Florette IX: The Cold

That bastard.

“What do you mean you won’t do anything? This is Fernan Montaigne, the guy who completely saved your ass! Levian might have moved on, but he’s going to die out there if we don’t rescue him.”

The Fox-King glowered, all of his amiability from their sword training completely absent. “Do you have a boat, Florette? I had six, and all of them have been sunk. I have a battle line I can barely keep together long enough to avoid Glaciel’s entire army pouring out of the castle before—”

Another of Levian’s waves swept across the island’s surface, throwing both of them to the ground. The cold water wasn’t there long, but it was long enough to seep into clothes, to penetrate otherwise-warm boots and ruin them with wet socks. Florette’s jacket was thick enough to not be rendered immediately useless, as were the Fox-King’s and those of several of his knights, but most people would be even more miserable now, if they hadn’t just been swept away to their doom.

The Torrent of the Deep had not deigned to leave his domain in his efforts to aid Glaciel. And apparently, he didn’t need to.

Renart sprung into action as soon as the wave had passed, calling several of his builders to renew their focus on the wooden platforms, building them higher, embedding them more firmly into the ground.

“He’s going to die out there!” she shouted, feeling the seconds tick by. It wouldn’t be long now before Glaciel’s toe melted away entirely, all of her efforts useless. Corro’s paranoia and care had still been insufficient to account for Levian’s arrival, and now that could mean the ruination of everything. Even the final backup plan seemed unlikely to work if Glaciel weren’t unbalanced, if there were no artifact to help get things into position. “It’s the first thing you learn in a mountain winter. The cold seeps in, and your skin gets nibbled away bit by bit as it freezes off. It makes you numb, confused. People get found naked because they stripped their clothes off in a blizzard.”

“Fernan’s not the only person in the water.” Renart stared at her incredulously, gesturing to the dozens of remaining warriors scrambling to recover. “And he’s a flame sage. The last one remaining on this battlefield, in fact. He’s better equipped than most.”

“He’s burning energy every second. How long before he’s down to harvesting his own life? How long before it runs out?” If he’s even conscious enough to do it. “I have to perform this ritual right away, or everything Corro put into this will have been for nothing.” Dealing with Magnifico will have been for nothing. “Just send someone to grab him.”

“No. There’s no one I can spare on a suicide mission. Anyone sent into that water isn't going to make it ten feet before they freeze to death. We just have to hope he’s still alive once all of this is over. Then we’ll find him, I promise.”

“You fu—” Florette bit her tongue. “Useless.” She turned and ran, nearly tripping on the slick ice once more. How did we dump so much sand and still cover so narrow a path? Levian probably hadn’t helped on that front, admittedly.

“Did you find someone?” Mara asked when Florette returned to the water’s edge, still sizzling from a recent wave. “I wish I could just cross the water myself.”

“I know you can’t. It’s fine.” One of the first things I learned about you, even. “I’ll just have to go myself.”

And Glaciel’s toe? The binding?

“Mara, when the waves crash down, and you warm it up so fast it turns to steam, are you doing that on purpose? Or does it happen without you thinking about it?”

How many times have I wished I stopped to think, to take the measured course over the impulsive one?

The gecko tilted her head. “It just happens. I’m sure Fernan’s doing that too. I can see that he’s not moving, but he’s warm like he’s alive.”

“Okay.” Florette took a deep breath. Wait a second, that must be how Camille survived. Didn’t she say she was down there for days? How much longer does she have to live? That wasn’t important, though. Not even slightly, with everything going on.

“Okay,” she repeated, holding the cheap iron ring in one hand and the rapidly-disintegrating toe from Glaciel in the other, currently about the size of a single die. And it falls to me to cast it.

Forgive me, Fernan.

“Toe of Glaciel, I claim your power.” Florette held it firm in her right fist, willing its essence out of the shard of the ice spirit and up into her arm, remembering Magnifico’s instructions. First, draw the power into yourself. If you want to avoid dying horribly, keep it far away from your heart and your mind. Speaking the words wasn't necessary, but a helpful crutch for beginners. And somehow I’m ever the amateur.

She felt the power flow through her, cold and evil and stunning, intoxicating. It wasn’t hard to see how Lumiére had gotten himself killed. Now, down. The idea was to curve, avoiding her heart so it could pass through her other arm and into the ring.

Nothing was happening in her left arm, though. Glaciel’s energy was flowing downward too far, too fast.

Whatever. I’m not performing here. Florette dropped the ring onto the ice below, then pressed her foot down against it.

The pull towards the earth spirit made it easier, somehow, like everything was flowing back into place. Perhaps it was just eager to be reunited with the ice. Not that it will be. “Be sealed within this ring,” she muttered, willing it to be true. “Be bound, forever more, trapped within until all your power fades away.”

She clenched her fists, expelling the last of Glaciel’s power from her, then inhaled once more.

It’s done. She lifted her foot, then bent down to pick up the ring.

It felt cold to the touch, but not unnaturally so, simply a metal ring exposed to the elements. It gleamed a pale blue color, though, a reflection of its source.

And there’s no time to waste.

Already running, Florette slipped the Ring of Glaciel onto her pinky finger. Resting against her skin, the chill was anything but comfortable. Surprise, surprise. But as soon as the ring was in place, her hand drained of warmth to match, taking on a pale blue color.

Just wearing it felt uncomfortable, but at least it didn’t burn in the way cold metal so often did. Perhaps because my entire hand is already bereft of sensation. Still, nothing else for it but to continue on.

She’d already wasted an unconscionable amount of time.

Every artifact is different, the royal monster had said, but each follows in the function of their source. Eulus for wind and lightning, Gemel for duality, Khali for the ultimate mastery over darkness itself.

And ice beats water, right? That seemed intuitive enough. Even if it was a small fraction of the power, over which she had no mastery at all, against an unfathomably ancient and unknowable monster of the deep.

Florette reached the water’s edge and plunged her hand downward, willing the ring to do something, calling its power forth with her mind as she had with the Cloak of Nocturne.

Her fingers were slower to move, stiff, encrusted with crystals, but still she managed to curl them inwards within the water, closing her hand around a newly created ball of ice.

At least it did something; she hadn’t messed up the binding entirely. But still, a chunk of ice versus the Torrent of the Deep?

“Where’s Fernan?” she asked Mara, since between the blizzard above and the darkness beyond, the water stretching outwards was entirely opaque.

“There!” Mara whipped her neck about three quarters to the left. “His flame is fading.”

“No time to waste, then,” Florette muttered guiltily, stripping off her winter jacket and diving into the frigid water.

Khali’s curse, that’s cold as a pirate when you have nothing she wants. Her entire body tensed at the touch of it, all the worse once her hair became soaked. Only the one hand remained as it had, no better or worse, though the ice accumulating in it made keeping a steady swimming form prohibitively difficult.

“You’re drifting!” Mara called from the shore, blasting a line of light to her left to indicate the correct path.

Of course I am. Of course the fucking thing she’d wasted precious time to make was worse than useless here.

It’s unforgivable, is what it is, Florette thought as she removed the ring. Her hand went numb the instant it was gone, nearly making her drop it into the endless deep, but her other hand managed to grasp it before her grip slipped, then slid it into a pocket on her trousers. At least swimming went more smoothly after that, though it was still so hard to see that Mara had to play spotter several more times.

Was it hard to tell which way to go, or just hard to swim straight? There’d been the streams back home, and bathing in Malin… It had seemed so much… easier, then. Am I fucking uncoordinated too now? Really? It was so unfair, but she forced herself to focus.

Every moment carried a risk of Levian turning his attention away from the beleaguered soldiers and towards her or Fernan. Shit, there’s a good chance this ring sticks out to his sight the way it does to Mara’s, brimming with spiritual energy. Once again, worse than useless.

Half a year ago, I’d never have hesitated like this, damned myself with doubt. Her breaths grew heavier each time she surfaced for air, straining to keep her teeth from chattering lest an open mouth let any water in. I’m not swimming so far… Why is this so exhausting?

By the time she reached Fernan, it was hard to imagine having the strength to carry him back.

His body was warm to the touch, floating unconscious with his head towards the sky. Mara had said she’d be able to tell if he’d died, that she knew he was still too warm, but…

His eyes were empty, vacant holes of darkness absent any flame, any recognition.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Florette wrapped Fernan's arms around her shoulders, feeling a tightening of his grip so slight she might have been imagining it, and began to swim forward.

The flame within him radiated out, warding every point where he touched her from the worst of the cold. Several times, a wave knocked her off-course, but Mara was ready each time to guide her back towards the shore.

Despite that bastard Lucien’s best efforts. Why couldn’t a nice spirit ever try to kill everyone? It wasn’t like they didn’t exist. There was Corro, and the Fallen, and… probably others. Lamante looked cool at least, but it was hard to tell what she really wanted. And Jethro was annoying, but he’d stolen one of Camille’s earrings, which made him at least a little bit alright.

It felt like it took a hundred times as long to get half as far, even with Mara’s light so much easier to see. Just swim towards it, stupid. This is too easy for even you to mess up.

It was sort of fitting, though. Lucien was the spirit of water, and he was a total jerk. And Camille was his sage, and she was super mean too. And her uncle, whose name couldn’t easily be recalled; he wasn't any better.

I wonder if there’s some stunning but horrible sage Glaciel has back in Hiverre, bossing people around and lying and getting mad at them for being less evil than she is. Glaciel probably had children for that, though.

“Over here, Florette!” Mara called out between jets of flame, even though it was super obvious where she was and all Florette needed to do was swim in a straight line.

“I know that!” she called back, though she only made it about halfway through the sentence before her mouth filled with freezing water. She spat it out as best she could, but the chill still trickled down her throat.

Wait, is it even freezing water though? Wouldn’t that just be ice? Words could be so strange sometimes.

Florette wasn’t exactly sure when she reached the island, but she felt her hand bump against it with a thud. It didn’t hurt much, at least.

Mara helped pull Fernan free with her mouth and onto the ice just in time for another of Levian’s waves to wash over all of them, punishing her for her terrible decision. That’s always me, shooting that girl, stabbing the governor, following her.

“They’re getting faster,” Mara hissed, shaking herself free as steam wafted up from her skin.

“Moving faster as they go, or there’s less time between them?” Florette asked, hauling herself up the edge of the island. Somehow the surface was even colder, air biting through even the slightest adjustments her body had made to the water.

“Less time. Does it matter?”

“That means…” She felt her head nodding forward, tendrils of her own hair piercing her scalp on Glaciel’s frigid orders. “It’s more frequent… Not faster… I was just talking about this with you, words are funny…”

“Florette? Are you ok?”

“I’m… fine. It’s just so cold… I need…” She blinked, trying to keep focused. “What do I need, Mara?”

“I… I don’t know. You’re acting really strange. When my brother Teo wandered too far into the cold, Gézarde helped get him going again. Do humans have someone they go to for that? ”

“Their wife,” Florette said, and laughed. “But I’m going to die alone. And Fernan’s sleeping! I need to sleep too. It’s so late, it’s been night for like a thousand hours.” She stuck her hand out towards him, but it didn’t reach. Useless again, Florette. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the Ring of Ice Queen. Why do my fingers look so grey? One of her nails had even come off in the water, though she thankfully hadn’t felt it. That’s the last thing I’d need right now.

They were so clumsy, too, numb enough that the ring slipped out the moment she pulled it from her pocket. It tumbled from her hands, but instead of bouncing on the ice below, it slid across the ice, twirling in a perfect circle, unnaturally smooth. “Did you see that, Mara?”

The poor gecko didn’t understand the importance at all. She completely ignored the ring! “I’m going to try to warm you up, Florette. Don’t fall asleep. Just stand still and try not to get burned.”

“Of course I’ll get burned,” she muttered, resting her head against the soft ground. “You play in the fire, can’t complain if you get burned. That’s my whole life.” Her eyes closed. “It’s about time, really…”

She managed to rest her eyes in Mara’s warmth for a few minutes before another wave swept across the ice towards them.

Wait…

Florette jumped for the ring, closing her fist around it just before the water reached them.

For a brief instant under the water spirit’s assault, everything was horrible again, but Mara’s exhalation helped calm things down again. Holding the ring helped to center her too, to focus on why she was doing this.

“Fucking Luci—Levian, I mean.” Florette shook herself, shivering. “Has to ruin everything.”

“We need to get you and Fernan back to the shore.” Mara’s words carried warmth, glorious warmth. “Once you’re warm enough to move, we’ll head back to the wall.”

Florette shook her head. “Take Fernan. Get him in front of a fire so he’s not burning his own power. I need to duel Glaciel.” I need to… She glanced down at the ring in her hand, surrounded by skin of frostbitten grey.

If I’d been faster, maybe there’d have been enough time to get more power out of her. She scowled. If I hadn’t wasted my time with the Fox-King, thinking he might care about the person who’s saved his fucking life twice.

Experimentally, she slipped the ring back on, once again causing her hand to take on a pale blue pallor, seemingly unaffected by the frostbite.

She removed it again, only to find her fingertips still looking awfully grey. Better than before though, if I’m not imagining it. It wouldn’t hurt to do a pass over everything later, at any rate.

There was Michel, and Corro, and the plan. There was…

The Ring of Glaciel, gliding across the ice.

I’m an idiot.

Florette ripped her boot off, stripping off the wet sock right after.

“Oh right, you can molt away the wet skin to warm up faster! I should have thought of that!”

At least there was a lot less frostbite on her toes. Apparently her boots had still accomplished something.

Florette gave it a slight nod, then slipped the ring onto one of her toes.

The cold swept across it once more, pallor shifting to match the ice beneath it. And when she took a step forward…

“Wow!”

Florette slid smoothly across the ice, in no danger of losing her balance. She kicked off with one boot to propel herself forward again, and managed a faster slide, more evenly distributing her weight.

“Take Fernan back,” she repeated, bending down to pick up her thankfully-warmed-and-dried jacket. “I’ll cover you if Levian or Glaciel try to start anything.”

Mara hesitated, then nodded her head. “Stay safe.”

When do I ever? “I will.”

Florette drew her sword, then pushed herself into another slide, sword forward. There was still a spirit of ice to defeat, after all, and even a plan that might just make it possible.

It’s the least I owe Fernan. With any luck, he’d wake tomorrow to news of Gézarde’s acclaim and Glaciel’s downfall, positioning the scaly prick to beat out the far worse Flammare.

Levian’s arrival had been catastrophic, but the night wasn’t over yet.

Stepping out of range of Mara’s comforting warmth was anything but pleasant, but she’d done her job and then some.

Now it’s time for me to do mine.