Chapter 14 - March Through the Blizzard
The journey north was a grueling test of endurance.
As the royal army marched past the northern borders, the green meadows and rolling hills rapidly gave way to a desolate, white wilderness. The temperature plummeted below freezing within hours, turning breath into frost and freezing the water in the canteens solid.
General Vesper led the vanguard, her elite knights wrapped in heavy thermal cloaks over their plate armor, their horses struggling through drifts of glittering snow.
Riding at the center of the column, flanked by King Alden and Lord Kaelen, was Lucas. He wore a heavy cloak lined with dragon-scale leather, which kept him comfortably warm despite the howling gale. Above them, cutting through the swirling white clouds, the great golden dragon soared silently, its radiant body acting as a living beacon against the blinding blizzard.
“The pass is just ahead, Sire,” Kaelen shouted over the howling wind, pointing toward two massive, jagged cliffs that loomed like giant fangs out of the white haze. “Once we enter the gorge, we lose all shelter.”
Alden pulled his horse to a halt, raising a gloved hand to signal the army to halt. He looked back at his son. “Lucas, can you feel them?”
Lucas closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the freezing air. He could feel a deep, rhythmic thrumming in the earth—not the warm, pulsing heartbeat of his own dragon, but a cold, jagged resonance, like grinding ice.
“They’re waiting for us inside the gorge,” Lucas said, opening his eyes. “They know we’re here.”
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Suddenly, a deafening crack echoed through the mountains.
Massive blocks of ice and snow detached from the cliffs above, crashing down behind the army and sealing off the retreat route. The exit was blocked. They were trapped inside Frost-Tooth Pass.
