Chapter 148: [148] Beneath the Ice, a Throne
The morning brought no warmth, only the pale gray light that passed for dawn in Frostfall. Xavier crouched at the cave entrance, studying the valley spread below them. Snow had fallen during the night, covering their tracks and erasing any sign of the dimensional tear that had brought them here.
His breath misted in the air as he scanned the treeline for movement. No Vorthaks. No Thornbeasts. Nothing but endless white and the skeletal fingers of pine branches reaching toward an indifferent sky.
Xavier pushed to his feet, snow crunching under his boots. They needed to move soon. Ashley required proper healing, the kind that only came from temple priests or skilled medics. Their supplies wouldn’t last another day.
Behind him, voices drifted from the cave—Naomi’s practical tones mixing with the occasional soft response from Ashley. At least she was conscious now. That was progress.
Xavier took one last look at the valley, then turned back toward the—
What curious creatures these mortals are.
The thought slammed into his mind like a pickaxe through ice. Cold. Alien. Definitely not his own.
Xavier’s hand flew to the back of his neck, fingers pressing against cloth and leather as if he could somehow touch the mark burning beneath. The foreign consciousness pressed deeper, examining his thoughts like a scholar dissecting a specimen.
So much fear. So much... attachment. How do they function with such limitations?
"No." Xavier spoke aloud, his voice sharp in the mountain air. He forced his thoughts inward, building walls around his mind. "Get out."
The presence recoiled slightly, surprised by his resistance. For a moment, Xavier felt something vast and ancient regard him with renewed interest. Then, mercifully, it withdrew.
Xavier sagged against the cave wall, staring at his own hands. They trembled with a life of their own, his fingers refusing to clench into a fist. The mark wasn’t just tracking him. It was trying to understand him. To learn from him.