Heart of Winter

The march to the gate was the shortest journey I'd ever been on, taking all of five minutes on Fable's back. The rest of the army took a little longer, about an hour between preparing to march and the last squad arriving. The terrain surrounding our destination was more of the same rolling hills and small peaks caught fast in the grip of winter, with sprawling pine forests and light undergrowth. 

The Gate was enormous, rivaling the Fire Gate I accidentally called outside Bluegate Keep. The massive vortex of energy was alive with frosty white and blue, emitting the distinct mana signature of ice demons. It was a relatively young gate, the bottom hovering a good twenty feet above the nearest hill and, by all estimates, still a few weeks away from breaking.

"Not bad," Korra muttered, eyeing the gate appreciatively. "I've never been inside a sixth-level gate before."

I glanced at her, my tail twitching in surprise. "Really? I thought they were commonplace now."