FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Sacrifice

          I straightened up, tears blurring the battle field in front of me. For a second I watched the scarlet liquid travel down my blade and run off the tip in fat droplets, bathing the parched grass below. Someone was screaming behind me. I turned to see Becca leaning over a still, small form on the grass.

                Charlotte.

                I left Lief’s body where it had fallen and rushed over to them, struggling to keep the bile from rising in my throat, battling the darkness that wanted to consume my vision.  Charlotte’s face was white and her eyes were closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks. My hands were shaking as I reached out to touch her throat, pressing my fingers to the side of her neck just under her ear. There was nothing, no pulse of life, no heartbeat under my trembling fingers.

                This can’t be happening.

                “Charlotte,” there was a constant ringing in my ears now, “Charlotte!”

                I reached down and took her shoulders, gripping her tightly. They couldn’t take her away from me like this. It wasn’t fair. Her face was blurred with the tears that obscured my vision, and I blinked furiously, as if losing sight of her would mean I would truly lose her.

                A deeper voice from behind us, a cross between a gasp and a shout, “Charlotte!”

                Davin was dragging himself forward with his good arm, his face completely devoid of blood, his entire body shaking with each movement, “No, Charlotte! Open your eyes!”

                I wanted to comfort him, but my body was too weak with shock. Why couldn’t I move?  Stacey came forward and placed a restraining hand on Davin’s good shoulder, “Don’t move, you’re losing too much blood.”

                Davin just snarled and shrugged out of her grip, determined to drag himself over to Charlotte.

                The ringing noise was getting worse, I didn’t realize how tightly I was gripping my katana until the fingers of my right hand had gone completely numb. Charlotte still didn’t move. A small, mean voice within me said in a reasonable tone, She’s dead. Get up and fight.

                “No,” my voice emerged in a pitiful moan, and I slumped forward over Charlotte’s body.  She was still warm, still human. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be!

                Screams reached us now, getting closer. Margaret was standing in front of me, looking down at Charlotte’s body. When she looked past me her sad expression froze, turning to shock and fear, “Megan, look!”

                I turned, my entire body felt heavy. It was hard to move. When I saw what Margaret was staring at the heaviness didn’t lift, it only grew worse.

                Some sort of vengeful, winter angel was storming her way through the army. A woman dressed in white from head to toe.  A fearsome headdress framed her marble face, and thorny points branched up above her head. She was so savage looking. Queen Eira swept her hands at the fire soldiers, and blasts of icy frost encased everyone who stood against her. She froze ten at a time, and anyone who charged her was killed instantly, or batted away with a careless flick of the wrist. Some unseen winter storm howled around her, blowing her robes out, whipping her tangled hair in writhing ropes around her face.

                My mouth went dry, and my bones turned to water. I couldn’t fight her, there was no way. How did they expect me to defeat that? She was the personification of a howling winter storm. She would freeze me and I would die. There was no doubt anymore. I’m going to die.