From atop the high walls of the Oirsennfiljakki city, Alice felt like she could see forever. The icy plains stretched out before her, smooth and nearly featureless. Below, the gates opened, and the teeming mass of people began to spill out. All told, there were over five hundred, those who would not or could not stay and fight – children, the elderly, and a handful of families. This was their only sure chance to escape the coming destruction. Taigona and some others who were familiar with the more southern lands would lead them to safety, wherever they might find it.
Alice knew the Sylvanian woman was displeased – to put it mildly – about being sent away, but she was the only one well-traveled enough to get them all where they needed to be. Alice sympathized with her; if she had been the one asked to lead this migration, she was not sure she would have agreed at all. But it was not so long ago that she would have been one of those fleeing refugees, unable to stand and fight when it came down to that.
She remembered all too well the feeling of helplessness as Lord Enguerrand’s men kidnapped her and Gidie used her to summon the monster called the Tarasque. After she was freed, Alice had vowed never to be helpless again. She had left the Lion Kingdom to learn to fight and prepare herself. Since joining Grazda’s mission, she had even begun to learn magic from Myst Erwiz. Alice was helpless no longer.
Except . . . weren’t they all? If the frost giants were as strong as everyone seemed to think, their whole army could very well be powerless against them. Alice had skills now, but she was far from a great warrior or a mighty wizard. And even the most powerful among them seemed terrified. They hid it well, but Alice recognized the look in their eyes, a look she herself once often had. All of them knew this coming battle would likely be the end.
Watching the last of the innocents disappear over the horizon, now no more than tiny specks in the distance, Alice thought about that. If this was the end, she would be prepared for it. If she was to face down the might of the frost giants, she would make sure she wouldn’t falter when the time came.
Her mind turned thus, it was not long before Alice found herself in an old practice yard, spear in hand. Though she had learned a great deal in her travels in the past few years, she thought she had learned far more here in the Frigid North than anywhere before.
Each of the peoples of the Frigid North upheld a great warrior tradition, as they must in this environment. And Alice had studied with each of them. From the Plith’mon, she had learned speed and agility, how see blows coming and dodge them, how to predict one’s opponents, and how to win a fight against a far stronger opponent. From the Akki, she had learned how to stand her ground, how to absorb a hit and keep fighting, how to continue when it felt like she had no strength left, and when to abandon all of that and retreat, saving her strength for a fight she could win. From the Adarcreote, she had learned how to unleash her rage to fuel herself in battle, how use adrenaline to her advantage but not let it overwhelm her rational mind, how to make her opponents fear her and believe she was stronger than she truly was, or to make them underestimate her, and when each was appropriate. From the Maruz, she had learned to fight as one with her allies, to make use of each person’s strengths and reduce the impact of their weaknesses, when to lead the group and when to follow, and how to use every advantage and trick she could take from her surroundings and her mind.
Alice channeled all of this into her practice, tearing through the flimsy, decaying training dummies. One by one, she took them down, a blur of speed, unshakeable, unstoppable, and always considering what she would have done differently if they had been real people, moving, fighting, thinking. As she dispatched one, she ducked low, imagining the one behind her taking a swing. She leapt up to meet it and knocked it to the ground, simultaneously raising her shield to guard against another imagined strike from the one on her left.
The ground was slippery here with ice. If she could make a stand and let them come after her, they might lose their footing and make easy targets. But if she moved too quickly or with just the wrong angles, she could easily fall as well. Better to move to the high ground, so she could see all of them at once. But if they had bows, would she not be too easy a target? She would have to charge, duck low and take them down. If she could secure a position, she could take a bow and eliminate the one in the corner. But that would leave her open to – no, no time. She’d spent too long thinking. In a real fight, she’d have been smashed by now. Alice charged, spear outstretched, only to slip backwards on the icy patch. Something caught her. She spun around –
From atop the high walls of the Oirsennfiljakki city, Alice felt like she could see forever. The icy plains stretched out before her, smooth and nearly featureless. Below, the gates opened, and the teeming mass of people began to spill out. All told, there were over five hundred, those who would not or could not stay and fight – children, the elderly, and a handful of families. This was their only sure chance to escape the coming destruction. Taigona and some others who were familiar with the more southern lands would lead them to safety, wherever they might find it.
Alice knew the Sylvanian woman was displeased – to put it mildly – about being sent away, but she was the only one well-traveled enough to get them all where they needed to be. Alice sympathized with her; if she had been the one asked to lead this migration, she was not sure she would have agreed at all. But it was not so long ago that she would have been one of those fleeing refugees, unable to stand and fight when it came down to that.
She remembered all too well the feeling of helplessness as Lord Enguerrand’s men kidnapped her and Gidie used her to summon the monster called the Tarasque. After she was freed, Alice had vowed never to be helpless again. She had left the Lion Kingdom to learn to fight and prepare herself. Since joining Grazda’s mission, she had even begun to learn magic from Myst Erwiz. Alice was helpless no longer.
Except . . . weren’t they all? If the frost giants were as strong as everyone seemed to think, their whole army could very well be powerless against them. Alice had skills now, but she was far from a great warrior or a mighty wizard. And even the most powerful among them seemed terrified. They hid it well, but Alice recognized the look in their eyes, a look she herself once often had. All of them knew this coming battle would likely be the end.
Watching the last of the innocents disappear over the horizon, now no more than tiny specks in the distance, Alice thought about that. If this was the end, she would be prepared for it. If she was to face down the might of the frost giants, she would make sure she wouldn’t falter when the time came.
Her mind turned thus, it was not long before Alice found herself in an old practice yard, spear in hand. Though she had learned a great deal in her travels in the past few years, she thought she had learned far more here in the Frigid North than anywhere before.
Each of the peoples of the Frigid North upheld a great warrior tradition, as they must in this environment. And Alice had studied with each of them. From the Plith’mon, she had learned speed and agility, how see blows coming and dodge them, how to predict one’s opponents, and how to win a fight against a far stronger opponent. From the Akki, she had learned how to stand her ground, how to absorb a hit and keep fighting, how to continue when it felt like she had no strength left, and when to abandon all of that and retreat, saving her strength for a fight she could win. From the Adarcreote, she had learned how to unleash her rage to fuel herself in battle, how use adrenaline to her advantage but not let it overwhelm her rational mind, how to make her opponents fear her and believe she was stronger than she truly was, or to make them underestimate her, and when each was appropriate. From the Maruz, she had learned to fight as one with her allies, to make use of each person’s strengths and reduce the impact of their weaknesses, when to lead the group and when to follow, and how to use every advantage and trick she could take from her surroundings and her mind.
Alice channeled all of this into her practice, tearing through the flimsy, decaying training dummies. One by one, she took them down, a blur of speed, unshakeable, unstoppable, and always considering what she would have done differently if they had been real people, moving, fighting, thinking. As she dispatched one, she ducked low, imagining the one behind her taking a swing. She leapt up to meet it and knocked it to the ground, simultaneously raising her shield to guard against another imagined strike from the one on her left.
The ground was slippery here with ice. If she could make a stand and let them come after her, they might lose their footing and make easy targets. But if she moved too quickly or with just the wrong angles, she could easily fall as well. Better to move to the high ground, so she could see all of them at once. But if they had bows, would she not be too easy a target? She would have to charge, duck low and take them down. If she could secure a position, she could take a bow and eliminate the one in the corner. But that would leave her open to – no, no time. She’d spent too long thinking. In a real fight, she’d have been smashed by now. Alice charged, spear outstretched, only to slip backwards on the icy patch. Something caught her. She spun around –
“Darthraxx.”
“Good morning, Lady Alice. I’m sorry for intruding; I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”
“Neither did I. And, it’s after noon.” Stepping closer, she could see heavy bags under his eyes. His face looked pale and worn. “Have you slept lately.”
“Not really. I’ve been preparing.” He nodded to their surroundings. “Just as you have. Only, I’ve been studying, trying to find some hidden piece of knowledge that will allow us to beat these frost giants.”
“Any luck?”
Darthraxx shook his head. “The only mentions I’ve been able to find of them have been in passing, footnotes in obscure legends, nothing real.”
“You should get some rest,” Alice said with a sigh. Darthraxx’s magic was one of their strongest assets; if he wasn’t up for fighting when the time came, that could make the difference.
“Perhaps you’re right. I came up here to clear my head, but . . . perhaps some sleep would be best.” In that moment, Alice was struck by how young the Dragonslayer looked. He had been, what, sixteen when he took the throne? And that hadn’t been so long ago.
Watching Darthraxx leave, Alice called after him. “Good luck with the research.”
“Good luck with your training.”
Alice turned back to the dummies, readying her spear. Darthraxx was right; the frost giants would be stronger than they were, so they had to find any advantage they could. They would probably lose, but if they did, Alice would go down fighting. Never helpless. Never again.
