Andrey studied the researchers as they walked through the tundra, subtly jumping between them with his Arts. Fredrich quietly observed the landscape as he walked alongside Anne, his Arts still ever-present around them; Ben and Levina walked ahead of the group, keeping watch.
Andrey watched the landscape as they walked, trying his best to connect it to anything he had seen before. No luck. Either his memory had failed him, or they were walking an entirely different path.
"See anything interesting?" Anne asked Fredrich.
"It's empty. No Arts." Fredrich replied in a bored monotone.
"I didn't mean your Arts, idiot." Anne lightly smacked him on the shoulder. Fredrich almost flinched, hand instinctively reaching down for something.
"You mean what I see?" Fredrich replied.
"Yep. What else?"
"There's not much to see."
"Come on, don't be boring."
"But…" Fredrich started.
"Hurry up, you two." Ben called from ahead of them.
Anne and Fredrich quickened their footsteps, soon catching up to their team members.
A faint presence made itself known near the borders of Andrey's Arts, slowly approaching – followed by another, then another. Wolves, likely; a common hazard. Andrey probed at one of them, looking through its vision for a moment.
A stray pack of dogs? Interesting… likely from some contingent of Infected Patrol.
"Ten dogs, Ursus Army. No handler." Levina reported, eyes focused on the group as they crossed the horizon.
"Well, that's bad." Ben commented. "Those things are vicious."
Out of nowhere, Levina pulled out a short dagger.
Andrey would have raised his eyebrows, if he had them. What would a researcher do with – oh, and there it went. The dagger flew into the distance, tracing out a meandering path through the tundra – a blue trail of Arts behind it. The dogs seemed blissfully unaware, still slowly walking through the landscape.
Then the dagger embedded itself within the lead dog's eye.
A small spurt of blood shot out.
It collapsed, muscles suddenly going limp.
And as it disappeared from Andrey's Arts, the dogs they sharply turned to face the researchers – rushing down the hill in a full sprint and slowly forming a rough wedge-shaped formation.
The dagger chased behind the dogs, eventually finding another target. It embedded itself into the back of a dog's neck, and Andrey could have sworn he heard a sharp crack – before abruptly changing direction and flying back into Levina's hands.
Sending the Arts-powered dagger flying back, Levina made a quiet 'tch' of annoyance as her dagger missed; splitting apart a few stray strands of fur, but nothing more. "Too fast."
"Seriously?" Ben sighed. "Now they won't give up until we're dead, or they are."
"Perhaps you should have mentioned that earlier." Fredrich said, gripping a wand.
They seemed strangely nonchalant about this mess.
Levina's dagger came back for another run, striking down another dog; and then another, leaving a sparse trail of bloody corpses on the ground.
Four dead, in the span of about half a minute.
"Impressive." Andrey passively noted, watching as Anne and Ben stepped back, behind Fredrich and Levina.
Fredrich raised his wand – and again there was that feeling, of a thousand eyes watching – before an array of red needles impaled another dog.
It was… rather gory, Andrey would admit. And overkill.
Fredrich pointed his wand at his next target, again summoning a swarm of needles – before bringing them down and turning the dog into a pincushion.
Levina's dagger flew out again, taking two dogs with it: quick stabs, a trail of blue dancing behind the blade.
A dog made one final leap forwards, rushing in midair towards Levina; she met it head-on, stabbing it under the neck before kicking it away; her white hood and mask stained red by its blood.
Nine kills. Where was the tenth?
Andrey fired off a pulse of Arts, scanning the wilderness around them; and finding it behind Ben, slowly stalking forwards.
Without thinking, he killed it, an invisible thread of Arts striking it; its body going limp. Just for good measure, Andrey fired off another pulse of Arts, confirming that its mind had disappeared.
Ben turned around, finding the dog splayed on the dirt mere meters from him – letting out a strangely high-pitched squeal of surprise.
"Huh?" Anne turned to look at Ben, finding him slowly stepping away from the dead dog behind him – and breaking down into a laughing fit.
Once she recovered, she walked over to the dog, tapping it with her foot, before again turning to Ben. "It's dead, idiot."
"That –" Ben said, staying well away from the dog – "does not look dead."
"If it were alive, it would have reacted." Anne walked over and kicked the corpse, rolling it over. "See? Dead."
"Huh…" Ben turned away, averting his eyes.
"How'd it die anyway?" Anne said, drawing the attention of Fredrich. "Heart attack?"
"Maybe." Fredrich turned away a moment later, as if it were unimportant. His expression may have been inscrutable to the others, hidden away by his mask –
But Andrey didn't miss how his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Leaving the bloody field behind, the researchers kept trekking forwards. Levina was cleaning her dagger with a cloth as she walked, her mask already clear of red save for a few persistent stains. Fredrich was simply walking forwards, Arts still flowing in the background; and Anne and Ben were chatting behind him.
"I hope I'm getting hazard pay for this." Ben chuckled. "Then again, you two deserve it more than I do."
"That's not my decision." Levina replied, eyes focused on her dagger. "Though I feel it is unlikely."
"Yeah. Higher-ups, right?" Ben lengthened his stride and caught up to Levina. "Then again, why'd you have to start this in the first place?"
"They were a threat. Simply killing them when they are unaware risks less than keeping them alive." Levina paused, thinking. "Though they were more dangerous than expected."
"That's an understatement." Andrey internally snarked. Heck, he had to intervene to save Ben.
"Yeah, you can say that again." Ben said, before the group again settled into a peaceful silence, only the steady sounds of their footsteps around them.
Deciding he'd had his share of excitement for the day, Andrey retreated into his crystal. Perhaps he could build a rough map of their route and get an idea of where they were going.
Frostnova had no idea where she was going. She knew she was following the trail of footsteps left behind by these… travelers, or whatever they were. And she knew she was going south, or something like that.
Either way, the trail was solid enough, and she slowly jogged forwards along it, exhaling breaths of cold air as she ran. Good pace. She looked up at the sun – about noon. Her stomach grumbled quietly, but she didn't stop.
The trail was growing clearer by the minute, the imprints in the snow looking as if they were carved into the snow by some massive tool – edges so sharp it felt as if Frostnova could cut herself on them.
Experience told her that at her usual pace, she could catch up within a day or two. But this strange upwelling of emotion within her heart compelled her to just keep pushing herself forwards, to reach him as soon as possible.
Her muscles were beginning to grow sore from the constant running, but still she kept jogging forwards.
The idea that these past weeks were nothing but a hallucination wormed itself into Frostnova mind. She quashed it without a second thought; she refused to believe that she was chasing ghosts.
If she was, though… and there it was again.
"I should think about something else." Turning her head to look around her, Frostnova searched the distance. She needed something to distract herself.
"We've got snow, snow and more snow, huh?" Andrey's words echoed in her mind. Yes, that was better. Frostnova thought back to the last time they had talked, oh so long ago. Then, the first time they met, and her confused shock when his voice first touched her.
Then… oh, she was getting a bit distracted. Frostnova picked up her pace again.
Warmth slowly spreading through her, she continued to close the distance to him.
Again, the wind ruffled her hair, blasting a steady stream of snow against her face; the miniature particles bouncing off and disappearing into the distance.
Frostnova had lit a torch with much difficulty, keeping it away from her Arts as she trudged forward. The sky had turned almost pitch-black, only a meagre glint of silver light coming from the twin moons above her.
"Steady steps…" She reminded herself as she kept walking forwards. Even as defined as they were, the footsteps were difficult to see in the wavering light, but she made do.
Frostnova brushed away the thin film of snow that had formed on her face almost absentmindedly, feeling the skin underneath numb and cold to the touch. As usual, if somewhat colder.
Forming an ice shield around her, Frostnova exhaled a breath of air, feeling the winds part around her. They were getting worse, though still easily navigable.
An hour later, Frostnova retracted that judgement. The winds had grown to a veritable blizzard now, one which Frostnova was woefully unprepared for. Sure, she was almost immune to the cold. Sure, she had her Arts faithfully protecting her from the winds. But there was no rest for now, lest the winds blow her over.
Perhaps splitting off from the Yetis had been a bad choice. Petrova was probably sitting in the communal tent, telling stories right now, while Frostnova stood out in the open, pursuing a seemingly endless path of footsteps.
Wait, the footsteps!
They would be gone soon, covered with a thick layer of snow.
Frostnova pushed herself even harder. She was on a timer now, and a woefully strict one at that.
Already, they were disappearing from her sight.
She crested a hill and rushed back down, breaking out into a run. Her shield crackled and fell apart around her as a gust of wind broke through; pushing her back a step before she reactivated her Arts.
Her feet sunk into the snow, breaking apart the smooth layers; stamping her presence in the earth. The darkness around her seemed endless, only the scarce light her torch could produce saving her from it.
The ground began to slope up again, and Frostnova slowed down slightly, careful of any missteps as she began trekking upwards. Another hill, no doubt. Pushing out another wave of Arts, Frostnova felt the crackling of her shield stop for a second as it was renewed.
The surface beneath her felt as if it was getting steeper; Frostnova kept trudging up. It couldn't be far, now.
Her feet touched a rock, and for a split second it felt as if she was falling. Her hands loosened on reflex, stretching out in search of anything to grab onto – and then she was upright again.
Looking behind her, she saw her torch slowly rolling down the hill, bouncing along the snow before coming to a stop. The light flickered as it slowly died, and utter darkness consumed her.
Fuck.
Feeling in front of her, Frostnova stopped at what felt like the top of the hill.
Searching in her pockets, she sighed. Nothing flammable left; not that she could start a fire, in such a blizzard.
Curling up into a ball, Frostnova lay down on the ground and closed her eyes.
A few teardrops slid down her face, freezing on the ground below.
AN: Well, this took far longer than I expected. Mostly because I had a ton of stuff to do. And now I'm sick, so the next chapter might take 2-3 weeks too. I feel like I'm getting worse at maintaining my consistency. Either way, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. And don't worry, Andrey and Frostnova will get reunited. Eventually.