Chapter 390: Into the Storm
The first snowflakes fell before the end of the week. By the beginning of the second, the low hills and forests were blanketed in almost a foot of cold, wet snow. It turned to mud beneath the boots of the last light company, a fifty-foot-wide scar of brown in the world of white.
It was cold and miserable, but the weather only got worse the closer we got to the heart of the Brithlite Kingdom. The anomaly’s power was unlike anything I’d seen before, even the avatars it sent to answer my call. Millions of tiny threads of mana covered the sky, blotting out the sun and knitting a tapestry of winter clouds. Every few hours, a particularly strong current of mana flowed through the sky, followed quickly by a short blizzard. The snow fell so hard during those times the army was forced to wait it out, unable to see the soldier just a rank ahead.
In a normal army, the extreme conditions would have left thousands dead of cold and exposure, but in Enusia, men and women were strengthened with mana. The weakest among the Last Light Company was already third level, past the point where mundane temperatures were a concern. I, on the other hand, had the body of a first-level mage, and was forced to use my magic to shield myself from the bitter winter elements. It was a strain on my soul I didn’t need, limiting the amount of time and effort I could use to study and teach Sarra and Jenna soulcasting.
It was on the second day of our third week from fleeing Bluegate Keep that it happened. I rode at the front of the company beside Korra and the Star Guard, my long, crimson hair streaming behind me in the winter gusts. The snow melted an inch before colliding with my face, but the residual moisture left me damp and cold.
As we crested a gently sloping hill, a faint tingle of unrest rippled through my mana. I raised my head and looked around our surroundings, but the sky chose that particular moment to blast us with a white-out blizzard.
"Gith," I called above the whine of the wind, "Something’s coming!"
The ranger, visible only as a faint silhouette in the storm, perked up. His soul shone brightly for a moment as he channeled his ability, searching for any presence nearby. Since working with Korra on her magic arts, I’d gotten better at seeing the delicate weave of abilities, and I could just make out the faint network of thread-like mana sprang out from his soul, a spiderweb with him in its center.
The agitated energy in my soul increased, a whisper of chaos and infernal mana. I opened my mouth to call a warning, but Gith was faster.
"Demons!" he cried.
The rest of the Star Guard tensed, drawing their weapons, but his voice was swallowed by the blizzard, failing to alert anyone beyond us. Unfazed, the ranger drew an arrow back and used one of our newly invented magic arts, a fourth-level art called Flare Shot. The arrow shot into the sky with a low hum, streaming a brilliant trail of flame in its wake. Once it reached the zenith of its trajectory, it exploded in a shower of reds and yellows. The ensuing fireball evaporated the falling snow for a hundred feet in all directions and its light penetrated the flurries for double that. But it wasn’t the show of fire that would warn the army, but the resulting concussive shockwave that rolled over our forces.
"What is it?" Bethiv’s voice floated over the storm, coming from the head of the column a few dozen feet away.