Halorax Strongforge trudged out into the wilderness beyond Everwinter. There were miles of agricultural fields and grazing grounds. Mammoths, woolly rhinos, and reindeer roamed the plains, but that didn’t concern him. Not now. He had much more important things to do.

What Halorax sought was escape. Escape was long overdue. He never really fit in at Everwinter anyway. No, Hal was always a little bit different. Too tough. Strong, like his ancestral name.

Everwinter, in contrast, was run by traditionally-minded frost mages who believed in some form of botched pacifism. They maintained an iron grip on the student body, and Hal was always pushing the boundaries.

Boundaries that needed to be pushed, in his mind.

Still, he never pushed too hard. A little rough and tumble every now and then was acceptable in the Masters’ mind. It kept things real. Gritty.

Violence was not condoned nor was fighting, but having a father who owned the most important and wealthiest industry in Hailstone meant something in spite of what anyone said.

But now that was all over. He had been beaten. Tamed. By some foreign scum who didn’t even belong in Frosthaven. A man who had been invited in, welcomed in by the Quartus himself. Who in the Five did this Quartus think he was? Letting in foreigners.

In a way, Frostilicus wasn’t Hal’s real enemy. Frost would one day die, certainly. Rabid dogs needed to be put down. But their masters were the real culprits. The actual guilty ones.

And that was why, Hal decided, Quartus needed to die.

It was a long time coming. It was said that the death of this Quartus, this king of Frosthaven, would presage the beginning of a new era. An era run by the Quintus, a king of the Fifth Age of the world. A Quintus who, if prophecies were accurate, belonged to the Sylax Clan.

His mother’s clan.

Halorax was half Sylax, hence his name. His father was Halforne Strongforge, famed forger of Hailstone, who had wedded Mylax Wunderkind, third daughter of the Sylax chieftain Marmax. All Sylax appended their names the same way—with an “ax.” Just like the clan’s name itself. Just like Halorax himself.

It had always been a hope of his father, Halforne, that Halorax would one day become that successor to the throne of Frosthaven. It was the very reason he had even married Mylax. Hal did not always approve of his father’s ways but Hal did hold an enviable position because of them. He was the most enviable claimant to the throne of Frosthaven, with thousand-year-old prophecies backing him.

The destruction of the Sylax clan at the hands of Flintlock was a terrible thing. He would never revel in the death of his kinsmen, even kinsment he barely knew. But, in a way, it strengthened his hand tremendously. Not only was he wealthy and powerful, but his blood heritage made him a possible contender to the throne.

A blood heritage that Quartus indignantly denied.

Of course he would, Hal had always thought. Quartus did not want to see the Strongforge family rise to even greater power. Hal, like his father, believed that Frosthaven needed to rebuild its military might. To retake its place in the world as a dominant power. That was what was meant by the Fifth Age. It would be an age where Frosthaven reasserted itself on the world stage. And Halorax could be the leader to do just that.

The recent incursion by the Flintlock only made that case even stronger. The Flintlock were taking power on the world stage while Frosthaven sat back and did nothing. The most powerful nation in the world sat back twiddling its thumbs happy to let the rest of the world enjoy their idle freedom.

All because it wasn’t the frost mage way — whatever that meant.

Quartus had been carefully playing the political game to restrict the power growth of the Strongforge family. As king, he had many privileges that even the wealthiest industrialists did not. He redirected purchases to independent blacksmitheries, restricted political access, and even increased levies on forged items produced within Hailstone keep. It was a hidden, political agenda.

But this most recent ploy pushed things too far.

Hal strongly suspected that Quartus had sent Frostilicus to Everwinter to eliminate him.

It was strange that Everwinter University would welcome a foreigner with open arms. The admittance of a foreign student only happened every few years and even then, it was usually for exceptionally wealthy children of foreign emissaries. To welcome one upon the king’s request was simply unheard of, especially one with no money to his name.

In a way, it was the perfect ploy. Halorax had a known penchant for roughing up new students and a strong distaste for foreigners. It would be expected that Halorax would engage Frostilicus.

All Quartus had to do was plant a student who was a trained assassin and then wait.

Halorax stepped right into the bear trap—Quartus’ deadly, hidden trap. Frostilicus hadn’t held back either. Indeed, Frost had tried to kill him. That spear was aimed for his heart.

Had Halorax died, he would have died in disgrace. A student with a violent instinct killed by his own violent inclinations. That wasn’t the frost mage way. He would be written off, an example of why Everwinter should continue to promote pacifist inclinations.

Hal shook his head. How could he have been so stupid. He had underestimated Quartus. Vastly underestimated him.

He’d never suspected the old man would be so bold as to send a trained assassin into a university. And yet it made perfect sense. It would end the Strongforge claim on the throne in the single thrust of a frost spear.

Quartus would no doubt rationalize such an action because it would minimize violence in the long-run. Killing Halorax, in Quartus’ mind, would save the country and the world future bouts of war.

It was only blind luck that Halorax even survived.

Halorax didn’t die, but he didn’t come out unscathed either. Not only would he be seriously shamed by the loss to a foreigner, his missing arm would make him a useless forger. It also seemed that he'd lost his ability to frost form properly. Why that had occurred he wasn't sure. He'd seen other physically disabled frost mages use their powers perfectly fine but for some reason he couldn't.

The reason didn't matter. What did matter was that it was a slight on the family honor. Hal couldn’t be sure his father would even want him to rise to power at this point. A one-armed fool with no frost powers would only become the family laughingstock.

Hanging his head, Hal sighed deeply. It would be a long walk back to Hailstone. Even when he arrived, he’d planned to travel incognito. That would be hard to do with one arm, but he’d find a way. Even if had to dress as a beggar.

Suddenly, he jerked his head. Someone was following him. He squinted his eyes, clutching a dagger tied to his belt. Not that he’d be able to wield it properly with his non-dominant arm, but it was better than nothing.

A portly figure half-ran while huffing and puffing, toward Halorax. His stride was awkward and his face was red. Halorax recognized him from a mile away.

Glomulus Gallbladder.

“Wait,” Glom called from a hundred yards back. The stroll was obviously taxing on him.

“You?” Halorax said. “Glom, what are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” Glomulus. “I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Halorax said, straightening his back. “You can’t give up your place at Everwinter. Your family will disown you.”

“And yours?” Glom said with deep breaths following his question.

Hal paused for a moment, and then said, “It’s over for me, Glom. I’ve got nothing else to live for. Only one thing left for me.”

“I never really liked Everwinter,” Glomulus said. “More of a city guy myself. If you’re leaving, I am as well.”

Hal raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d figured Glom and Grub had followed him because of his considerable influence and power. Being friends with Hal afforded them certain privileges others would never see. He’d never suspected that they would actually like him for him.

“It will be rough,” Hal said. “And thankless. I’m after revenge, Glom. Revenge pure and simple.”

“Revenge?” Glom said, clenching his jaws. He rubbed his hands together readily. “I can get on board with that. Beats studying.”

“Where’s your brother?” Hal said. “Grubbery.”

“Oh Grub,” Glomulus said. “We parted ways. He wanted to stay at Everwinter and graduate. Me, I was different. I said we should leave and join you. Grub said to forget you, that you were done. Finished. But I didn’t agree.”

“He may have been right,” Hal said. “I don’t see a bright future for myself. In fact, I think it will be very dark.”

Glomulus looked hesitant. “Dark how? What is it that you’re going to do?”

“Do?” Hal said, lips curling upward. “Why Glomulus, I’m not sure you really want to know.”

Glom looked back questioningly. “Tell me.”

Halorax paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. Quartus had stealthily doled out the ultimate punishment. Hal would return the favor.

“Why I’m going to kill the king,” Halorax said.