Work Text:
The cold had never hurt Scott, if he was being honest.
His ice magic had made him immune, had made it so that even the highest of temperatures would struggle to bother him. However, even before his magic, levels below freezing never really caused him much trouble.
When young, it felt welcoming, like the calling of a home he did not remember, but was there, whispering in his ear every time the snow fell and the lakes froze over. When the grass frosted and he could see his breath. When the days shortened and they had to go underground- he sometimes thinks he would've been fine had he stayed outside come winter, if it weren’t for the visibility problems in blizzards and most food hiding from the cold.
Arriving to the academy, everything had felt so… foreign. It was different, and far warmer than he had experienced outside of his home and the magma in the winter village. A land that had never seen snow in its life and a man who had rarely seen days without some form of frost, excluding 4 months of the year where the sun appeared and the average was above freezing.
Pyro being there, despite their hostile reunion, was a relief. It felt good to have at least something familiar by his side.
Gaining ice as his magic helped, too. He didn't care for the irony of the ice mage being from a town in one of the coldest regions in the northern mountains. Though, sometimes it just made him miss home more.
In a way, it made sense to him. It made sense of why the cold felt inviting rather than off-putting. Why the snow felt like a comforting hug rather than the potential cold embrace of death. Why when, despite never feeling like he really belonged back home, when the elders and more paranoid individuals thought him a fae child or some malevolent winter spirit, (for no child should be able to survive the cold for as long as he had. No, there must be something different), he could never imagine wanting to leave the ice and snow of Tegrith behind, not even to stay with his best friend, or see the rest of the world.
Now with his powers, newfound friends and refound family, he’s never felt more at home, even in the constant danger they were.
When his magic grew, when he gained new abilities and spells, became stronger and gained more and more control of his magic, the changes to his body felt natural.
When his hair began to turn teal, the air around him froze and those who strayed to close to him shivered, he disliked it immediately as a sign of his lack of control… yet at the same, it felt right. Like these changes were meant to happen. Like his bond with Aurora hadn't given him his magic but merely… awakened it.
He really thought that was the case for everyone- and in some, it was. But that's most likely why he- nor anyone else, thought much of the changes.
1.
“Did you dye your hair?”
Scott steps paused, the question expected but still not quite prepared for. He did not in fact dye his hair. No, his hair decided it would start turning blue from stress instead of going grey, because magic is weird and Pyro is an ass.
Shelby’s question was well meaning, but really Scott did not know how to talk about it (nor did he want to).
A part of him, deep down, is a little worried he’s turning out like Serin.
Only, instead of a sacrifice for the people he cares for and has sworn to protect, he has to experience it happen. Slowly. Gradually freezing from the inside out.
But he wasn’t going to point that out. No reason to worry them. And even then, something tells him that freezing his body like that… might not be possible.
However, Drift and Shelby were his friends, and had stuck by him when they could have left. (When he knew a part of them wanted to.)
"If I'm being honest?" Scott looked the two in their eyes. "It’s a side effect of my magic, I think. Started after… after Pyro left." The again went unsaid and unheard.
Their eyes widened- probably remembering each of the fourfold guards' fates in the books- and he had to reassure them that that wasn't the case. (probably)
After a moment of silence, relief that he wasn't actively turning into ice practically tangible, Drift spoke up.
“It is weird though.”
He tilted his head. ”What is?”
”That your magic's affecting you like this? Physically I mean? A lot of people have stuff going on-“ and Drift would know, with her connection to Aj and the general rumour mill- “and yet I don't think anyone’s been like, visibly changed by their magic like you have. Yeah some people feel things differently or aren’t affected by some things anymore- Shelby cant even really fall anymore! But I dunno know man, your hair changing like this feels a bit odd.”
Scott thought about it. And yes, he could admit it was strange. But that's only because none of them had really dealt with magic before- they had no idea what its effects were. Everything that had been happening was new and different, and definitely odd, meaning they had no basis and they all knew it.
”I guess… but we don't really know if it is, do we?” Shelby helpfully pointed out Scott's thoughts.
”Yeah” He chimed in, “plus, it isn't actually completely unheard of? I’m pretty sure Legs’ blue streak came from... something?" He shrugged. "Some magical adjacent accident.” There. Now they could stop worrying about something inconsequential. One point to Boralith for dismissing potential issues and worry about his general wellbeing, Zero to actually worrying about his problems.
”I guess you're right.”
Hopefully, it wasn't anything to worry about.
2
Osteon panted, the action somewhat difficult with the shivers attempting to rattle their body and the general drowsiness from minor hyperthermia.
The outcome of the fight was surprising, to say the least. The first duel had barely allowed him to get a sense of Scott's strengths before he was knocked out of bounds, so in the beginning, she was planning to go slow, to get a better feel of his skills. And she had, at first.
But quickly, Scott laid barrages of attacks- his blizzard was admittedly cold and made it hard to see, despite this the ice-mage seemed to take this in stride, using the familiar lack of visibility to his advantage. Paired with the ice-blasts, swords strikes and natural type advantage against her skelleton summons, Scott took the battle in stride.
Even with Osteons overall larger amount of direct combat experience and training (particularly in the magical context)- he was bested fairly swiftly. Truthfully, this had made it harder to believe that none of them had had training, however they could tell from everyone’s reactions that this was as shocking for them as it was for Osteon, and by the sounds of it Scott too.
She knew he had gone on that training trip- had stayed longer than Drift and Shelby- considering the lack of available instructors (because, whilst she might be the last dragon rider and the only age who gained abilities in a similar mannar, they were not qualified for teaching potentials how to control their magic).
But it was magic that had overpowered someone who had received years preparation and tutoring, and in these circumstances that was definitely something note worthy.
”That was… very impressive.” Because, it was. “I understand you said you’re completely self-trained.”
It was incredible, to say the least. If this was completely autodidactically over, what? Two and a half months? Osteon was curious how much further he would go- that they all would, but it was clear his magic was advancing faster than most of even Osteon’s classmates (from what they can remember). But the real question was why the Ice-Mage was growing so quickly- it couldn’t be all talent, could it? That wasn't impossible, but was typically found only in those born with their abilities rather than given, and as far as she knows Scott is not one of them.
The Ice-Mage scrunched his nose, clearly a little annoyed at the topic still. “Yup. No one's really taught us anything, so I've practised it on my own.” He shrugged, “it just comes a bit more naturally to me, I guess.”
Was it really just talent? Either way, Osteon would need to keep an eye out for Scott. As an enemy, he had proved to be quite the challenge. As an ally however… the Ice Mage could prove more than useful. And as a friend… she was curious about the other, and worried where this advancement may leave him. Hopefully none of the wrong people would notice, the Queen may be absent but others… she would have to be careful. Both sets of reports could pose equal danger to the younger, and Osteon found themselves disliking that more with each day.
3
The measuring tape flicked back- Melinks’ magic keeping them afloat as she wrote down his measurements. Scott had tried on his disguise for the bandit camp and well- everything was just a little too small. The pants ended a little to high and shoulders too stiff- and really the main problem was moving his arms fully. Finding that her carefully tailored outfit didn't quite fit right was a little shocking to Melinks, as that hadn't happened for quite some time, but she was skilled and Pyro, Ambear and Scott had a bit of a timeframe.
“Sorry again- I hope this hasn't slowed down any of your plans” she sighed, a little embarrassed, “I understand they’re important.”
Scott shrugged and sat down, having put on his outfit once more as he waited for Melinks to adjust the clothes.
“It’s fine. Besides, I wear so many furs and layers anyways, it's not your fault.”
She hummed in doubt- having had taken that into thought when making the original outfit- but didn't voice her thoughts. “You sure you haven't happened to have any growth spurts recently?” she said, with a little bit of humour but also some genuine curiosity, as if the man needs to be any taller. Because the additional layers typically would've meant it should've been too big- maybe she did adjust it a bit too much?
“I'm twenty three, I think we’d have some different issues if I was getting taller. Some of the passages around here are small enough as they are.” Scott chuckled, and Melinks joined in, giggling at the image of an even bigger Scott struggling with doorways.
And as she adjusted the disguise, chatting to him in the meanwhile, she couldn't help but doubt- because it has been a long time since she’s been wrong about anyone's size. But if that's what Scott said, she’d go along for now.
Besides, chances are that it was just a simple mistake. She may have not seen him for a little while, so her memory could have been playing some tricks on her.
And frankly he does wear way too many layers, even for someone who consistently mentioned he isn't bothered by the cold or warmth.
After all, everyone makes mistakes. Chances are it's probably nothing.
4
The Ice Block is still activated in his Wheel.
Needless, to say, Legs was a little confused- maybe confuddled is a better word. Confused, confuddled and confounded.
And very, very intrigued.
Now, Scott had said that he was able to use it when he couldn't use his mana. Ignoring the other concerning parts of this confession (because how do you address the fact that said spell was unlocked when Scott was dropped off a cliff by some being that wanted to take over his dead body? Frankly speaking, they didn't quite know each other as well as Legs maybe wanted to to be able to actually pry further.), when Legs heard of this ability he knew they immediately had to test this- because this was a new precedent. No one else had been able to activate any spell when inside thus far, and yet.
“It really doesn't affect your mana?”
Scott hummed. “Not really. If I'm honest, not many of my abilities do? They kind of just happen when i want to- like my path or when i freeze the water.” Legs grew more curious at this, but Scott continued as if he hadn't just said something that went against how most people's spells worked. “But the block… it’s not really intentional?”
“So like, it just happens?”
“Yeah- its like, my body knows its in danger so it just- wham- Ice Block. It soothes my injuries as well- i think it heals them, just a bit.”
Curious. It heals him?
“I’d assume it’d be more of a crunching sound? Like a Crrch kinda noise?”
Scott laughed. He has a very nice laugh, Legs noted. “Probably, that definitely sounds better than mine.”
“But really? No mana at all?”
“Nope, none.”
”And it heals you?”
”Yup.”
Huh. “Huh.” Legs paused, considering. “Thats… thats really interesting.”
Interesting indeed. Logically speaking, Scott shouldn't be able to summon any ice that wasn't from a preactivated spell. If this was his body just reacting instinctually, how would it still have magic to create it? Scott may look like he belongs in the snow- feel like it, with how cold he is- but that's after gaining their magic. Unless the ice magic is more integrated with Scott than they think? Everyone's been coming into their powers in completely different ways, and gods know Legs’ own relationship and new found senses in regards to his. Let alone everything with the wheel.
No matter the case, he’s just glad Scott is safe. They may not talk much, but Legs would miss him if something happened.
A part of him can't help but feel like there is something much more to this, but something else tells him they'll only know the why by waiting and seeing what will happen. There was too much to do first anyways- the wheel was taking up enough thought process as it was.
Whatever it may be, Legs feels like they could handle it.
5
Ambear was worried about Scott.
Things were bad- Pyro was in jail, and whilst she wasn't quite handling it well per say (it was her fault he’s in there because of her, because he helped her-) but Scott and Pyro were close- and for all the strong fronts he put on, the piercing cold that had been following in his wake gave away how he was truly doing.
It was strange, really, how his magic reacted to himself. Whilst Ambear hadn't been born with her magic- incredibly uncommon in the fae- she knew that typically humans didn't have magic as potent as this.
Now, the bonds with the dragons activated their mana- this is the case for the majority of students and even herself, but for many she knew it was mostly a tool. It was something they could use and could be cut off from and remain mostly unaffected.
When Legs uses his iron wheel- cancelling her magic, it does not feel like she is cut off, like most others, more it feels like she is separated from it.
But the way Scott wields his magic- it is like an extension of himself, so different from most others. Like an entire other facet of his being. For all his apparent control it seems to react to his emotions like his magic was not something given but unlocked. The others were slowly growing into this, but from what she's heard Scott’s had done this from the beginning.
She wasn't an expert in the different types of magic, not by a long shot, and she knew others in the academy whose magic did act in a similar manner, but it really was odd, especially in its extremity… Pyro’s (its her fault she's why he's in jail and he could die-) was similar in nature, but didn't react nearly the same way.
However Scott was understandably stressed, she was too, and couldn't fault him if it seeped out a little, even if the frostbite did hurt. She would just have to be there for him, every step of the way. She’d help him figure this out, somehow. No matter what it could mean.
For now, they had a trial. They’d work it out, plan A, or plan B.
6
The dorm hall had been warmer these past few weeks.
Despite rarely inhabiting his dorm since it was set on fire, the warmth of his room had seeped out, wrecking the typically moderate temperature created between his and Scott's with the ice mage’s recent absence.
Scott had been gone for two weeks on his mission- and that was fine, at first, but now Pyro’s head is loud and his mind is tired, and he really just needed the familiarity of the space.
They were unsure he wasn’t just going mad at first- the pressure of it all somehow getting to him, maybe the lack of air from his submersion in the water.
It wasn’t the air.
Despite not going to their dorm much anymore, he was venturing into the space, maybe hoping to run into his old friend with him being due any day now. Maybe to have something comforting to quiet his rampaging thoughts and emotions.
They were hoping that just maybe, Scott could lessen the ever lurking presence in their mind.
Fortunately, this course of action was correct (very uncommon in recent days- or ever, really.). Running probably too fast around the corner, Pyro practically walked into a wall. Confusing, considering that no wall should be there, maybe a prank? But, no, looking up- and… further up, said wall was distinctly blue toned with a somewhat familiar face atop it.
A face that Pyro, despite their doubts in the validity of his mind recently, remembers definitely being… shorter? Less tall. Nor balky. Which is impressive considering Scott's frame as it was a few weeks ago.
Catching up, his claims of manual labour up in the north could explain the last, as well as his fancy new armour and clothes (and really, how did he find any in his size? He must be at least a couple inches taller, if possible.), but the extra head of height was not. It was clear that Scott was off put by it as well- likely not noticing with not being in a familiar place for two weeks- but his need to duck slightly to enter into the room was definitely a new habit for him that Pyro wasn’t just forgetting. (as was happening a bit more frequently, their mind normally a steel trap.)
Queries of Scott’s new stature was quickly chased away, however, as confessions of Pyro’s new affliction spilled out, unable to lie to his friend again. Any intentions to acknowledge the difference were brushed off with the hope sworn in vows of loyalty and dedication.
It didn’t stop him from wondering though, as they journeyed through the day and saw other people notice, the question on all of their lips, but hurried off with the need to research any new way to fight the corruption.
Pyro could tell his friend didn’t want to discuss it, preoccupied with Pyro's own problems, which were admittedly probably of a higher priority.
But that didn’t stop them from wondering. Of his brother in everything but name and blood’s true origins.
Wondering, if maybe his aunt and uncle's assumptions of his being human maybe being to presumptual.
They couldn’t help, for a moment, but picture the imagery of tall figures carved into the ancient caverns that is their winter village- here long before the first people of Tegrith settled in the icy mountains- images of horned giants, some twice a man’s height, some a dozen, with motifs of ice and snow following in their wake. The pictures were definitely in too much detail for carvings as old and worn as what surrounded their childhood- so much so that Pyro doubted if what they were picturing was entirely of their own memory.
But the images stuck, even as he could feel the corruption slowly try to seep it away to its collection.
As annoying at the idea of Scott becoming any taller was (and he was now easily closer to 7ft tall than he was to 6, and there were now no doubts that that would continue, Pyro was sure), they found they didn’t really mind, and was as pleased as his was alarmed at the paranoia the idea of Scott’s true heritage brought to the corruption.
Whatever the case, Scott’s origins was a bit of a loaded topic (no thanks to a younger Pyro), so he’d approach this carefully. Though, they're not too sure they want this knowledge into the clasps of the hive.
Either way, Pyro would stand by his friend, and hope that the promise to freeze him won't come to be, if only for Scott’s sake.
Who knows what it could mean if Scott was able to get that cold, for either of them.
7
Scott was panting. Running Walking as fast as he could, the voice and feeling of wrong no get away what are you doing here making his heart hammer and his mind whirl- not helped but his conversation with the corruption.
Thoughts of his mana- of leaky pipes and frozen grey followed his steps and his clumsy ice-path, his typically convenient movement ability being disrupted by whatever forces lurk in this place and give it it unnatural glow. As he ran sprinted, his mind panicked. Thoughts, of those he cares about hating and despising him- of never being happy, of never being able to go home as himself nor with his best friend, tormenting him as he went, an ever present figure in the corner of his eyes following his steps.
He thought the door would keep him safe- and it did, only Scott found he didn’t feel very secure being protected by the thing that tried to kill him and possess his body months back.
But then it told him it had found memories that remembered his birth family.
His birth relatives- who either died in the woods or left a toddler alone on the side of the road the same time of year the cold began and the wolves migrated. Who abandoned him to the mercy of nature and fate, when he was far too young to even remember them.
(He didn’t care about them. He didn’t.
He didn’t care for the answers of why his eyes were purple when the first time he saw some of the same hue was on a different continent. Not why he was so tall and just kept growing taller. Nor why his magic came so naturally nor why the snow felt more like home than the actual town he grew in.
He didn’t care for the people themselves, at least.)
That wouldn’t convince him, no, and the door seemed to know this. Because the conversation switched, and apparently the corruption can be frozen solid, and The One Who Sleeps is not whole. Because his magic has not reached close to its peak, and the corruption can be frozen solid. Because the thing that tried to take his body wants to do so again, and a part of Scott, a part deep inside that knows there could be no other option, might let it.
Because Pyro is corrupted, and Tegrith might be too, and the thing behind this door is offering Scott a solution.
But to fix that he needs to get stronger. Not only will that lead to him hurting those he’s trying to protect- but it may lead him down to information that he’s never needed, never wanted.
Scott doesn't know where this may lead him- but he needs to think about any solution that doesn’t involve that.
+1
It turns out thinking about it leads to a headache.
Now, it could definitely be from the crying. He did a lot of that when talking to Ambear, and since, and it would make sense as to why his eternal internal icepack hadn’t soothed it (honestly great for hangovers and injuries). Not to mention the lack of sleep
But the pain wasn’t behind his eyes or in the center of his forehead, like you usually get after a good few cries, with slight dehydration and sleep deprivation.
No, this wasn’t even an ache. It was a piercing feeling- from either side of his temple, like his skull was quite literally trying to dig itself out through his skin.
This, paired with the ever increasing growing pains of all things (because Scott can’t deny anymore, he is definitely growing taller, and his body doesn't seem inclined to stop.), made doing his typical chores around Thawdale difficult- his usual therapy of cooking dumplings (the closest he could get to beating something up with no bounties, bandits, goblins or Dukes, and not quite angry enough to punch trees yet) has decidedly not been working well when the smell of food was revolting, and the thought of doing anything remotely physical felt horrible.
Was he getting sick? Wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen recently by a long shot, despite the rarity of it happening. What was weirder was his magic wasn’t numbing anything- its partly why he hadn't noticed him growing the past few months, because his body had numbed the pain before he’d felt it. His spells were working, yet not even his ice-block lessened the strain, and he found himself startled earlier at a scrape he’d gotten whilst farming aching, the feeling unfamiliar after these months.
Nevertheless, Scott got up, and did the only reasonable thing he could think of.
He attempted to go do some work on Thawdale, only to walk two steps and promptly collapse into a giant lump of pain and misery.
Just about every bone in his body was screaming at him, aching in a way he hadn’t felt since his growth spurts as a teen- the piercing feeling in his head nothing like anything he’d felt. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but his skull being stabbed from the inside out, with every limb being stretched and inflated like some ancient torture device in a constant, aching pulse.
Distantly, Scott clutched at his head, pulling his blonde blue locks as he felt something tear, a scream ringing out from somewhere. Is someone hurt? Are they okay? Where? I need to help- his throat felt coarse and he had no breath. Oh, was that me? Was i screaming?
Scott could barely comprehend what was happening, the steady trickle of blood down his face a far away thought as the last wisps of consciousness faded away to the pulses that continued to rack his body, the world falling as any and all awareness was taken by the ever increasing pain.
—---------
The tension in the air was thick, worry for their friend so palpable Scott could probably freeze it if he wanted.
If he would wake up, that is.
Ambear had gone to check on him in Thawdale, only to find him on the ground, in pain, clutching his head and covered in blood.
The sight was completely unexpected, having thought he just wasn't in Thawdale until Aurora had come bolting to her in a frenzy and all but dragged her into Scott's house.
Upon finding him, she had felt a very reasonable panic at the time, worried he had been attacked- a terrifying thought not only because he’s her friend, but also because if someone could do this to Scott then who knows what they were dealing with and who she needed to beat up.
She had tried to ease his grip on his head, ungloved hands white knuckled even half conscious and in pain. It wasn't until she had managed to loosen the grip and wipe away the blood (and she knew he was cold, but she hadn't realised how far that spread internally, having rarely seen the larger injured), sending a message for help through the rings did she notice the source of the blood.
Or more accurately, the protrusions sprouting from either side of his forehead.
A brief moment of horror washed through her- her mind creating scenarios of someone stabbing something into his head- she went to touch them, maybe, to see what they were, because that wasn't going into him holy shit they were coming out-, but before she could comprehend what they were or what had happened, Scott flinched away from her, a pained sound slipping from his throat Ambear doubted anyone had heard from him before.
It didn’t take her long to realise what they were, after, and she soon contacted everyone she could to get help, because she was not going to be able to move this guy by herself, and this was definitely a situation even nurse Violet's terrible skills could be of use for, if not supplies.
Scott had been asleep for a couple days since, having been given an extended nap for the sake of his body, and new found horns, taking this time to grow without interruption. His now taller body and continuously growing state (which had now slowed down) meant a custom bed had to be made by one of the many talented craftspeople amongst their cohort to suit the Ice Mages new taller stature.
Currently, Ambear and Pyro were waiting around his bed. Plenty of people had been through the infirmary within just two days, worried for their friend, causing the space to sometimes get a bit crowded. That, and news spread fast, and soon everyone knew just what was happening and wanted a glance at their friends new look before he woke up.
Because apparently, he was an Ice Giant.
Literally, too, not in the joking way they called the mage.
No, the baby Pyros honorary aunt and uncle found on the side of the road happened to be from an ancient race thought to only be myths by most and extinct by the rest.
Ambear sighed.
”You okay?” Said Pyromancer (ha!) asked from the chair next to the bed.
She shrugged. “Yeah, just… surprised I guess?”
“Yeah, that's fair. Believe me, I am too.”
“You really had no idea?”
They shook their head. ”No, not really. Scott was always…” always taller than most, always different in more ways than his hair and eyes, something odd about him. Not in him as a person, but the way he just felt… different. It had unsettled Pyro as a child, instinct sharper than most, and now they knew why. “I dunno.” Pyro shrugged. “He always had his quirks, but in a town like that everyone did. Sure he preferred the cold more than even most up north typically do, and definitely stayed in the snow a little too long at times, but some people are just like that, I guess.” Pyro looked down at their hands, calloused from building, and let out a long, heavy breath. “No one ever thought to question it, because why would we? He was aunt Tanali's kid, my best friend. He was the mayor's son, the guy everyone knew they could count on. We’re a tight knit community, so… I guess the proper answer was no one cared to question any of it. Something always felt a bit different, but….”
They shrugged, looking fondly over at their friend resting somewhat peacefully in his oversized bed and undersized clothes, somehow appearing small despite his newfound height. New, dark and glossy navy horns jut out just off of each brow, and a pile of books on folklore and legends and of various magical species sat on the side table next to him from a long night of research.
Ambear paused. ”Yeah, that’s fair.”
The two made eye contact, for a moment, and a brief set of chuckles spilled forth, filling the tense air.
“How’s your whole-“ she waved her hands in a dark and ‘spooky’ manner at Pyro's general everything, conscious of who may be listening, “-thing.”
“It’s… ill tell you later when we’re all out of here-“ somewhere more private, when Scott wakes “but it’s… better, around him.”
”That's definitely strange.”
He looked down, fidgeting with their sleeve. ”Yeah.”
“But good, right?” She sounded so hopeful, and Pyro couldn’t help but try to feel a little more themselves.
”I… hopefully, yes. It will be.” Because if the corruption seems adverse to Scott- and already doesn’t like the cold… maybe this time it’ll be something.
Once more, they looked at their giant friend, and settled in to wait a bit more, unwilling to move until his eyes opened.
Only this time, the air felt a little lighter. This time, they felt a little more hope.
Scott would wake up, and just maybe this change could be the good kind they needed.