Glacion Novels & Stories

Dulcie groaned and I giggled in return. "Hey you two, would you care to share with the class whatever it is you're talking and giggling about?" The teacher addressed Dulcie and me. Her stern, grey eyes were fixated on us and so was the whole class's attention. There was pin-drop silence as the whole class awaited our response. "I-was explaining to her the dangers of glaciers. For instance, glaciers can lead to death. A good example is in the movie, Titanic. The ship was hit by a glacier and as a result, it split in half and sank." Dulcie explained.

That power-hungry asshole. Mt. Glacier was even whiter, and colder than usual. A human couldn't survive twenty minutes there. It was vastly ice, a different kind of ice that was far colder than average. The mountain itself was covered with unbreakable ice which had been thickened by the pioneer vampires. It had scribbles of sacred drawing, each needing its own spell to crack it. I snapped out of my thoughts, when Alex was finally alone. I pulled him into the shadows, and placed the edge of my blade against his neck.

"WOW! Look, is that real water? Why is it so blue?" I stared at the lake, its crystal-like colour glistening in the sunlight. "That's because the water comes from glaciers, Max," I said. Max blinked. "What's a glacier? "A huge piece of ice on a high mountain. It melts and makes the lake water look blue like this." Pascha answered. Max looked up to his Dad, looking mesmerized. "Whoa... So it's like a giant ice water?" "You could say that." We started walking down the path to the lake, passing through a meadow with yellow and purple wildflowers blooming along the side of the path.

Her stomach was growling. "I want to take this moment to say thank you to our guests for coming and bringing to light the reason behind our attacks. Alpha Eli and I have been in talks with the other packs, and there seems to be no other firstborn she wolfs that we need to worry about. However, the Rogue King still poses a threat to our pack. As much as our warriors are keeping them at bay, we still need to fight and take the King down. Since Alpha Eli and Luna Riley have marked each other, congratulations, by the way, Luna Riley is no longer a risk. Penelope, on the other hand, is. I hope we can join together the packs and protect what is ours."

"That is nonsense! That pass is a sheer drop, Luna. It has been surveyed a thousand times." I ignored the General, keeping my eyes fixed on Demetrius. His expression was impossible to read, a blank slate of expectation. "It is a sheer drop now," I clarified, moving my finger slightly to trace an almost invisible fissure in the stone carving. "But the ancient rogues did not use the mountains. They used the water. The flow of the glacial melt used to follow this fault line, eroding the back wall over millennia."

Antarctica. The Sub-Glacial Lake. Depth: 4,250 Meters. The Ancient Ruins. The mechanical sentinel made no sound as it moved. Its body, forged from a dark, obsidian-like material, glided effortlessly above the stone floor. At the end of its multi-jointed arm, a plasma blade hummed with a terrifying frequency, heating the freezing air around it until it distorted. "Scatter!" Sebastian roared over the comms.

The descent into the Deep-Frost felt less like a journey and more like a fall from grace. The transport hummed with a strained, high-pitched frequency as we dove into the sub-glacial canyons beyond the First City. Here, the air was so cold it didn't just bite; it attempted to crystallize the very breath in our lungs. Outside the reinforced viewports, the indigo quartz of the city had given way to "Elder-Ice"—a substance so ancient it was blacker than the void, translucent only when the transport's floodlights caught the frozen remains of leviathans trapped within its depths.

“How did you get there? I didn’t see you move.” “Because I stayed in your shadow.” I skated back to centre. “When I was a kid we called it the Ghost Lead. You don’t fight strength with strength, you fight senses. If a defender can’t see the hit coming, he can’t brace for it. If he can’t see the pass, he can’t intercept it.” For the next two hours, the rink became something else entirely.

No real breathing room for anything else. But when we finally crested that jagged, frozen ridge, staring down at the Great Glacier, the political animosity just… vanished. "Moon Goddess protect us," Caleb murmured, his heavy dark-brown wolf shape shifting awkwardly, like the deep snow was personally rude to him. Out past everything, stretching across the horizon of the frozen wasteland, was the apocalypse.

The silver did not flow like water; it crept like a cooling scab. From the catwalk of the broken gate-house the northern face of the Frost-Peak looked less like a mountain and more like a split body part. The mile-wide crack that had ripped through the granite during the fence’s discharge was a jagged raw wound weeping a high-density matrix of native silver that hissed as it met the three-foot drifts of winter snow. Where the liquid metal touched the ice there were no clouds of steam, a low continuous tick-tick-tick of crystallization, the valley floor hardening into a vast shiny mirror that bounced the gray morning light back into the sky.