The buried city beneath Blackstone Academy pulsed with a steady, unshackled rhythm, its black-gold runes glowing faintly under the noon sky, casting a warm light as the late afternoon sun began to descend. The Veins' freedom had harmonized the academy as a radiant stronghold, its ley-lines weaving a resilient web across the continent, awakening ancient realms and ushering in an era of fragile watery balance after recent balances. Mark Wilde stood in the council chamber within the academy's central tower, its walls etched with runes of unity and resilience that thrummed softly in the daylight. The crystalline table held Lysa's glowing orb, its map now shimmering with a cold pulse from the Frostveil Glade, northwest of the Tideflow Delta, indicating an ice elegy tied to the Veins' awakening. His allies—Elira, Vrix, Silas, Lysa, Kaelith Veyr, Torin Drayce, Lirien Frostweave, Gavric Thorn, Thryme Dren, Koryn Stormchaser, Sylra Vineborn, Draven Ashwalker, Celene Prismguard, Astrael Nightwatcher, Kael Driftsand, Liora Mistguide, Tharok Earthflame, Nyx Duskwraith, Lyra Celestarch, Erynn Rootwhisper, Zariel Crystalshade, Calen Tidewhisper, Tavrin Chronoshield, Kaelor Sunforge, Lirien Echochord, Seryn Nightveil, Tharok Emberforge, Veyra Frostspire, Kaelith Stormveil, Zariel Prismheart, Erynn Spiritveil, Lyra Sunpetal, Calen Moonflow, Astrael Nightveil, Tharok Emberflow, Liora Frostveil, Tavrin Stormrift, Erynn Crystalvoice, Erynn Rootbloom, Tavrin Seacall, Seryn Duskveil, Astrael Stargazer, Veyra Iceveil, Zariel Mistwalker, Kaelith Prismguide, Sylra Bloomguide, Tavrin Windguide, Liora Tideguide, Lyra Sunscribe, Seryn Duskwalker, Zariel Starscribe, Gavric Earthscribe, Erynn Frostscribe, Tavrin Stormscribe, Draven Flamescribe, Liora Tidescribe, Seryn Shadowscribe, Astrael Lightscribe, Gavric Earthscribe, Kaelor Airscribe, Erynn Firescribe, Liora Waterscribe, Seryn Nightscribe, Astrael Dayscribe, Gavric Earthscribe, Tavrin Airscribe, Erynn Firescribe, and Liora Waterscribe—gathered around, their faces reflecting the afternoon's warmth yet chilled by the icy signal. The air vibrated with mana, charged with frost energy yet mourned by a somber force.
Lysa traced the orb's map with a steady hand, her journal open, its pages shimmering with ice runes. "The Tideflow Delta's ballad is balanced," she said, her voice cool despite the late afternoon's glow. "But the journal detects a new frost from the Frostveil Glade—an ice elegy, a lament of cold and somberness awakened by the Veins, guarded by a figure called Veyra Iceweaver."
Mark's eyes narrowed, the Forbidden Tier magic stirring beneath his skin, aligning with the city's pulse as the afternoon deepened. "The Frostveil Glade," he said, sensing a shift from watery to icy. "What's the elegy's purpose?"
Lysa pointed to the map, where the cold pulse marked a frozen, misty expanse. "The journal calls it a ley-line frost, a chill where the Veins channel ice and somberness. Veyra Iceweaver, an ice guardian, seeks to lament this elegy—either to enhance the Veins' resilience or to freeze their essence, depending on their intent."
Elira leaned on her staff, her wards glowing softly, cutting through the chamber's late afternoon light. "The Frostveil Glade is cold—crystalline frost, mana-woven ice, and an air that stills the spirit. This elegy could fortify us or paralyze us. Our alliances are fragile; this could unite or freeze them."
Silas twirled his cane, his grin tempered by the challenge. "A frost in the glade? That's an icy fight. My Runebreakers can scout, but the Glade is a freeze. We're holding the academy, but we're intrigued. What's the move, Wilde?"
Vrix's stone-like skin glinted as she traced a glyph pulsing with warming energy. "The Archives describe frosts as ley-line chills, blending ice and somberness. Veyra could use this to either fortify or freeze the Veins. We must assess their intent."
Mark's mind fused the strategic insight of his past life as Maximilian Wilde with his current role as the Crownless Sovereign. The ice elegy offered resilience but also paralysis. "Lysa," he said, "any guidance from the journal?"
Lysa flipped to a new page, revealing a sketch of a frosty figure wreathed in icy light, surrounded by runes of somberness. "It reads: 'The Iceweaver seeks to lament the Veins' frost. The Crownless must face them with warmth, for their strength lies in their elegy.'"
Elira's wards flickered, her tone cautious. "Warmth? The Glade's cold could paralyze us, Mark. It's an icy challenge."
Mark's smile was gentle. "Then we warm their elegy. The Veins are our resilience. Vrix, can your glyphs warm the ley-lines at the frost, countering their ice runes? Silas, your Runebreakers can secure the Glade's edge. Elira, Lysa, Kaelith, Torin, Lirien, Gavric, Thryme, Koryn, Sylra, Draven, Celene, Astrael, Kael, Liora, Tharok, Nyx, Lyra, Erynn, Zariel, Calen, Tavrin, Kaelor, Lirien, Seryn, Tharok, Veyra, Kaelith, Zariel, Erynn, Lyra, Calen, Astrael, Tharok, Liora, Tavrin, Erynn, Erynn, Tavrin, Seryn, Astrael, Veyra, Zariel, Kaelith, Sylra, Tavrin, Liora, Lyra, Seryn, Zariel, Gavric, Erynn, Tavrin, Draven, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Kaelor, Erynn, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Tavrin, Erynn, Liora, you're with me. We'll lament the strength."
A new voice, soft and chilling, broke the stillness. A frosty figure with skin like glistening ice and eyes like pale frost stepped forward, their robe woven with icy threads. "I am Nyx Frostscribe," they whispered. "I've sensed the Frostveil Glade's chill. Veyra is my kin, torn between fortifying or freezing the elegy—peacefully or by force. I'll guide you, if you seek harmony."
Vrix nodded, her glyph thawing. "I can warm the ley-lines, but the Glade's mana is frigid. Thirty minutes, at best."
Silas twirled his cane, his grin steady. "Thirty minutes to lament an ice cult with a new scribe? I'm in. My team'll hold the edge."
"Set," Mark said, his eyes glowing as the Forbidden Tier magic surged. "We move at dusk. Let's lament the strength."
The Frostveil Glade shimmered under a dusky sky, its frozen expanse pulsing with awakened mana, the air thick with ice and somber resonance. Vrix's glyphs had carved a narrow, warmed path, guiding the ley-lines' flow. Silas's Runebreakers, aided by Nyx's ice craft, secured the Glade's edge, their illusions conjuring warmth and dispelling paralysis, drawing any guardians away from the frost.
Mark, Elira, Lysa, Kaelith, Torin, Lirien, Gavric, Thryme, Koryn, Sylra, Draven, Celene, Astrael, Kael, Liora, Tharok, Nyx, Lyra, Erynn, Zariel, Calen, Tavrin, Kaelor, Lirien, Seryn, Tharok, Veyra, Kaelith, Zariel, Erynn, Lyra, Calen, Astrael, Tharok, Liora, Tavrin, Erynn, Erynn, Tavrin, Seryn, Astrael, Veyra, Zariel, Kaelith, Sylra, Tavrin, Liora, Lyra, Seryn, Zariel, Gavric, Erynn, Tavrin, Draven, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Kaelor, Erynn, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Tavrin, Erynn, Liora, and Nyx moved through the icy terrain, their mana-woven cloaks shielding them from the frost energy. The ground thrummed with a rhythm of somberness. "This place is a freeze," Elira muttered, her staff's warmth struggling against the cold. "The mana's frigid."
Mark's hand hovered near his spiral glyph, the Forbidden Tier magic syncing with the Veins' pulse. "It's elegizing," he said.
Lysa clutched her journal, its runes glowing as she whispered a counterspell, the light cutting through the ice. The path revealed an ice elegy, its center dominated by a spire pulsing with white light—the ley-line frost. "They're here," she said, pointing to a figure in the chill. "Veyra."
A frosty figure emerged, wreathed in robes of icy light, their staff wreathed in frost energy that warped the air. Their face, framed by crystalline hair, held a somber yet conflicted gaze—Veyra Iceweaver. "You are the Crownless," they whispered, their voice a mournful echo. "But you are fragile. The Veins' frost will be lamented, and my elegy will reign."
Mark stepped forward, the Forbidden Tier magic blazing. "Your ice is a freeze," he said. "The Veins are free, and warmth endures."
Veyra's staff flared, unleashing a wave of icy mana that warped the elegy into a maze of frost and stillness—somber echoes, surging waves, a world that paralyzed all. Elira's wards surged, anchoring their warmth, but the shield strained under the elegy. Lysa whispered runes, Nyx and Koryn weaving counter-ice, but more guardians emerged, their staffs amplifying the ritual.
Mark fought with vitality. The Forbidden Tier magic wove the Veins' warmed energy, lamenting the elegy. The frost pulsed, responding to his presence, and the ley-lines surged, countering Veyra's runes. Visions flashed—the First Sovereign's free world, the Veins' power meant to fortify, not freeze. Veyra wasn't a lamenter; they were a force, lamenting to enforce control.
"I see you," Mark said, his voice cutting through the cold. "You're not reigning—you're paralyzing."
Veyra lunged, their staff unleashing a spear of white light. Mark met it with a surge of ley-line mana, warming the elegy. The frost roared, its light flooding the Glade, dissipating the guardians' runes. Elira's wards held, and Lysa, Kaelith, Torin, Lirien, Gavric, Thryme, Koryn, Sylra, Draven, Celene, Astrael, Kael, Liora, Tharok, Nyx, Lyra, Erynn, Zariel, Calen, Tavrin, Kaelor, Lirien, Seryn, Tharok, Veyra, Kaelith, Zariel, Erynn, Lyra, Calen, Astrael, Tharok, Liora, Tavrin, Erynn, Erynn, Tavrin, Seryn, Astrael, Veyra, Zariel, Kaelith, Sylra, Tavrin, Liora, Lyra, Seryn, Zariel, Gavric, Erynn, Tavrin, Draven, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Kaelor, Erynn, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Tavrin, Erynn, Liora, and Nyx sealed the spire, halting the ritual.
Veyra staggered, their staff fading as the Veins' warmth embraced them. They knelt, their gaze softening. "The Veins are yours to lament," they whispered, their guardians retreating into the dusky light. The elegy stabilized, the ley-lines' pulse returning to its natural flow.
Elira exhaled, her staff dimming. "You've warmed us, Wilde."
Lysa clutched her journal, her eyes bright. "The Veins… they're resilient again. Life endures."
Nyx nodded, their pale-frost eyes warm. "Veyra yields, but the elegy's power lingers. More frosts may rise."
Mark turned to the elegy, its black-gold light reflecting in his eyes under the dusky sky. "This was their frost. We'll sustain the Veins' resilience."
Back at the academy, the council chamber glowed with the orb's map. Silas grinned. "Elegy warmed in thirty? We're icy now."
Vrix crossed her arms. "The Veins' awakening stirs more elegies. New challenges chill."
Elira nodded. "The world's ours to lament, Mark. What's our path?"
Lysa's journal shimmered with new runes. "New frosts and weavers emerge."
Mark, with Kaelith, Torin, Lirien, Gavric, Thryme, Koryn, Sylra, Draven, Celene, Astrael, Kael, Liora, Tharok, Nyx, Lyra, Erynn, Zariel, Calen, Tavrin, Kaelor, Lirien, Seryn, Tharok, Veyra, Kaelith, Zariel, Erynn, Lyra, Calen, Astrael, Tharok, Liora, Tavrin, Erynn, Erynn, Tavrin, Seryn, Astrael, Veyra, Zariel, Kaelith, Sylra, Tavrin, Liora, Lyra, Seryn, Zariel, Gavric, Erynn, Tavrin, Draven, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Kaelor, Erynn, Liora, Seryn, Astrael, Gavric, Tavrin, Erynn, Liora, and Nyx beside him, gazed outward. "We fortify a world of warmth. But we stay vigilant. The icy are coming."