Glacius Frostmaw's Arc

Chapter 1 of 14

Glacius Frostmaw had climbed the world's highest peak to forge an unbreakable weapon, and the ice at the summit obeyed him. He shaped a blade from it with his bare hands. But the edge stayed dull. Frozen water was not enough. To wake the weapon, he needed a heart of true power. He had heard the stories his whole life. Deep in the peak slept an ancient cube, cut from the scales of the permafrost dragon. That cube held the power he needed. He found the cube in a cave behind a wall of blue ice. It sat on a stone shelf, its crystal ridges sharp, its surface breathing faint cold. Glacius reached for it. The air froze solid around his hand. "Take it and the mountain dies," said a voice. Glacius turned. A small figure stood in the cave mouth, white hair wild, blue eyes burning. This was Oskar Drumm, the ice demigod who had guarded the peak since before the orcs had names. Glacius's own grandmother had warned him about the guardian. He was smaller than a child and older than the ice itself. "I only need its power," Glacius said. "Not the mountain." "The cube is the mountain's heart." Oskar stepped closer. Frost spread from each footprint. "Others came for it. I buried them in the snow." Glacius did not reach again. He knelt instead, lowering his eyes to meet the small guardian's. "My people freeze in the low valleys. Raiders take what little we grow. I need a weapon that will not break. Not for greed. For them." Oskar studied him for a long moment. "You speak like your sister." Glacius stiffened. Skara had climbed this peak two winters ago and never returned home. "You knew Skara." "She sat where you kneel. She asked for the cube too." Oskar's face did not soften. "I sent her away. She would not raise a hand against me. She feared what the power would cost." "She's alive?" "She lives below the tree line. She grows a small tree there, one that blooms in the cold." Oskar pointed a thin finger at the cube. "Take the heart, and every tree on this mountain dies. Hers first." Glacius looked at the dull blade in his hand, then at the cube. He thought of his frozen people. He thought of his sister, alive after two silent years. He could not have both. He made his choice. He seized the cube. Ice exploded from the shelf. Oskar screamed and lunged, but Glacius pressed the cube against his blade. The dragon-scale power poured into the ice. The edge sharpened to a bright, humming line. The weapon woke. The whole cave shuddered. Cracks ran up the walls. Behind Glacius, deep in the peak, something groaned and began to shift. "You've killed it," Oskar whispered. "And when the mountain falls, it falls on her."