Glacien Reach really did live up to its name. Chills flooded Kavik's senses nonstop as he studied his surroundings.
After being dragged away by the guards, he was hit in the face with a mass of ice which knocked him out, only to be wake up on the barren outskirts of Glacien Reach. A layer of snow was all that stretched over visible miles, no doubt leading to more and more snowy regions.
"Hello?" Kavik was greeted by nothing but howling winds and his own echo.
"Hello?!"
Still no response.
Kavik knew he was properly lost.
In Ruinhold, he'd always wished to tour the empire. To Osnyr, to Glacien Reach, to Serpent's Hollow. But never in his wildest imagination would he have thought he'd be this stranded.
He trudged through the snowy hills, walking for miles as he embraced his arms for warmth, regretting everything; committing suicide, being alive. Why was he even spared by the Goddess when he clearly wished to die?!
After walking for what felt like hours, he sat down under a dead tree, thin eyes scanning the stretched landscape for anything that could help him. He was suddenly missing Ruinhold. At least, he had a roof over his head and clothes to prevent cold; and food.
But he also suffered there. Memories of his brothers tormenting him surfaced for a moment and Kavik shook them off, convincing himself that he was better off dead or lost—anywhere away from them.
He began to walk again, hastening his steps as he saw heat rise from the chimney of a small building.
He picked up the pace, running towards the building that appeared to be more of a bar for travelers. Sally's Tavern, it read.
"Very well then," Kavik rushed in, and the smell of cider and beer hit him square in the gut.
Kavik looked around to see men chattering in circles, some cackling at a joke, all with armors and swords.
They're Ruinhold soldiers, Kavik thought. But what would they be doing far north of the empire?
Kavik decided it was best to avoid them as memories of his past surfaced back, his cries for help echoing in his head and his father's disappointing words resounding again.
Everyone in the tavern was gigantic in comparison to a small, timid Kavik. This intimidated him, along with the stale smell of sweat and cider, so he decided it was best to keep to the shadows.
He quietly approached a man who wore a scornful look on. Judging by the cups in his hands, Kavik concluded he was the waiter.
"Hello," Kavik said softly.
"No, I don't help orphans, I don't need more hands and, no you can't scrub nor serve," the waiter responded automatically without sparing him much of a glance.
"What?" Kavik was confused.
"I've seen tons of misplaced orphans like you who come here to seek help." He shot Kavik a glance as he spoke harshly. "They always want the same thing—a roof and my food in exchange for some menial labor, and I'm telling you I'm not offering any of that!"
The harshness cut deep into Kavik's heart, as it contradicted what he heard about the people of Glacien Reach (they'd been described as sweet and kind). The word 'orphan' rang in his head, reminding him of the people who'd failed him. His family wasn't even dead, and yet he'd felt so orphaned, as the waiter called him.
"I don't need that, actually," Kavik responded.
"Oh." The waiter seemed rather surprised. "Out with it then."
"I was going to ask… what way is it to the Grey Barrens?"
The waiter seemed stunned for a second, and then burst into a fit of raucous laughter as he pointed mockingly at Kavik.
"Men!" The waiter called out to his customers as he laughed. "We have a child"—the waiter spat like it's a slur—"who wishes to go to the Barrens. Isn't that exciting?"
The customers, including the Ruinhold soldiers, all joined the waiter and laughed, making nasty gestures at Kavik.
"Look, lad," the waiter began once he stopped laughing. "The Grey Barrens is a death wish. Many have journeyed there to never be found again. Why would you wanna go there?"
Kavik maintained his innocence, although his hands began to shake slightly in his balled fist.
"Answer us, boy." An intimidatingly large soldier walked over to Kavik's side and grabbed him by the scruff roughly. "Or I'll feed you to the wolves."
"I…" Kavik stuttered. "I…unc…"
"What nonsense are you on about?"
"Hold on!" The waiter interrupted, staring at Kavik with wide, keen eyes as though he's profiling him.
"You don't have any of the Great Houses' sigils, so you must be worthless enough to be cast aside." He studied Kavik, pulling him roughly by the arm.
"Yet despite your ragged clothes, I can tell you're one of the Elders' students, judging by your blue tunic. So, why are you out here far away from the Capital? Were you Severed?"
Kavik's heart began racing in his chest, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The waiter loomed over him, a dirty smirk on his face which Kavik didn't like.
He looked utterly sinister and it terrified Kavik greatly.
"This one was Severed. Now tell us why. Did you kill someone?" The waiter didn't stop probing. "Or people? One? Two? Ten?"
"Just let me go." Kavik was already trembling. "Please."
"Not so fast, traitor." The waiter spat, landing a slap on Kavik's face. "The Elders reign in the Capital, parading their students and successors all around the Reach and how they're the model citizens. While we the lower class have to work, suffer and pay tax to fatten their own families and students. Why should we let you go when you're one of them?"
The slap stung Kavik's face so hard that tears welled to his eyes. The heat on his cheek was so intense his fair skin reddened.
The waiter's face twisted into something horrifying with hatred. At that moment, Kavik prayed and begged the goddess to save him or set him free from the men's grip.
The soldiers unsheathed their swords and decided to 'play with him'. Usually, it'd be declared an act of war. But he was virtually no one, not sworn to any province or house in the empire—his death would be game and nothing.
"You're already Severed so they won't save you, lad."
A vague feeling of rage flickered through him for a moment and it was gone. Kavik couldn't explain what he felt, but he heard voices in his head.
'Reach out, boy,' the voice said invitingly. 'She won't save you. But I can.'
Kavik thought he'd run mad. Then the elders words hit him clearer than during his trial.
Phantom Flame.
'You have power, boy. Wield it!"
Seed of King Zod.
'I've always been here boy,' the voice said again, persuasively, this time. 'Say it.'
Phantom-Marked.
He wasn't powerless. He could Wield the Phantom Flame. And so, he reached out.
'Save me.'
"What's that in his hands?" A soldier gasped as he pointed at his hands, but he was too late.
Purple flames exploded from his hands with violent fury. Kavik felt like he was falling from the sky. The feeling brought him a thrilling high. Flames licked his veins with an uncontrollable intensity that he began to scream, yet it felt good. In fact, nothing so explicitly abominable had ever felt so thrilling.
'Yes! Chaos!' The voice screamed.
The Phantom Flame didn't just burn in Kavik's palms—it felt like his blood had turned into something more: heavier and hotter with fury.
The next thing Kavik saw was a blinding light that exploded behind his eyelids into stars as he passed out. The flame was terrifying to wield, but for the first time since Ruinhold, Kavik hadn't felt any cold.
*******
Kavik woke up to a surprisingly soft surface, and the thick smell of old books and herbs. He tried opening his eyes; but they felt heavy.
Various thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to remember how he got there. Memories began to return to his head in bits.
Sally's Tavern. Chaos. Save me, King Zod.
A purple flame that exploded from his hands.
The Phantom Flame.
Kavik bolted from the bed like he woke up from a nightmare, eyes dimly scanning the room he was in, and the soft bed he had slept on. An array of shelves filled with books lined the walls, as well as other shelves filled with jars.
The wind howled outside the window which was very small and permitted only little streams of light in. Kavik couldn't guess much where he was or how he ended up there, but he knew he must've been captured and he had no way out.
He walked straight out of bed and landed adjacent to a vanity on the wall. He stared at a reflection of him in the mirror and he was awestruck. He had a flawless skin, malnourished and devoid of color as it looked. His hair and eyes were brown, featuring an oval face that looked oddly pale with cold and hunger. He felt strikingly handsome.
It was the first time he'd seen himself ever since his Testing where he was thrown into the cauldron with hopes that he'd Wield. He shook those thoughts off, moving his arms to be sure he wasn't seeing things.
His ribs were awfully visible from his chest, while his pale skin was marked with red lashes and cuts which Kavik guessed were before the trial. And yet, the sight of his entire body in one piece gave him joy.
Kavik stared at himself for a long time that he began to feel repulsive.
Why was he so thin?
Why was his skin so scarred?
I look amazing, he thought. I look repulsive, he corrected.
Kavik walked away from the vanity angrily and moved towards the door after hearing hushed conversations and footsteps. He pressed his ear against the door and a gruff, weary voice was the first he heard.
"You're sure about this?" The first voice asked keenly.
He seemed to be in a conversation with someone else.
"Yes, Daron. The child wielded the Phantom Flame in my presence." The second voice responded.
Kavik couldn't conceal his rage after realizing someone from the Sally Tavern had gotten out. Did he bring him here? Was he in another trouble? Kavik couldn't help the million questions that raced through his mind. He began to look around for anything that could help his escape his new captivity.
The room went pensively silent for a moment until a third voice spoke up. "So what do you intend to do with the boy, Daron? Are you going to kill him? Or send him to Ilyana?"
"He's a potent weapon, Alaric, why would Daron want to kill him?" The other speaker fired back immediately.
"Well, we can't let him walk around for too long now, can we? Potent as he is, it's only a matter of time before he becomes a threat to himself and those around him when Zod's Web begins to take root!" Alaric responded, his voice firm.
Fear gripped Kavik from the room.
He'd read about Zod's Web from the history books he'd used to pass time in Ruinhold.
Wielding the Phantom Flame came with a price: purplish veins that spread from the fingertips before consuming the entire skin, making its Wielder appear ghostly and rotten to people. It was also reported to consume the soul with hate. The authenticity of this was never proven, but it was believed by the general public.
The door opened from outside, and Kavik who was lost in his wandering thoughts and pressed against the door fell face flat to the floor.
"Your first lesson," Daron mused as he stared at Kavik. "You don't eavesdrop on elders. Now get some clothes on and join us."
With how pale he was, Kavik wasn't sure his skin could flush with embarrassment as he felt on the floor.
"Where am I?" Kavik asked as he looked up to see a grey-bearded Daron who had hints of salt and pepper in his hair. "Who are you?!"
"Good questions. Get dressed and I'd see if you're worthy of answers."
Kavik frustratingly dragged his naked self back into the room.
His sight caught the neatly folded clothes that rested by the bedside table and he changed into them. They smelled old and dusty but fitted him well, surprisingly. He avoided the vanity at all costs as he shuffled out of the barely painted room to join Daron and his companions.
"Welcome, child." Daron beamed and gestured at the steaming mug in front of him. "Help yourself with some ginger tea."
Kavik stood rooted to the ground. With all what he'd experienced, coupled with what he'd heard from their conversation, what's to say they're not planning to kill him with a 'ginger tea'? For this reason, Kavik decided not to drink the tea.
As if hearing his thoughts, Daron frowned while his companions simply chuckled.
"If I wanted to kill you, child, I would choose far more creative options." Daron scoffed, sounding offended. "Now drink. Warm yourself up, you're almost freezing from the cold."
Kavik wasn't still convinced but he had to do as asked. He took one step, then another, and poured himself a cup courteously.
The ginger tea tasted nothing like its name. It was rather sweet and warm like honey, yet it had spicy undertones that brought warmth to his insides instantly.
"This is the Grey Barrens," Daron bagan, "and I heard you were Severed, I wonder why, nephew."
The words hit Kavik like a punch in the gut. Daron was his uncle. Why didn't he think about it before? Bloodcrest Empire had had countless generals, but none were like Daron Evaran, the Fierce Wolf of the North.
He'd fought countless battles and won every single one. His strategic skills were unmatched and his fighting skills were impeccable. Suddenly, he had retired with no particular reason, but the Ruinhold masters gossiped about his traitorous actions or thereabouts.
"I… I'd tapped into an ancient, forbidden power and killed my peers." Kavik's tongue felt like lead. "Elder Sal said I was an abomination."
"Sal's always been fond of speaking from his ass." He spat. Kavik instantly deduced that he didn't like Elder Sal.
Daron took a deep breath and stretched his arm out. A lilac flame rose from his hand, dancing on his fingertips. It looked beautiful and overwhelming. Kavik could feel the intensity of the small flame from across the room, despite the large distance between them.
His uncle could wield the Phantom flame. At that moment, he was terrified. And yet, Strange as it sounded, he felt a sense of kinship with his uncle. He wasn't an anomaly. He didn't feel alone.
"No power is forbidden, child. And neither is pure. It's about how you wield it. Remember that." Daron let the fire die and stood up to straighten his grey beard.
He turned to leave but Kavik rushed to him, holding him back.
"So what future do I have? Stay here to rot in the Barrens like you?! What do I do with this much power if I'm locked away from the world?"
If Daron took an offense in Kavik's careless words, he didn't let it show on his face. He squeezed Kavik's shoulder gently and pulled him out of his way.
"When you have power, child, you must wield it. Let it control you, even." Daron exhaled simply and smiled at Kavik, then walked out.
Kavik stood helplessly as the door bolted shut in his face with Daron, Alaric and their third shuffling out. He was tired of being pushed around. Of being crushed under the wheel. So he held one thing certain: He'd wield the Phantom Flame to the fullest.
'There, boy,' King Zod whispered delightedly in Kavik's head. 'Such beautiful havoc we could wreak upon the world.'