Chapter Text
Hvitur had never seen the palace before.
The only way he had ever been able to imagine it was through the elders' tales. They always had a glint in their eyes as they described it’s pristine statues, crystalline walls, and the grand towers that gleamed with captured starlight. And at the center of it all, the gift of light, which lit the palace with the dim glow of moon globes during even the darkest nights.
He dreamed of one day earning his place there — whether as one of the queen’s personal chefs or an esteemed palace guard. So when news of the war first reached his quiet village, he jumped at the chance to join the army.
The next few years passed by in a blur. After he went through training, he was sent directly to the front lines, fending off Burn’s constant attacks on the IceWing border. The battles got more intense each time, and soon the fighting spanned from coast to coast.
But despite the constant fighting, Hvitur had never gotten a chance to prove himself. Most days he was lucky to make it out alive. He had lost count of all the nights he had spent on watch, his claws anxiously scraping against the ice below him as he scanned the horizon, dreading what was to come the next day…
* * *
A few days ago he had been called from the thick of the fighting to guard a meeting between Blaze and Queen Glacier taking place on the northern border. He pondered what the meeting was about, but didn’t dare to question the Queen’s orders.
“You’d think that Blaze would be on time,” A voice spoke beside him. “It’s not like she has much else to do.”
“She’s probably more involved in the war than we know.” Hvitur replied, his claws twitching nervously in the absense of his spear.
“But what could be more important than a meeting with Queen Glacier?” The voice countered.
“Skua, could you not question Blaze’s punctuality within earshot of the other guards?” He pleaded.
He had the same thought already, but he had spent far too many years trying to get a promotion only to be passed up for speaking badly about the Princess.
It wasn’t surprising that Queen Glacier hadn’t arrived yet — she had earned a reputation for being late, but even then most still avoided confronting her about it.
Hvitur quickly glanced around at the other guards, trying to judge their reactions. One of the guards was quietly chuckling to himself, but the others kept their stern expressions.
Before Skua could reply, the sound of wingbeats echoed from overhead. Blaze swooped down onto the hill, shivering from the cold and accompanied by two SandWings.
Posters of Blaze had sprung up in his small village when the war broke out, but it still stunned Hvitur to see her face-to-face for the first time. She was pristine, her scales shining white gold, a white silk veil draped over her wings, and a silver tiara resting upon her head, adorned with a large green emerald.
But the main thing he noticed was what wasn’t there; the scars on her wings from training sessions, dulled claws from constantly scraping against the rock-hard ice, or even the weary look from stressing over the war. Even Queen Glacier wasn’t unaffected, her wings dipping under the pressure and dark circles under her eyes from many long nights.
He shook the idea off. Blaze probably had just learned to hide it better than most of the others. Her charming appearance had already been proven useful; several of Burn’s soldiers had already defected to join Blaze, so it made sense.
“I am Flaxen,” Her first SandWing guard introduced himself. “The other guard is Hummock, and the Princess Blaze.”
Blaze was shivering, trying to wrap the thin silk around her for warmth. “Isn’t there anywhere warmer in the Ice kingdom?” she asked. “Couldn’t we claim some of the desert?”
A pale-blue IceWing shook his head, looking somber. “We tried that, and it ended very badly.”
A shiver went up his spine. There had only been one attempt to advance into Burn’s territory so far, and it had ended disastrously. He thankfully wasn’t a part of it, but he still had nightmares for weeks afterward about being chosen.
Hummock’s gaze trailed over the IceWings. His right wing bore a deep scar that looked jagged, like it had been cut with serrated claws.
“They only sent eight guards to protect Blaze?” He scoffed. “You’d think our army is smaller than the Talons of peace.”
“The Talons of peace don’t have to defend an entire kingdom,” A darker-blue IceWing said defensively. “Besides, they’ve never been seen before, they were probably just another rumor made up by the NightWings.”
“Oh yeah, their camp was found a few days ago,” Blaze nonchalantly commented. “It’s just a bit east of the scorpion den.”
Hvitur’s brain stopped, unable to process the sheer magnitude of this information. All the IceWings were shocked, two of them with their mouths agape.
When news of the Talons first reached the IceWing kingdom, it spread with a wave of fear throughout the front lines. The NightWings now had a squad of loyal servants tricked into doing their bidding, as if having animus magic wasn’t enough power.
But as the war continued on without any sightings or any solid proof of their existence, most of the IceWings began to believe they were a hoax, made up by the NightWings so that they seemed more powerful. It certainly seemed to fit with everything else they did.
He would have expected such important news to be kept secret until Queen Glacier could publicly announce it, so it was surprising that Blaze was able to share it so openly.
Unless she wasn’t supposed to. The thought popped into his mind, and he quickly tried to shuffle it away. There’s no way that Blaze would be so careless. She has her own personal battalion of SandWings, and Queen Glacier trusted her enough to share such important information with her; she wouldn’t make such a simple mistake. But the next thought still slipped into place. You’ve never met Blaze before, maybe she’s always been like this.
He shook his head, trying to clear the disloyal thoughts away. The others had recovered from their shock, and many of them were whispering to another. Blaze was trying to rub her talons together for warmth, seeming oblivious to the others' reactions.
Hvitur turned his gaze to the edge of the kingdom. The hill they were sat upon steeply sloped down, the snow giving way to rocks barely a few wingbeats away. The sea of pale sand loomed ominously on the horizon, with a thin rocky wasteland splitting the two kingdoms apart.
A speck of red caught his eye, and a heartbeat later he recognised what it was. A squadron of SkyWings patrolling along the border, quickly getting closer.
SkyWings can see just as well as IceWings, so if he could see them, they could see him. He had learned that the hard way a few years ago, and he didn’t intend to be taught the same lesson twice.
“There’s a SkyWing patrol, get down!” Hvitur hissed over his shoulder, his instincts forcing him to the ground. Even Hummock’s pale yellow scales would blend in well with the snow, but all of them stuck out against the clear blue sky.
“But the ground is so cold…” Blaze whined as the others dropped down behind him.
Skua tried to grab her front talon and drag her to the ground. Blaze let out a yelp and jumped away as Skua’s cold scales brushed her, but she seemed to get the message and slowly began to lie down.
Blaze’s clean scales caught the sunlight and shone like a beacon, making Hvitur’s anxiety jump up a few notches.
She’s so careless, how could she ever become a queen? His mind whispered.
Hvitur shoved the thought aside, turning his attention back towards the SkyWing patrol. One of them had turned and was staring directly at Blaze, and he felt the familiar drop in his heart knowing that another battle awaited him.