Storm clouds still hung heavy over the Surgebreaker’s sails when shards of ice rode the waves and struck the hull with a sharp crunch.
Matthias held onto the rail, chilled by the sea wind, and stared ahead. The outline of an island had suddenly appeared on the horizon, and joy flickered in his eyes.
After they had survived the Brineclaw’s attack and struggled through the mist-shrouded depths, they had finally found Elysium Isle. But as their ship drew closer to shore, everyone was shocked.
The island before them was nothing like the ancient manuscripts had described, with their promises of endless spring and white blossoms that never withered.
Instead, it lay buried beneath a heavy sheet of ice. The land and sky blurred together in a single field of white. Even the wind carried a biting chill that stung like blades against the skin.
Jagged rocks along the shore had turned into dark, bluish-black ice spires. Each wave that crashed against them froze solid on impact, leaving behind frost blossoms that hardened in place. Layer by layer, they built up until the shoreline stretched into a snowy plain without end.
Standing beside Matthias, the elderly helmsman asked, “Your Highness, this… Is this really Elysium Isle?”
He pulled his thin cotton coat tighter as his teeth chattered from the cold. “It’s ten times colder than our worst northern winters.”
Matthias frowned at that. On his black battle robe, a layer of frost had formed. He pulled his collar higher to cover half his face.
“The chart is definitely pointing here. This is the place, but I don’t know why it looks like this,” he replied.
He turned to the soldiers behind him. Ice crusted their armor, and every breath formed white clouds in the air. Many of them rubbed their reddened hands together for warmth.
“Send word to the men. Find a sheltered spot to set up camp and build a fire,” he ordered.
His voice cut through the gale with unquestionable authority.
The soldiers wasted no time. They leaped from the ship and trudged through deep snow that reached up to their knees. Each step was a struggle, and the soles of their boots scraped against ice with sharp crunches. One slip threatened to send them tumbling.
They carried tent poles and bundles of firewood to a hollow at the island’s edge-a spot backed by a sheer ice wall that offered some shelter from the wind.
Setting up the tents was grueling work since the ropes had frozen stiff and wouldn’t tie. The soldiers had to breathe on them to thaw the ice, and the ropes left red welts on their hands that froze over almost immediately.
Neville, wrapped in a heavy cloak, leaned on his sword shaft with his one arm while giving orders. The wound across his back hadn’t healed, and every gust made him break out in cold sweat. Still, he gritted his teeth and pushed through.
“Quick! Get me some tinder,” one soldier shouted, clutching an armful of dry wood.
But the howling wind killed every spark before it could catch. He tried several pieces, watching them flare weakly and die out instantly.
Seeing that, Matthias reached into his coat and pulled out a fire crystal. He channeled his true energy into it, and the crystal burst into bright orange flame.
He held it against the dry wood, and fire spread rapidly through the pile. The sharp crackling echoed clearly across the silent, snowy plain.
The soldiers huddled close, stretching their numb fingers toward the flames. Finally, some warmth reached their faces.
Just then, one soldier pointed toward the distant ice field and exclaimed, “Your Highness, look over there!” 1
All eyes turned to see a white shape moving slowly across the plain. It was a spiritual stag, pure white from head to hoof, with antlers that glimmered as if carved from ice. Each step left behind delicate snowflakes that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
The creature’s eyes were like pale blue gemstones, gleaming softly in the snowy landscape. Its movements were so graceful that it seemed like a spirit of snow and ice itself.
“An omen! This must be a sign from Elysium Isle,” Matthias exclaimed, his eyes blazing with excitement.
He leaped to his feet, drew his sword, and said, “We have to capture it. If I can present this to Father, it’ll prove I’ve found the island.”
The soldiers stirred with excitement, drawing their weapons and surrounding the spiritual stag from all directions.
The creature seemed to sense danger. It stopped and turned its head, looking at the approaching crowd with pale blue eyes that showed no fear.
“Don’t hurt it. Capture it alive,” Matthias shouted as he charged forward. The ice cracked sharply beneath his boots as he channeled his inner energy to form a barrier around the stag.
But just as the men approached, the stag lifted its head and opened its mouth, releasing a blast of icy white mist.
The mist spread instantly, rolling over the soldiers like a tidal wave. The men at the front had no time to react and were directly enveloped by the mist, their bodies frozen solid.
Startled, Matthias quickly retreated, but couldn’t escape the white mist as it touched his arm. Bone-chilling cold spread through his entire body instantly, and his arm went numb.
He looked down and saw that the soldiers covered by the white mist had turned into lifelike ice sculptures. Their expressions were still frozen in their charging poses. Even their bodies were wrapped in thick ice, and every strand of hair was visible.
“What… What kind of monster is this?”
one soldier screamed in terror, dropping his weapon with a clatter. Everyone was terrified by the scene before them and backed away. They no longer dared to approach the spiritual stag.
Matthias stared at the frozen figures, and his back was instantly drenched in cold sweat. All the elation he’d felt moments before vanished as he finally realized this seemingly gentle creature possessed such terrifying power.
The spiritual stag glanced at the terrified crowd, then turned and walked slowly toward the depths of the snowy plain. It left behind a trail of hoof prints made of snowflakes before disappearing into the vast expanse.
