Frost cracked beneath Seraphina's boots as she crossed the frozen bridge leading into the Hollowing Deep—a chasm so wide it was said to split the world in two. Snow drifted from the jagged cliffs above, dissolving into the mist before it could touch the ancient ice below. The air tasted of steel and sorrow.
Mira walked beside her, silent but tense. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her blade, eyes scanning every shadow. The farther they traveled into the Deep, the less the world felt real. Colors dimmed. Sound dulled. Even memory began to fray.
But Seraphina's purpose burned hotter than any fire.
She had come to seal the Frozen Oath—a forgotten pact older than kings and curses, buried beneath myth and time. It was said that those who swore the Oath gained a power drawn from the frost itself, but at a price that could not be unmade.
As they reached the heart of the chasm, the ice shifted beneath them. A glowing altar rose from the glacier's core, etched with runes so ancient they pulsed with primordial magic. The wind whispered in forgotten tongues.
"This is madness," Mira muttered. "You don't even know what you'll become."
Seraphina stepped forward, removing one glove. Her breath ghosted in the air.
"I'm done becoming," she said. "Now, I decide."
She pressed her palm to the altar.
Ice shot up her arm, searing cold into her bones. Visions tore through her mind: fire raining from the skies, her mother screaming, Valen bleeding in a field of white. The world cracked and reformed around her.
But she didn't let go.
The glacier split with a sound like thunder, and a figure emerged from within the ice—an ancient spirit clad in armor of frost and sorrow. Its eyes were deep pools of time.
"Do you vow to wield this power not in fear, but in vengeance?" the spirit asked.
"I vow it."
"And do you accept the price?"
Seraphina hesitated.
Then: "Yes."
The spirit touched her brow.
The ice blazed blue.
Power roared through her, cruel and beautiful. Her scream echoed across the Deep.