A Frozen Destiny Read online

  A FROZEN DESTINY

  ALAN MUNDLE

  Copyright ©2019 Alan Mundle

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  Cover Design Copyright ©2019 Tony Elias, White Goose Design

  www.whitegoose.design

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my family and friends, you are my rock and this story is as much for you as it is for me. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I hope this will make you all proud. Thank you for absolutely everything!

  A very big thank you to Tony Elias, my friend and wonderful artist for producing the magnificent cover!

  To Theo Howarth for going out of his way to help publicise this story, thank you so much!

  To all my teachers and mentors back home who taught me what is important in writing. Thank you for my wings!

  A very special thanks to Matt Zarley, for reminding me how to be hopeful.

  A very big thanks to everyone, above and bellow, far and wide, who gave their time to go through the whole book, you were the best army of editors ever!

  Christopher Brightwell, Freddie Gibson, Lorna Humm, Katrina Leith, Stephen Mayo, Ronan McCaughey, Raymond Mundle, Gregory Reed, Jason Silva, Grayham Tindal.

  In loving memory of Sheilah Rae

  PROLOGUE

  Though the earthshaking had stopped, Gorvin still clutched on to his wife for dear life. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since it had all begun, but he didn't care. All that mattered, the only thing that existed for him now was Lorana's presence. Knowing that she was still alive, that he could feel her trembling body against his was a lifeline.

  'Is it over?' she asked.

  Gorvin wasn't a coward. His life on the surface had brought great hardship, from his people in the mountain and from the Humans they lived with. But at that moment, he was afraid to open his eyes, to see what horror was before them. But he had to make sure his wife was safe. Slowly, he dared to open his eyes. Nothing. Pure darkness was all he could sense, which he knew was impossible. When it all started, it wasn't even midday, and no matter how much time had passed, Gorvin was sure that whatever was happening had not taken a full day.

  'Gorvin?' Lorana's voice sounded in the darkness. He still held her with his thick arms and felt her struggling as she attempted to rise. 'What's happened, husband? I can't see anything.'

  Gorvin didn't know at that moment if he was relieved or scared by the knowledge that his wife was as blind as he was. Slowly, he took one hand off her arms and reached above him. Quickly, his fingers found the underside of their dinner table. Running his hand along the wood, he felt good knowing that they were both still in their home at least. It gave him the strength to take the next step. He released Lorana from his grip and moved from under the table.

  'Please, love, don't go! We don't know what's happened!'

  But Gorvin was determined. 'I won't hide like a Dwarfling. I need to know what's going on.'

  In light or darkness, Gorvin knew his house well enough to know where he was. His fingers found the top of the table, ran them along the wooden surface and soon discovered their large bowls. He knew that he was on the side of the table closest to their front door. At that moment, he also knew that a small amount of time had passed since it all began, the bowls were still warm, and the smell of Lorana's stew was still strong in the air, despite having been spilt across the table when the earth shook. Carefully, he got up and walked forward, his arms outstretched, feet smashing through the debris of their fallen possessions. He extended his strong hands and quickly found the doorframe, the handle soon after. He pulled it open and felt fresh air hit his face, another good sign that the world was still there. Before he walked through, he reached down beside his door and found an open box with some spare tools he kept for his forge. Life as a Smith may not be the most glamorous, but it guaranteed protection. Being careful not to cut himself on anything sharp, he found a hammer and turned back in the direction of the table.

  'I'm going to try and find someone. Stay there until I get back.'

  'You'd better!' stated Lorana, her voice angry and frightened.

  With that, Gorvin walked out his door. He couldn't understand what was happening. Even if all the street-fires had gone out, his eyes should at least have been able to see something in the town. He sniffed the air and was sure it was still early in the day. What happened to the suns, he wondered. He could hear nothing. If others like Gorvin and his wife had come around as they had, he should have been able to hear some signs of panic about the town. But an even bigger question started to drum in the Smith’s head. Where are the Humans? It was strange to think of them not running around their town, trying to maintain order, keeping him and the rest of the 'Dwarves' in line. He didn't like their name for his kind much, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  'Hello! Is anyone there?' he called.

  Silence. If everyone had left the town, he should be able to hear the sound of the windmill or even the nearby river that ran down from the great mountain of Mordabinn and through the street. But there was nothing. He wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, but at that moment, Gorvin was scared. Of course, nothing could have prepared him for when it all started. They were both eating dinner, but he couldn't say what they were talking about. What stuck in his memory were the windows shattering in an instant, quickly followed by the uncontrollable need to hold their ears. They had both riled around in pain, but what chilled Gorvin to the core was that everything in his vision was getting brighter. Without really knowing why he grabbed his wife and brought them both under their table, Lorana screaming to the Great Rock to save them. Gorvin still didn't know if it had heard her. It was unfathomable to think of he and Lorana as the only ones left alive in the world. He kept walking forward, waving his metal hammer around, desperate to knock something over, to hear something else than the harshness of his breath. And then it happened.

  As he continued staring through the darkness, Gorvin was suddenly aware that he could see the outline in his out-stretched tool and realised he could partially make out his hands. He turned his head back and forth, desperate to see something, anything else. Slowly and inexplicably, light started to return to the world. He began to see the road he was on, the features of the stone buildings began to appear, could begin to hear the distant, familiar sound of the mill and the following of the river's water. But what he saw next nearly had him wishing for the darkness again.

  The whole street was slowly filling with other Dwarves. Gorvin tried to make out their faces. He wasn't sure, but the blank and confused looks in their eyes told him that they were just as lost as he was. As his mind and eyes sharpened, something knocked straight into him. He turned round to find a large dog pressing its paws against him and determined to bark his ears off. Gorvin gave a loud bark of his own that sent the animal running away, its owner's rope trailing behind it. He watched it run across the road, just in time to be flattened by a pair of horses pulling a wooden carriage with no driver. The Dwarves down the street leapt for cover as the horses made to plough straight through them. The carriage came to a corner, but with no one behind the reins, it spun off its wheels and smashed into the nearest house, taking the poor horses to the ground. The Dwarves on the street ran from the chaos in Gorvin's direction. He watched their approach, stunned in silence. As he watched, he saw many of them tripping over things on the ground. Sure enough, he looked around to see many things dumped around the usually tidy streets, baskets of food left dropped and scattered, cages of chickens turned over, some of them dead, some squawking their heads off. But one
thing stood out amongst all the rest of everything left scattered around. Clothes. Whole heaps of them scattered everywhere, dresses, shoes, hats and all of them Human. Gorvin lifted his foot to find himself steeping on a shirt, to thin for a Dwarf, but just big enough for a Human child.

  'Gorvin!' He turned round to see his wife at the door. The couple ran to each other and embraced. Gorvin knew at that moment that, whatever had happened, at least his immediate world was safe. 'What's happening? Why can we see again?'

  'I don't know. And from what I can see, the others don't either.'

  Gorvin took his wife's hand and walked towards the nearest Dwarf he could find. His name was Estabin, a Trader from Mordabinn whose family also lived on the surface. Gorvin saw his wife Fareena too and their little one walking behind her, the same dazed expression on their faces. 'Estabin, my friend, speak with me. Do you have any idea what has happened?'

  The older Dwarf shook his head. 'No, good Gorvin, my sight has only just returned. I thought the world was gone, that the Great Rock had sent us all to the Void. Now I see us and others of our kind, but no Humans and no Griftins in the skies.' Gorvin looked up. The light from the sky hurt his eyes, but he could see enough to know that Estabin was right. He could make out nothing in the sky, no shadows of giant wings or distant sound of Griftin cries through the air. They were alone. 'I was dealing with the town mayor,' Estabin continued. 'He brought some goods to my shop that he had acquired on his last trip to the Elven forest to the North. He wanted to know what kind of price he could get for them when everything on my stalls started shaking, and my vision filled with light before I fell to the ground. I hung onto whatever I could while I heard my stock fall and smashed on the floor. I could hear the mayor and his companions screaming until they all just stopped at once.' Estabin shuddered as he recounted his tale. 'Surely, I will never forget the sounds they made till I die. For a long time, I thought I was dead. It wasn't until I heard my Fareena and little one crying that I knew we still lived. We found each other among a terrible darkness that seemed to have taken us all. But suddenly sight returned to us, and we heard your voice in the distance, which gave us the strength to get up to see what has befallen the world.'

  Looking back at his people, Gorvin could see the fear in everyone's eyes. The Dwarflings started to cry, desperate for their parents to comfort them, though they were just as stunned as everyone else. He was not a leader. He liked his life simple with no room for complications. As the crying of the little ones filled his ears, he knew he couldn't just stand idle. He needed to do something. 'Everyone, hear me!' All heads turned to him with eagerness, yearning for some direction. 'I don't know what has happened, but I do know what we need to do now. Estabin, take another Dwarf with you and run as fast as you can back to Mordabinn City. Our leaders need to know what has happened.'

  'But what has happened, Gorvin?' asked Estabin, his voice almost trembling. 'They might not believe us. I'm not even sure I believe it!'

  Gorvin turned to his friend and gripped his shoulder. 'They will know by the shock in your voice, my friend. Besides, the Great Mountain is not sealed completely from daylight. Someone inside must know something has happened already. When they discover trade is not flowing, they will plan to find out why. We cannot wait for them, brother. You have to make them believe!'

  Gorvin made to face the others. 'Everyone must stay together. Come to my house with Lorana. I and one other will search the town and help any other Dwarf we can find and, hopefully, at least one Human that can tell us what has happened.'

  Everyone started heading to Gorvin's home while Estabin and a younger Dwarf ran in the direction of Mordabinn. Gorvin kept his own helper, a Dwarf roughly his age that was a food Trader in the town market. He walked up to his forge at the side of his house and opened a wooden chest kept near the coal pit. He took two small swords from its contents and passed one to the Trader, who backed off at the sight of the steel.

  'Where did you get these?' he demanded. 'We aren't allowed to own weapons in the town. Hide them before the Humans punish us for having them!’ Gorvin grunted and thrust one of the blades into the Dwarf's hand. 'To the Void with that! Do you really want to run around the town unarmed after what has happened?'

  The Trader relented and tested the blade and its weight. Before they set off, Gorvin found Lorana.

  'Why do you have to go?' she asked. 'We can send someone else to look around.'

  'I have taken charge. Honour demands that I hold true to my word. Take heart, love. We will find out where the Humans are.'

  But he never did.

  FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS LATER

  CHAPTER 1

  THIN ICE

  'My son,

  You are young and ambitious, so I will forgive your tone of insolence in your last message. Other Scholars may be finding riches in more 'hospitable' places in the world, but there is something you must understand. You have been chosen by one of our people's most honoured Explorers and the Empire itself for a mission vital to the security of our kind. This prison you're building will secure the worst of our race and deter the foolhardy from following the same path.

  The Noble Lords would not let a fool be part of this venture. While you might find no riches in the ice, you make a name for yourself as a protector, something your mothers and fathers thank the Great Rock for every day. Take heart Torbin. You'll have plenty of time to find all the gold you want in the years to come. Goodbye my son, and may the Great Rock keep you.

  Oh, and quickly, you First Mother insists you send Serna's family an answer before she takes another husband.

  Your First Father,

  Rafarin.'

  Torbin knew his First Father was only trying to help, but instead, he just made matters worse. While he was pleased with bringing happiness to all his parents and family, the thought of sending a message back to Serna made him feel even colder. He didn't have a problem with her, she was enjoyable company and thought he could be happy with her. The only problem was Tergin. When Torbin first met Senra's First Husband, he formed the same opinion he still carried. The Dwarf was an idiot. Sure, he had a respectable name and more than enough gold, but the thought of sharing a bed with him made him sick. Though he loved both his fathers, Torbin had never taken with the old tradition of multiple partners. Even before his people claimed the surface, it was tradition to form stronger family structures for survival and wealth. But many centuries had passed since the Dwarves spread throughout the world and all the other mountains. Torbin didn't feel the need or the inclination to share himself with more than one lover. As a matter of fact, bonding with anyone was the furthest thing from his mind right now. With the many years spent in his education and coming to Void Prison, had felt he had not been given a chance to live, to make a name for himself that a female or their respective First Husband would be glad to join with him.

  His brothers, sisters and friends teased him about this all the time, saying in their messages that he was of age and expected to marry into a good family. He thought that surely if the great God Sapphire meant for him to take on a husband too, it would be of better stock than that of Tergin. Though there was great honour in joining Serna's house, he felt the need to prove himself worthy of being First Husband of his own family. It never seemed fair to him that because he was not the eldest male in his family that he could not form a clan of his own. But he would keep his First Father happy and send a message back to the mainland to maintain the peace. But not today. His Commander was taking him and his team deeper into the ice to make a new set of tunnels. Thinking about his family problems would only get him killed. He got up, put the message on his table and headed for his locker. Opening it, he inspected the only thing that kept him alive outside of his cabin, his armour. Every time he looked at it, Torbin felt the cold of the Wastes fill him. Like every other team member in this venture, it had been specially designed to keep the wearer alive in the frozen wasteland in which they now lived. Truly a miracle of Smithing, the armour incorporated F
ire Runes that inserted in the metal that prevented the wearer from freezing inside it. It was Torbin's own design and the very thing that managed to land him in such a sorry place. It had brought him and his family a good fortune from the Capital, but the poor Scholar was a victim of his success, commanded to supervise the implementation of the use of Fire Rune tech throughout the whole prison, as well as build it.

  Torbin regarded the Runes in his own set. Every set of armour needed six Fire Runes, one for each appendage, the torso and the helmet. Those in the right arm and helmet were barely glowing. He disconnected them and placed them in a box for depleted Runes in the bottom of his locker. Next to this box was another, filled with new ones. He inserted the replacements into his armour then stood back from it, clearing his throat.

  ‘Firacton!’

  At his command, the new Runes glowed a bright red, revealing the sacred Dwarven symbol for fire clearly on the top. With his armour now fully powered, he began the difficult task of putting it all on. Daily practice had allowed him to put everything on quickly enough, but the thing that he had never really gotten used to wearing was the helmet. Ironically the simplest part of the whole process, but one of the many things he and his fellows were forced to sacrifice in their time working in the Wastes was their beards. He wasn’t sure if there was a time when males of his kind never had beards. They were the mark of adulthood for a male, to not have one was to be considered little better than a Dwarfling. But if he and his fellow Dwarves were to survive in their current location, they could not expose any part of themselves to the deadly cold. So he was forced to take a blade to his face and cut his long black beard down to minimum stubble. Some of his fellow males had been known to keep their old beards folded in a pack on their belts for fear of The Great Rock forsaking them if found dead without them. Torbin kept his in a chest at the foot of his bed, along with his hair. He pondered his appearance in the mirror in his locker. Before coming to Void Prison, he couldn’t even remember a time when his hair had been so short. When he finally got out of there, he thought the only way his mothers would let him back into the House would be with a helmet on. He ran his fingers across his head. Having next to no hair was also an unusual experience. Many wondered why he insisted that the wearers of these helmets cut their hair to barely half an inch. He argued that it was for ensuring the secure fastening of the helmet. Though he was confident in his invention, he didn’t want to run the risk of the Rune inside the helmet overheating and setting someone’s hair on fire.