Chapter 8 - The Siege of Iron and Ice
The Northern Pass was a nightmare of iron and white despair.
A howling blizzard swept through the narrow mountain canyon, blinding the eye and freezing the blood. The ancient Watchtower of the First Bound—a massive, black-stone spire built into the mountain cliff—was lit by the harsh, violent glow of burning pitch pots.
Five thousand legionnaires of House Prescott had encircled the tower. Heavy iron chains, thick as a man's thigh, were draped across the snowy courtyard, attached to massive ballistas aimed directly at the tower gateway.
At the center of the courtyard stood Duke Vane, clad in heavy spiked iron armor, holding a massive black warhammer. Beside him, Graham stood holding a burning torch, his face twisted in desperate, manic ambition.
"Pound the seals!" Vane bellowed above the howling wind. "Break the granite! Force the beasts out!"
Four massive iron rams slammed repeatedly against the ancient runes of the Watchtower gateway. With every strike, jagged purple cracks snapped across the stone, and a dark, sickening energy leaked into the air.
THOOM.
A streak of blinding silver light cut through the blizzard.
A war-horn sounded across the canyon—a deep, resonant roar of the Royal Vanguard!
Out of the white gloom, King Callum rode upon a massive black warhorse, flanked by two thousand elite royal knights clad in silver armor.
Beside him, riding bareback upon the massive white frame of Aster, was Aloan.
She wore silver-and-green leather armor, her long chestnut hair whipping in the arctic wind, her eyes glowing with raw, brilliant silver power. To her left, Briar sprinted through the deep snow like a mountain avalanche; to her right, Sol leaped over the jagged rocks, his floating golden crown cutting through the blizzard like a beacon of hope.
"Vane Prescott!" Callum’s voice boomed through the canyon, amplified by his Alpha aura. "Stand down! You are committing high treason!"
Duke Vane turned slowly, his face covered in frost, his dark eyes burning with mad rage. "Treason?! I am saving this realm from your weakness, Callum! You surrendered the royal power to a servant girl! If I hold the spirits in iron, Iron Ridge will rule the North forever!"
"He's completely insane," Aloan whispered, feeling the sickening, corrupting energy leaking from the cracked Watchtower seals. "Callum... the Barrier is breaking. If those seals shatter, the Frost-Blight will pour through!"
"We take the courtyard!" Callum shouted, drawing his longsword. "VANGUARD! CHARGE!"
The royal knights roared, plunging down the icy slope into the courtyard.
"Fire the ballistas!" Graham screamed, pointing his torch at the mountain ridge. "Capture the white wolf! Kill the girl!"
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
Massive iron harpoons attached to heavy chains shot through the air, aimed directly at Aster and Aloan!
"Briar!" Aloan cried out.
The dark charcoal wolf leaped twenty feet into the air, his massive jaws snapping the heavy iron chains in mid-flight like dry twigs! He landed amidst the Prescott ballista crews, scattering iron soldiers like autumn leaves with a single sweep of his dark, massive tail.
Callum crashed into the main body of the Prescott infantry, his sword a shimmering blur of blue light, cutting through shields and spears, clearing a path toward the center of the courtyard.
Aloan rode Aster directly toward Duke Vane.
"Get off that beast, maid!" Vane screamed, raising his massive black warhammer, his body surging with a terrifying, desperate Alpha aura. He lunged forward, swinging the hammer toward Aster’s front legs.
Aster leaped sideways with impossible grace.
Aloan slipped off Aster's back, landing lightly on her bare feet in the deep snow. The moment her skin touched the sacred ground of the Watchtower, her three royal marks ignited in a glorious burst of light!
Frost swept from her right shoulder! Shadow erupted from her chest! Sun lit up her brow!
"You want to command the wild, Duke Vane?" Aloan’s voice rang out, echoing off the stone mountains like a chorus of divine voices. "Then face the wild!"
She raised her hands.
Sol stepped to her side, his crown igniting into a column of solar fire that melted the snow for fifty yards around them. Aster unleashed a roaring arctic gale that froze the Prescott soldiers' iron armor solid, pinning them in place. Briar surged into the shadows beneath Vane’s feet, wrapping dark, ethereal tendrils around the Duke's heavy legs.
Vane roared in fury, fighting against the dark tendrils, swinging his warhammer wildly. "I am an Alpha of Iron Ridge! I do not bow to a servant!"
"You don't bow to me," Aloan said softly, stepping closer to him through the swirling storm of snow and gold. "You bow to the realm you tried to destroy."
Sol let out a ringing bark.
A wave of pure golden energy blasted forward, striking Vane in the chest. The massive Duke was lifted off his feet, his iron armor shattering into a hundred pieces, his hammer flying into the snow as he crashed violently against the base of the Watchtower.
Graham dropped his torch, falling to his knees in the slush, weeping in sheer, pathetic terror as Briar stepped up to him, resting a dark paw lightly upon his chest.
"It's over, Graham," Aloan said quietly, looking down at the broken Heir of Iron Ridge.
CRACK.
A sound like thunder snapping a mountain in half filled the air.
Everyone froze.
At the center of the courtyard, the ancient Watchtower gateway didn't just crack—it completely exploded outward in a cloud of black dust and jagged stone.
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A freezing, terrifying darkness poured out of the mountain—a thick, crawling shadow of black ice, jagged bone, and screaming red eyes.
The Frost-Blight had breached the Great Barrier.
