10. 2
Chapter 10. 2
The Froststorm engulfed the ridge in seconds, transforming Aidan's carefully planned ambush into desperate survival. Men froze where they stood, skin blueing instantly, eyes widening in silent horror as ice crystals formed in their blood.
"Fall back!" Aidan ordered, though few remained capable of hearing him. The Shroudmark burned against his skin, suddenly hot enough to steam in the freezing air. "To the eastern slope!"
His lieutenant staggered toward him, face already covered in delicate frost patterns. "Sir," he gasped, words forming ice crystals that shattered with each syllable. "Can't... feel..."
Aidan grabbed the man's arm, dragging him toward the relative shelter of a stone outcropping. Three others followed, their movements growing sluggish as the cold penetrated their heavy clothing.
Through the swirling ice, Aidan caught glimpses of the valley below. The Dissidents were moving again, using the storm as cover. At their center walked a small figure—the child whose Shroudmark had been reported in multiple sightings across the territory.
"The prophet," Aidan muttered, understanding dawning. "She's controlling it somehow."
His lieutenant no longer responded, eyes glazed with frost. The other men huddled together, breath coming in shorter, more labored gasps.
The Shroudmark pulsed again, and with it came the Eclipse's voice, clearer than ever before:
*Follow them. Join them. Your quest is futile.*
Aidan's hand moved to his knife, but he found himself hesitating. The cold had numbed his determination along with his extremities.
*You hunt the alchemist for the wrong reasons, investigator. Your memories lie.*
"No," Aidan growled, forcing the knife against his skin once more. The pain came dull and distant, barely penetrating the cold's embrace. "I remember the fire. The betrayal."
*You remember what I allow you to remember,* the voice replied, almost gentle now. *Cut your flesh a thousand times. The truth remains buried until I permit its release.*
Fighting through numbing cold, Aidan raised his spyglass again. Through the storm's veil, he spotted Alden limping alongside the others, one arm supporting the healer woman whose corrupted limb gleamed unnaturally against the white landscape.
*You were there at the beginning,* the Eclipse whispered. *You held the first vial of Grey Chord. You offered it to Elias Renshaw.*
"Lies," Aidan snarled, though doubt crept into his voice.
With trembling fingers, he reached into his coat, extracting the empty vial he'd found in the snow. Grey Chord residue glinted along its edges, calling to him with silent promise.
*Taste it. Remember.*
His men were still now, frozen in their death postures. Aidan stood alone in the heart of the Froststorm, the vial hovering near his lips.
"Just a taste," he whispered to himself. "Just to know the truth."
---
The mill appeared through the Froststorm like a ghost, its stone walls frosted white, the collapsed section of roof allowing snow to pile inside. Thorne reached it first, helping the others through the narrow doorway.
"Everyone inside," he commanded, counting heads as the Dissidents filed past. "Quickly!"
Liora guided Mira through the entrance, the child walking with the strange calm that had marked her since the storm's arrival. Behind them, Alden struggled, his calcified leg dragging heavily through the deepening snow.
"The hunters follow still," Mira observed quietly as Corbin worked to barricade the door behind them. "One tastes the Chord even now. He remembers."
Liora settled the girl on a relatively dry patch of floor, away from the snow drifting through the open roof. "What hunters, Mira? What does he remember?"
Instead of answering, Mira began to draw in the frost coating the floor. Her small finger traced precise lines, forming the now-familiar spiral of the Eclipse, but with a new addition—two figures at its center, facing each other.
"Brothers in blood," she murmured. "Brothers in Chord."
Across the room, Alden had collapsed against a wall, his breathing labored. The crystallization had spread visibly in the past hours, now covering nearly two-thirds of his face. Thorne knelt beside him, speaking in urgent whispers.
Liora's crystallized arm throbbed painfully, drawing her attention downward. The black veins pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, but the star-like points embedded in the crystal had multiplied, forming constellations beneath her skin.
"It's beautiful," Mira said, suddenly at her side again. "You're becoming like the night sky."
Liora swallowed hard. "What's happening to me?"
The prophet child's clouded eyes seemed to see through her. "The Eclipse reshapes you. A vessel, like me." Her small hand traced the patterns in Liora's arm. "But you will be greater. You will speak its words when the Veil falls."
Corbin appeared beside them, his expression tight with concern. "The storm's getting worse. We'll be trapped here for hours, maybe days." His gaze lingered on Liora's transformed arm. "And you're getting worse too."
"I'm fine," Liora insisted, though the constant pain belied her words.
"You're not fine," Corbin countered. "None of us are fine. Renshaw is practically more glass than man now. The child speaks in riddles. And you—" He gestured to her arm. "Whatever that is, it's spreading."
Mira smiled up at him, unperturbed by his harsh tone. "The Eclipse touches us all differently, artificer. Even you."
Corbin flinched as if struck. "I'm no artificer anymore."
"The past never leaves us," Mira replied, turning back to her frost drawing. "Ask the hunter who follows. He remembers now."
---
The taste of Grey Chord residue lingered on Aidan's tongue, metallic and sweet with undertones of rot. He staggered through the Froststorm, alone now, his men left behind as frozen monuments to his obsession.
The world around him pulsed in and out of focus, reality overlapping with memory:
*The laboratory again. Clearer now. Himself, younger, in an artificer's apprentice uniform. Elias Renshaw explaining his discovery.*
*"The Chord variants each affect different aspects of consciousness," Elias said, holding up vials of differently colored liquids. "Black Chord enhances physical abilities but accelerates addiction. White Chord stimulates cellular regeneration but causes dependency."*
*"And the Grey?" Aidan heard himself ask, fascinated despite his reservations.*
*"Memory," Elias replied, holding up the cloudy vial. "It allows us to forget... or to remember what was deliberately hidden."*
*A gap then. Time passing in disjointed fragments. The research progressing. Elias growing more erratic, more brilliant.*
*"The Eclipse isn't just a phenomenon," Elias insisted, eyes fever-bright. "It's an entity. A consciousness that exists between realities. And the Veil is weakening."*
*Then disagreement. Shouting. Alden arriving, finding his brother in a state of paranoid deterioration.*
*"You've been using it yourself," Alden accused, horror in his voice. "Grey Chord. On yourself."*
*Elias, skin already showing signs of crystallization, laughing bitterly. "How else could I remember what they want us to forget? The Eclipse was here before. The Veil was created to cage it."*
*The final memory: Elias injecting a massive dose of Grey Chord, his body transforming rapidly, glass-like veins spreading across his skin.*
*"I remember everything now," he gasped, voice distorting. "The Original Sacrifice. The Umbral Veil. The Accord."*
*Then the explosion. Not from the Chord, but from Aidan's own hand. The detonator. The flames.*
*Alden screaming his brother's name as Elias shattered into a thousand glittering shards.*
*And Aidan, backing away in horror at what he'd done, whispering, "The knowledge dies with him. As ordered."*
The vision faded, leaving Aidan trembling in the snow. The Shroudmark burned more fiercely than ever, the spiraling pattern now covering his entire arm and spreading across his chest.
"I was the betrayer," he whispered, the truth settling like ice in his stomach. "I killed Elias. I caused this."
The Froststorm seemed to part before him now, revealing a path forward. At its end, the dark shape of a mill stood silhouetted against the white landscape.
*Go to them,* the Eclipse urged, voice almost gentle. *Confess your sins to the alchemist. Let your blood pay the debt.*
Knife in hand, Aidan stumbled forward toward his destiny.