Frosty

((Book 1 if this is your first time here: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF

Book 3's finished version: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CK72L912))

Nyt makes me a bowl of the stew as well, and fishes out a loaf of bread she had swiped from god knows where. It was mostly stale, and hard to the touch, but, dipped in the warm stew, it was the most delicious thing in the world. The broth of the stew was hearty, and chunks of caught fish and some alien vegetables that tasted like a mix between onions and potatoes. It got a bit of getting used to, but getting something solid, and warm in my stomach really lifted my mood; even if we did eat in the same room where the body of a half goat, half human hung on the wall not ten feet from us.

After the pot is finished, we wait until the sun sets, and the food to settle in our stomachs and we can move in darkness.

"So; why is magic in your world so...well, nonexistent?"

"Most people can't use it." I say, "And most assume it's a myth. Same with spirits, gods, and the like."

"Really? So religion doesn't really exist in your world?"

"No. There's a couple of dominant religions; Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and Buddhism, I think are the largest."

"Really? What are they about?"

I shrug.

"I don't really know. I didn't believe in that stuff either before everything began."

"How long has the invasion been going on?"

"Hmm...two months?"

"Two months? Really? That's it?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Hm...how do I say? The connection to your world and Efra feels stronger than it should be."

"No. Just since December 22nd."

"December is the name of the 12th month?"

I nod.

"And we're currently in the second month?"

I nod.

"So your years are 12-month years?"

I nod again.

"Interesting. We have 13-month years."

Ah. I had a question about something that had been eating at the back of my mind for a while, and since we were talking about our worlds…

"So, when the first few days, while I went into Efra, the sun never moved, and then on the third or fourth day, it started to move again. Why is that?"

Nyt taps her claws to the table as she soaks up a bit of stew left at the bottom of the pot with a hunk of bread.

"When fall becomes winter, or when spring becomes summer there's days before, during, and after known as the Still. For summer, the sun stays set for three days, and for winter it stays risen for three days."

"Why is that?"

"According to myth, it's Lio, the sun goddess, and Ulr, the moon god, bidding farewell to the world as their relative domain ends."

"Their domains being the length of day/night?"

Nyt nods.

"How about Earth? Does it have anything like that?"

I think for a moment.

"Oh, on the equinoxes at noon, you can balance an egg really easily."

A bit of silence falls between us before a round of rousing laughter bursts from both of us. First from her, and then, when I realized how ridiculous that comparison was, from me.

"Balance an egg? Really?" She says, wiping a tear forming at the corner of her eye.

It was good to laugh. How long had it been since I last laughed like that? It feels like years. Once the laughter died down, the light bleeding in from the outside died down enough that we were comfortable moving. By then, the commotion outside down toward the port had also significantly subsided. Nyt presses her pointed ear against the door, nods, and pushes through, and I follow after, glancing down toward the port.

In the distance; through the light of the last bit of sun bleeding in through the fogwall, I can make out something that I hadn't seen before, but had theorized dozens of times; the fogwall sliced apart, and parted like a curtain as the distant white-capped sails of three of the five galleons that sat at the port sailing west.

"Where are they heading?" I ask.

"That direction? Probably to join the White One's main forces."

"That direction is the land you came from?"

Nyt nods, and we watch the ships dipping in and out of the tides and vanishing in the distance. I tear my gaze away from it and to the distant mountains, where the cave that Seth was currently residing in was. There were fewer creatures here than I thought. For such a high-level dive, it was practically sparse. No archers stood watch on top of these roofs, and no patrols walked along the cobblestone streets. Down at the port, I could make out the distant outlines of creatures running through the ports, and heading down toward the remainder of the ships moored there. Perhaps they'll be gone by the time we find Seth, so we'll only have to worry about the Godbeast. That'd be a great change.

I slip into Shadow's form as we approach the mountains going over the rooftops. Very little resistance met us on the way to the cave; and what resistance there was, died quickly to an Earthen Spike. Nyt hid the bodies by pulling them on top of buildings or stuffing them into tall patches of grass.

The stone hovels zip by, and thin out the further up the slope we climb, until all that is left is the cold gray of solid stone as we scramble up the side of a boulder wall, or climb up through the remains of long-dead waterfalls, until, at last, we came to the very edge of the dive; pressed against the last half mile or so up to the peaks where the giant statues stood resolute.

Bored into one of the walls in the corner of the dive, we found the remains of the old mine shaft. On the way here, we only had to kill about a dozen creatures. If it continues like this, level 80 would be the easiest dive I've ever done. I remember the first dive I've ever done; the apparent level 1 that turned out to be a level 5. I wonder if this one is the same. Perhaps this was elevated a few levels as well. I think back on the corrupted godbeast dive; the one with where Monica, William, and I ran into the White One. That was only a level 30, right? How much more difficult could another godbeast be?

My mind turns to spells; what spells would work best against something like that: the godbeasts I've come across so far; the feathered serpents and the glass eagle, were both airborne, right? If trends follow…I lift up my wrist.

"Can I purchase a new skill?"

Yes. You have a few points in reserve.

"Good, can I see the Wind magic section?"

In that order, the part of the Shard that broke off into a screen reshapes into an elongated rectangle. The spells that I have already unlocked glow a bright blue. Below; Dervish there was the skill Billow. It was something that I was familiar with; a spell that Monica had gotten when she first learned the identity of her Patron; the sylph Ariel. I had asked her if it was the mermaid when I first heard the name, but she assured me it wasn't. She told me it was from a play called The Tempest from Shakespeare; I bought it on Audible that day and finished listening to it a couple of days later. How would Billow work with me? From what I understood, Monica had to draw in breath for her to work, and she didn't have to incant. It was also extremely powerful; enough so to knock that large bird creature out of its path. I press my finger on that, and it glows up.

The words of the incantation flow into my mind, and I grow more concerned. The last time I recited an incantation like this without any preparation I nearly killed myself by welding my throat shut. I'll try the spell out the next time we come in contact with an enemy.

The air grew colder as the two of us went down. The little bit of conversation we had going on the way over here faded as we entered the cave and I spoke to my Shard. My breath began to come out in white puffs as the temperature continued to drop. White stained the walls about twenty feet down from the mouth of the cave, I run my fingers over it, and pull away quickly; a bit of the flesh sticking to it as I do so.

"Ice?"

I suppose it made sense. The mountains were still snow-capped, after all. The further we go down, the colder it got. When the last of the light bleeding in through the cave mouth faded, I cast Cat Eyes, and continue downward. Another ten feet, and we come across the first body.

A satyr with a long, bloody streak cleaving through a mail jerkin and shattering the clavicle of the creature. It was stiff as if it had been in this position for a while now. I bend down and run my finger through the blood; rather than congealed and scabbed over, it was frozen. Was this made by Seth, or something/someone else? Laura hadn't mentioned her husband being a Chosen; perhaps she was wary of me? Or perhaps she didn't know. More than likely, however, it was an Efran. Perhaps an apostle like Fen. We step over the dead creature and continue downward. Mana begins to swirl around Nyt as she readies herself for something. I make sure to do the same; cycling the earth mana through my body just in case I had to act quickly.

We come across the next body not long after. Rather, a pair of them; both satyrs. One was slumped against the wall; its head cleaved clean in two. The other was close by; its head, in fact, lay on the goat legs of the first. A single stab wound went up its gut and into its heart. Once more, the blood is frozen.

The bodies increase in number from there, and by the time we near the end of the tunnel, we're practically walking over the bodies. At the very end, half of the mouth of the tunnel leading into the underground cave is blocked off by the body of a minotaur; frozen solid with thick, white-blue frost. Chunks of satyrs lay on the ground at its feet in a pile of frost and snow.

I catch the quick glint of something to my right and quickly raise an Earthen Spike to intercept. A silvery white blade slices through the compact stone and a blast of cold washes over me.

"Who-"

Another slash over my head, I duck and the blade crashes into the wall by my head. Frost spreads out from the sparks emitted from the collision.

"Breathe through me, oh thou airy daughters of the wind."

I point my staff forward. The wind mana flowing through me pulls towards my lungs, and I feel them nearly burst until I push it toward my arms, and out my staff. A pillar of wind howls forth from the tip of my staff and slams into the chest of the man; sending him spinning backward and crashing to the ground.

He slashes up with his blade, and a trail of ice follows his movement and captures my leg as he pushes himself up.

"You one of them cult bastards?"

"No. Are you Seth?"

He swung his blade and pressed it against my throat.

"Who's asking?"

I shift my foot so that the ice broke and I could plant it on solid ground, and raise a spike from the ground to press against his throat. Nyt plucks a hair from her arm, and a light flashes as a black bow forms with a single arrow. She presses the arrow against the man's temple and scowls.

"Laura asked me to come look for you."

"Laura?" The blade left my throat and left with it a lingering chill, "Are she and the kids safe?"

"Yes. I killed the cultists who were living in your home."

A look of relief washes over the man's face as his blade leaves my throat. I allow the spike to crumble to the ground, and Nyt lowers her bow.

"Thank gods…" he utters, "Thank god…"

Seth sheathes his sword and extends his hand.

"Seth Raureif." He says. "A chosen of Ullr."