Patriot sat in front of the fire, again opposite to Frostnova. The ever-present mask still shrouded his face as he spoke:
"We are, taking shortcuts," he began. "We move, directly to altar."
"Why do you consider that a shortcut, Father?" The tears had long since dried, and Frostnova was back to her usual self.
"Sami-Ursus border." Patriot explained. "Dangerous corruption.
Black snow, rootless flowers, corrupted beasts. Wendigos fought them, before. Kept contained. Altar was built, to contain. It failed."
"How can the corruption be countered?" Immediately, Frostnova was thinking of strategies and tactics – or at least as many as she could against an unknown enemy.
"Conventional, attacks, kill physical form." Patriot chanted, and a swirl of energy wrapped itself around his halberd. "Wendigo Arts, banish corruption."
"Should we go then?"
"Yes. Make haste, before, your Andrey, is corrupted."
Frostnova knew that he meant nothing, but "your Andrey…" Quickly, she turned away from Patriot, and as he began marching on, she kept her distance. She hoped she wasn't blushing, or at least not visibly.
"Interesting choice of words, Patriot." Andrey thought out loud, out of curiosity – and perhaps something else.
"What words?" Frostnova quickly responded – too quickly, in fact.
"'Your Andrey.' Speaking of which, would you rather I be yours?"
A moment of bewildered silence. "Y-did I hear you correctly?"
"Getting flustered so easily could be dangerous in combat, Frostnova." Andrey said in a mock-serious tone. This was bringing out an entirely new side of him, and he wasn't exactly against it. "But yes, you did hear me correctly. Would you rather I be yours?"
Silence.
Maybe it was for the best that the next few days passed in near-total silence, giving Frostnova ample time to run through any potential scenarios in her mind.
Andrey was interesting – helpful and proper most of the time, yet often suddenly catching her off guard, with caring words or a sudden tease. She was torn between wanting him to stay proper, or wanting to get closer to him.
They traveled through the valleys and hills, covered with snow, and they crossed frozen rivers entirely consumed with ice. Patriot was quiet, as she had become accustomed to him being. The Orginium consuming his voice was no joke, and he saved his words when possible.
Over time, Andrey had begun joining her when she took her shift at the beginning of every night. His Arts were useful, if not directly powerful – capable of detecting any nearby minds, regardless of physical stealth.
She was somewhat worried about him. When he was left within the altar, would he remain forever? As much as he was infuriating her now, he was good help.
Soon, they had reached the border. A week, and they would be at the icefields, where the altar had been built. A strangely inconvenient position, but Frostnova assumed it had some purpose.
Patriot had spent no time hiding their tracks in the past week, and Frostnova was somewhat worried that they would get chased down. Patriot was trying to rush them forwards as rapidly as possible.
As they walked closer and closer to the border, Patriot stopped building fires as they passed, however; perhaps deeming them too obvious so close to any potential border guard. While Frostnova didn't mind the lack of heat, the inability to cook breakfast was an inconvenience.
Andrey kept with Frostnova as she moved forwards; Arts still active, keeping note of any minds he could sense approaching. The forest often had the occasional wolf pack, or bear; dangerous if threatened, but mostly harmless.
Frostnova crouched down for a moment, picking up a flake of snow and watching it in her hands. Pitch black.
"Father?" She called, and he turned to look at the speck resting on her hands – her Arts keeping the ice frozen and stable. "Could this be the black snow you referred to?"
A near-instant turn, and a quick step forward, the ground shaking under Patriot's feet as he picked up the flake of snow from her hands. A single look, and his shield was raised, halberd held at the ready as he cautiously looked at the surrounding trees. Andrey noticed that they had turned a darker, bleached shade – the change so gradual they hadn't seen it.
That was his job. He should have noticed earlier.
A presence appeared to the north – faint at first. It approached quickly, and Andrey only had a moment to confirm and realize the danger. "Wolves, east!"
Five wolves leaped out of the clearing, and Frostnova turned, quickly firing off a burst of ice. The wolf still rushed forwards, muscles straining and purple-black fur bristling with energy. Frostnova fired again, a spike of ice rushing forward – this time staggering the wolf for a moment, allowing her to run it through with a sharpened blade of ice. Panting for a moment, she dodged the next wolf as it rushed forwards, claws hissing through the air as it passed.
Patriot blocked a wolf with his shield, and as it attempted to claw through, he chanted yet another spell – blood-red chains breaking apart the wolf as the energy within it was forcibly ripped apart. Out of the corner of her eyes, Andrey could see the wolf's fur slowly reverting to its usual colors as the chains wrapped around it.
With a burst of focus, Andrey casted his Arts upon a wolf rushing forwards – the wolf collapsing for a moment, seemingly dead, before its eyes burned purple and it ran towards Frostnova again.
Andrey reached out again, attempting to assault the wolf a second time – only to find his Arts unready – and the wolf's primitive mind suddenly gone. He casted again, at another wolf running towards Patriot; the wolf mis-stepped slightly and kept running. These were far more dangerous than the usual wolf, far more durable and strangely quick. And more importantly to him, resistant to his Arts.
"Do not, get injured. Corruption." Patriot calmly stated as he plunged his halberd into another wolf that leapt at him, blood-red blade glowing with Arts as it cleansed the body. Patriot chanted again, and this time the wave of Arts that ensued made the wolves visibly step back – before with a renewed vigor, they rushed forwards again; the remaining two attacking Frostnova instead. The wave of Arts had purged the wolves, somewhat – the purple lights on the wolf Frostnova impaled now gone, and the other wolves visibly slowing down.
Again, Andrey launched his attack, and again, the wolf he targeted barely reacted.
Frostnova was no slouch, however, and twin ice spikes pierced the wolves, ending them. Another wave of Patriot's Arts, and the corruption disappeared alongside them – leaving the corpses of five gray wolves in the clearing. The snow beneath the wolves was slowly being stained red, adding some semblance of color to the snowy black forest.
"Corrupted beasts, dangerous. Injury will, corrupt. Difficult to, purge. Through altar, purging is possible, but soul, cannot be, reintroduced." Patriot slowly said. "We must leave, this forest."
They marched on – Frostnova sticking close to Patriot now, not risking injury if attacked out in the open. This corruption was dangerous, and it was apparent even Patriot failed to understand it fully.
She hoped she would not have to deal with it again after they passed this forest. Corruption, after all, was never limited to mere changing of beasts and nature; it always had a more insidious side.
They hurried forwards, leaving footsteps in the snow behind them. It didn't matter anymore. Nobody would be here before the next blizzard blew by and covered the snow, and Frostnova was thankful for that. Had they been hunted, they would have to spend double the time in this forest – and any extra second spent here risked their lives.
It was a small mercy that anyone without Patriot's knowledge and their strength could be easily overwhelmed by any variety of powerful beings, making pursuit unlikely.
Behind them, rootless flowers eternally bloomed, flat white petals almost invisible in the snow.
AN: This is some of the stuff mentioned in the author note for Chapter 12 – Collapsal influence. Almost all of the plot for these is from Integrated Strategies #4 and the event before that (currently only on CN), "Skógrinn Svartr Vill Einn Draumr". As always, feel free to leave a review if you have something to say!