The landscape changed gradually as Lyra and Valencia flew north. Green valleys gave way to rocky highlands, which in turn surrendered to snow-covered tundra. Emberwyn's flames burned brighter in the cold, while Solaris seemed almost to revel in it, his fire taking on a crystalline quality that matched the ice below.
"We're entering the borderlands now," Valencia called over the wind. "From here on, we must be vigilant. The Frostborn have watchers everywhere."
Lyra pulled her phoenix-blessed cloak tighter. Despite Emberwyn's warmth, she could feel the unnatural chill of this place. This wasn't ordinary cold—it was malicious, hungry, actively seeking to drain the heat from her bones.
They landed at dusk in a shallow cave, one of many that dotted these frozen hills. Valencia produced supplies from her pack—dried meat, hard bread, and a small metal sphere that, when activated, created a sphere of warmth around them.
"Phoenix-forged," Valencia explained. "It'll keep us comfortable and mask our heat signatures from any Frostborn scouts. We can't use our phoenixes' full flames here without drawing attention."
"Tell me about the Frostborn," Lyra asked as they ate. "The temple texts were vague."
Valencia stared into the warming sphere's glow. "They're ancient—older than phoenixes, some say. When the world was young and fire first sparked into existence, the Frostborn were born as its opposite. Where fire brings life and warmth, they bring stillness and death. They hate us because we represent everything they're not."
"And they guard the First Temple because?"
"Because they conquered it long ago, driving out the original Keepers. The Phoenix Crown was left behind in the chaos. The Frostborn can't destroy it—it's too powerful—but they can keep anyone from claiming it."
Lyra absorbed this. "So we're walking into a fortress held by our natural enemies, to steal their most prized possession."
"Essentially, yes." Valencia smiled grimly. "Your mother would have loved this mission. She always did prefer impossible odds."
"Did you love her?" The question escaped before Lyra could stop it. "I mean, as more than just a fellow Keeper?"
Valencia's expression softened. "Is it that obvious? Yes, I loved Aria. She was brilliant, fierce, funny, and absolutely maddening in her refusal to acknowledge danger. When she died..." She paused, collecting herself. "When she died, a part of me died too. But Solaris helped me carry on. That's what phoenixes do—they remind us that even after death, life continues. Fire endures."
"I wish I'd known her better," Lyra whispered. "I was so young when she left for that final battle."
"She spoke of you constantly. Her little flame, she called you. She wanted desperately to come home, to see you grow up. But duty called, and Aria never turned away from duty."
"Neither will I," Lyra vowed.
They traveled for three more days through increasingly hostile terrain. The temperature dropped so low that even phoenix fire couldn't fully ward off the chill. On the fourth day, they found the first sign of the Frostborn—a patrol of three crystalline beings that glided across the snow like living glaciers.
Lyra and Valencia hid behind an ice ridge while the creatures passed. Up close, the Frostborn were terrifying—vaguely humanoid but made entirely of jagged ice, with cores of frozen darkness where hearts should be. They made no sound as they moved, and left no tracks. It was as if the winter itself had taken form and walked.
"They're searching for something," Emberwyn observed in Lyra's mind. "Their patterns suggest heightened alert."
"They know we're coming," Valencia confirmed. "The question is how."
Their answer came that night. As they camped in another cave, a voice echoed from the darkness—a voice like breaking ice and dying hope.
"Phoenix-keepers. Your warmth betrays you. Your fires cannot be hidden here, in our domain."
Lyra and Valencia were on their feet instantly, weapons drawn. Emberwyn and Solaris blazed to life, their combined radiance pushing back the cave's shadows. Standing at the entrance was a Frostborn unlike any Valencia had described—this one was massive, easily nine feet tall, with a crown of ice spikes and armor of pure frozen hatred.
"I am Glaciem, Warden of the Eternal Winter," the creature intoned. "You seek the Phoenix Crown. You will not reach it. You will die here, and your fires will be extinguished forever."
"We don't want to fight you," Lyra said, though she kept her sword raised. "We seek the Crown only to prevent a greater darkness from returning. The Shadow King—"
"Means nothing to us. Your wars of light and darkness are irrelevant. Only the cold matters. Only the stillness. You represent the chaos of flame, and chaos must be eliminated."
Glaciem raised one massive arm, and the temperature plummeted. Ice formed on the cave walls, creeping toward them with unnatural speed. Valencia and Lyra backed against each other, their phoenixes flaring desperately to hold back the encroaching frost.
"This is what we trained for," Valencia muttered. "Remember—Frostborn are vulnerable at their cores. Aim for the darkness inside the ice."
"Easier said than done," Lyra replied, but she was already moving. Years of training took over. She feinted left, then rolled right, coming up with her phoenix-blessed sword blazing. The strike connected with Glaciem's arm, and the Frostborn howled—a sound like avalanches and shattering glaciers.
Valencia followed up with a blast of concentrated phoenix fire from her hands, a technique Lyra hadn't yet mastered. The flames hit Glaciem's chest, forcing him back a step.
But only one step.
"Your fire is strong," Glaciem admitted. "But here, in the heart of winter, ice always wins."
The Frostborn slammed both fists into the ground. The entire cave shook, and suddenly they were surrounded by ice spikes erupting from every surface. Lyra barely dodged one that would have impaled her. Valencia wasn't as lucky—a spike grazed her leg, and Lyra saw her mentor stumble.
"Valencia!" Lyra screamed.
"I'm fine! Focus!"
But she wasn't fine. Blood stained the ice where she'd been hit, and Lyra could see her mentor's leg giving out. They were losing. Glaciem was too powerful here, too perfectly adapted to this environment.
Unless...
"Emberwyn," Lyra thought desperately. "How much heat can you generate? Maximum output?"
"Enough to melt this entire cave. But it would be dangerous. I might—"
"Do it. Valencia, get Solaris to do the same. We're melting this whole mountain if we have to."
Valencia understood immediately. Despite her injury, she grinned. "Aria would approve. On three. One. Two. Three!"
Emberwyn and Solaris erupted with power beyond anything Lyra had thought possible. It was as if two suns had been born inside the cave. The heat was overwhelming, even to those bonded to the phoenixes. Ice melted instantly, becoming steam. The cave walls glowed red-hot.
And Glaciem, lord of winter, trapped in an instant furnace, began to scream.
The Frostborn's icy armor melted, revealing the core of darkness beneath. Lyra, squinting against the unbearable light and heat, drove her sword into that darkness with all her strength.
Glaciem shattered. Not melted—shattered, like glass struck by a hammer. Fragments of ice scattered across the steaming cave floor, quickly turning to water.
The phoenixes dimmed their flames, and blessed coolness returned. Lyra rushed to Valencia's side. "Your leg—"
"Will heal. Phoenix bonds accelerate recovery, remember?" Valencia smiled weakly. "That was brilliant thinking, Lyra. Using our enemy's environment against him."
"I learned from the best," Lyra said, helping Valencia to her feet. "Can you travel?"
"I can fly. But we need to move quickly. That much heat will have alerted every Frostborn in the region. We have maybe an hour before an army descends on us."
They emerged from the cave to find the sky filled with aurora—brilliant sheets of green and purple light that danced across the stars. It was beautiful and terrifying, because Lyra knew what it meant. The Frostborn used aurora as communication. The entire frozen wasteland now knew intruders had killed one of their wardens.
"The First Temple is three hours north," Valencia said grimly. "We won't make it without another fight. Maybe several."
"Then we fight," Lyra replied, climbing onto Emberwyn's back. "We didn't come this far to give up now."
As they took to the air, Lyra looked back at the steaming cave one last time. She'd killed a Frostborn warden—a creature of immense power and ancient evil. A week ago, she'd been a girl playing at being a hero. Now she was a warrior, tested in true battle.
But the hardest tests still lay ahead. The First Temple awaited, and with it, the Phoenix Crown. If they could claim it. If they survived.
If the Frostborn army didn't catch them first.
Lyra touched her mother's pendant, now warm not just from Emberwyn but from her own inner fire. "I'm coming, Mother," she whispered. "I'm coming to finish what you started. I promise."