When Frost and Flame Collide

[Acantha Malvern]

[member=Beric Layne]​

Location: Frosthall - Vandor​

Wearing: Obsidian-type Strike Armour​

​

​

As the ship scurried across the frozen wasteland, Felurian found herself sighing deeply and watching the curls of visible breath fog up the inside of the viewport. The young Mistress was wrapped head to toe in thick black furs and leathers in what she hoped would be a successful attempt at keeping the anticipated cold at bay. Even looking outside from the interior of the ship’s cockpit sent shivers up her spine. Sean’Olc were not meant for the cold. Their thin skin, pale faces and cold-bloodedness, by nature, demanded heat. Whatever task was in store for her today would have to be completed through gritted teeth, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for Felurian. It was the shivering that was going to be the death of her.

‘We’re coming in to land.’ The sound of the pilot’s voice sliced through her abysmal self-reflection, which was a small mercy all things considered. Felurian peeled herself away from the smaller viewport and headed up to the co-pilots chair. Onyx eyes peered out of the much wider glass window before her, but they couldn’t really make out much. A fine frost had crept from the corners and was slowly overtaking the entire viewport, splaying across it beautifully intricate fractals of ice. The patterns were far too complicated to follow, but Felurian wasn’t really interested in the patterns. What interested her was the large shadow that, as they approached it, drank all the light from the cabin before Felurian could even blink.

Frosthall.

A towering monument of slate grey stone and ice kissed wood. As the shadow it produced encased the entire ship, the Mistress had to admit that it was just a touch impressive. It gave her the impression of a castle that belonged in a horror story told to children at bedtime. She half expected a dashing man to come striding out of its depths, all smiles and charm, only to later discover that he was really a beast. That was a children’s story, wasn’t it? Felurian reached out and grasped onto the arm of the chair as the ship touched the landing pad with a jolt. ’Stay here, or don’t. I don’t care.’ She spoke dismissively to the pilot and, without even so much as a thank you, made headway for the loading ramp. Almost the minute it began to open out onto the winter wonderland, Fela shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle defensively.

The bitter wind was the first thing she felt. It whipped her raven hair across her face, leaving painful streaks across her pale-white cheeks. It stung her eyes as it blew aggressively, so aggressively Fela feared she would topple over the edge of the ramp altogether. Despite this, she pressed on. Her reason for coming to Frosthall was at the forefront of her mind. Knowledge. The quest for it was a thirst that could never be quenched, a hunger that could never be satisfied, a craving that you could never shake. The man who had invited her here promised it in bundles, and the Mistress would not pass the chance up. Finally, after what felt like an age, she managed to reach the thick wooden doors that served as an entrance to the grand fortress.

In one swift movement, and as loud as her frozen fingers would allow it, Felurian knocked on the door and accompanied it with a shout from her monotonous voice. ’Hello?’ The minute the words left her lips was the minute she realised it was utterly pointless to even try. Anything she tried to say was simply swept away by the wind. With no words and no way of telling if anyone had heard her, Felurian wrapped her frigid fingers around the door handle and rattled it. Locked. Kark. All that was left to do was stand, and wait, and hope her knock was loud enough to garner some attention.

​

 

[Beric Layne]

Felurian Malvern
​

As it turned out, falling out of a ship when it was in the lower atmosphere was not the most ideal choice for someone who wanted to lead a more healthy lifestyle. As soon as Beric had been brought back from the adventure on Ottabesk, he'd been confined to the castle infirmary for a week as the nurse fussed over him, exclaiming multiple times that it was a wonder he'd even survived a fall from that height. In truth, Beric wasn't sure how he had done it -- he himself remembered very little from the 'crash,' if you could call it that -- but he had to count it towards being one of his luckier days.

Beric's spine and lower body were still healing. Hour-long sessions immersed in a tank of bacta had done miracles on his body, and combined with the vitality in his genetics that came with his relatively young age the nurse had promised him that his former vigor and agility would eventually be restored. But for now, he was confined to a cane and slight limp as he made his way throughout Frosthall, overseeing the various tasks that came part-and-parcel of being Lord of Vandor. When he found time, he meditated in a secluded courtyard, unbothered by the swirling snow and freezing cold temperatures around it.

For most of his life, his connection to the Force had not been something that had usually been touched on in his training. His father had described it as a tool to help him master the elements and his skills with a lightsaber, and to a certain extent he had, preventing the freezing cold of Vandor from effecting him physically. His abilities with a blade were hampered by his injury, but he was sure that if the need be, he could hold his own. But his mentoring had not introduced the Force as much more than that, yet when he had stepped into a larger galaxy he'd been confronted with an entirely new and foreign aspect to the mysterious Force that seemed to connect all living beings. He'd first felt it, with the premonition that had sent him on a wild-goose chase almost to Sith space, where he had encountered a strange youth and had been surprised by several other members of the Knights Obsidian. Similarly, he'd felt a instinct that seemed to call him to Ottabesk, and so he had joined that mission too. After getting thrown out of the ship at an impossible height, however, he was beginning to wonder if the Force had something more sinister in mind for Beric.

As for Vandor, he'd returned during the dead of winter. It seemed like hardly an day would go by without a blizzard sweeping through the halls, snuffing out candles and quickly filling up walkways with feet of snow. Frosthall had been built to weather the worst of storms; massive heating systems kept the inhabitants from freezing to death, vaults were filled to the brim with food and supplements to prevent starvation, hearths roared in nearly every room and even the guards standing on the parapets of the massive castle warded off the cold with massive braziers that burned throughout the night and day. Yet in this time of extreme cold, no one expected that an offworlder would be as bold to face the howling winds and biting cold and actually visit the castle, much less the planet as a whole. And thus, that was why the poor Sean'Olc was standing now, freezing outside of the locked gates.

Luckily for her, the inside of the entrance hall was quite silent. Two guards stood ceremoniously at either side of the massive reinforced Vandorian Oak doors, wrapped in layers of fur and insulation. When the woman knocked, it reverberated throughout the entire hall, contested only by the slow dripping of water that came from a cracked ceiling. At that very moment, Beric happened to be limping by on his way back from the courtyard to his study in the upper floors, the staircase just on the other side of the hall. Snowflakes still clung to his long, blonde hair and the shoulders of the fur cloak he wore as he turned in confusion towards the massive entrance doors. "Guards, is there someone on the other side of the entrance?" he asked tentatively, aware of the absurdity of the question. The three of them knew that travel during this period would be near madness, even for a Vandorian native used to the harsh climate.

"I'm not sure, my lord. Should I check?" One of them replied. Beric nodded, and both of the guards moved back to pull on two massive bronze rings, slowly pulling the door open. Almost immediately as the first crack appeared, wind and snow shrieked in, Beric instinctively raising his hands to shield his eyes from the sudden gust. As the doors opened, however, it revealed a single woman who looked rather small when silhouetted by the blizzard and massive mountain in the backdrop. Instanctly, Beric dropped his hands and began to press against the storm to reach the woman who stood in the cold. "My lady, a thousand apologies to keep you in this cold weather, you must be half-freezed to death. Please, come inside and allow me to introduce myself--"

Looking at the face of the woman, she seemed to be strikingly familiar. Where had he seen that face? Suddenly, the memories of it all came rushing back; Ottabesk, the beast, the rest of his companions. And here standing before him was the leader of their group, Felurian Malvern. "Lady Malvern. I did not expect you, nor anyone to visit Frosthall at this time, but nevertheless welcome. Here, I am your humble servant," he said, bowing. "Please, come in and warm yourself. What brings you to Vandor?"

 

[Acantha Malvern]

The minute the doors opened; relief washed over Felurian’s face. She’d be straining her ears to the point of exhaustion to hear anything over the wind. In truth, she was about to give up and turn back to the ship, which was still waiting on the landing pad. Fortunately for her, it was a crack of man-made light that danced over her skin and shimmered in the snow that told her someone had finally answered her knock. When the door opened fully, Felurian was bombarded with a flurry of words, most of which were lost to the howling wind. What she did catch, however, was an invitation to step inside.

She attempted a smile, or at least, she forced her lips to curl up. That’s what people usually did when they were introducing themselves. “Yes, well uh…” Her fine, milk-white features twisted into something of a grimace. “I’m not a Lady. It’s Felurian. Or Fela, I guess.” She hadn’t the first clue why he was being so polite to her, by all accounts he was further up the rankings than she was. By a mile. “Don’t trouble yourself about the cold. I suppose I should have realised, or at least done some research first.” Finally, she stepped through the threshold, and this time she genuinely did smile. The thick walls of the entrance hall were surrounding her now, blocking the bitter wind that attempted to assault them. Though it still wasn’t as warm as she’d have liked, it was still warmer than outside.

Once away from the daggers of ice and the endless chill, Felurian glanced at her host for the day. He still bore the marks of the last time they had chanced upon one another, as did she. Their crash landing on Ottabesk had been unplanned, and they had been ill prepared. It was fortunate that either of them were standing here. “I see you’re healing well?” Felurian’s face crumpled. She couldn’t have sounded more awkward if she tried. I see you’re healing well? Get it together. Her head shook slightly, freeing her raven hair from a few stray snowflakes that had yet to melt.

“I’m just going to be honest. I was impressed with the way you handled things on Ottabesk, and I was impressed by the powers you displayed.” She let her words go in a rush, as though she had forced herself to simply say it. “If you had the time, I was wondering if you would teach me.”

Beric Layne

​

 

[Beric Layne]

Felurian Malvern​

Through the force, Beric could feel the blood of the Sean'Olc begin to flow again as her body began to warm up now that it was taken out of the extreme colds of the Vandorian Winter. He was glad that he'd been able to let the woman in before she'd frozen to death, which would've both been a terrible tragedy as well as a lot of awkward explaining that Beric would have to give to the council. But nevertheless, she had prevailed long enough to get into the much more forgiving walls of Frosthall, and from her words she had come to seek knowledge.

Beric took a pause to respond, instead turning his head and outstretching his arms to quickly close the massive doors that led to the freezing cold outside, preventing any more snow and ice from making it passed the stone defenses of Frosthall. Closing his eyes, he let the energy of the force flow form him to push against the doors, which slowly but surely began to move. Within seconds, the doors had been propelled into motion and now clanged shut, the howling winds gone from the entrance hall leaving no one but Beric, Felurian, the two guards who stood back at the entrance, and a heavy silence between them. Brushing the snow off of his fur coat, Beric turned to Felurian and gave her a smile. " Do not worry about my injuries; they are temporal will heal eventually. I am glad that you took me up on my offer, however. There are indeed a great amount of aspects to the force that, if you will forgive me, I belive that the Knights Obsidian has yet to teach to the fullest."

The Lord of Frosthall took the lead as he pointed Felurian towards a long flight of stone stairs that led into the bowels of the castle. Beric had to lean on his cane for support as he made his way up the stairs, but he drew on the Force to give him strength. Not to keep the converstation cold like the storm outside, Beric talked as he climbed the stairs. "To what extent do you know of the force technique known in most texts as Alter Environment?" he asked the young woman as they both walked up the long flight of stairs.

 

[Acantha Malvern]

​

When the doors finally shut, it took the howling winds with it. Echoes of it still remained in Fela’s ears, though she couldn’t quite tell if it was the wind whistling through the cracks in the castle or whether her ears had simply been assaulted by it for too long. Speaking of ears, hers felt like ice cubes. Numb to the point that the air against it stung. “I’m pleased to hear you’re recovering well.” Fela let out a soft sigh, only given away by the breath the cold turned into white swirls the second it left her lips. “I believe I’ve missed out on a fair bit of what the Knight’s Obsidian has to offer, I’m eager to catch up.”

Fela followed his arm as it directed her to the stairs, to which she immediately began walking towards. She hoped that at the end of them they might find a warm fire, but she thought it would be rude to ask. Still, Beric’s baritone voice was enough of a distraction from the icy chill that still shook her bones. “I’ve heard of it and read about it. The ability to manipulate elements?” Her raven eyes glanced to her host in search of the correct answer. Felurian had never been one to shy away from knowledge, so she had never been the type that was unwilling to admit when she didn’t know something. “I’m afraid that’s all I know.”

It surprised her that he was still using a cane, but she did seem to recall his injuries had perhaps been the most sever, next to her own. There were a fair few fine silver lines littering her milk-white flesh from that particular excursion, but they had healed over. As had the broken bones. Something in her suggested that it might be wise to offer him some help, but the rest of her seemed to think that would be more insulting than anything. He wasn’t an old man suffering the aches and pains of age, he was a warrior suffering the wounds of sacrifice and bravado. It seemed disrespectful to treat him as anything else.

Beric Layne

​

 

[Beric Layne]

Felurian Malvern
​

Beric could sense that the young woman was perturbed by the use of his cane, but the Lord of Frosthall said nothing. It was true; Beric was not the most potent of Force Healers, and stuff like this took time. The stone floors of Frosthall and icy winds were unforgiving to any misstep, and so Beric had simply swallowed his pride and opted to use a cane while his back and legs continued through the healing process. At the very least, most of the pain had subsided since he'd began treatment, which was definitely a plus.

"You are correct," Beric said to Felurian, bringing his mind back to the subject at hand. "The Force allows us to alter and control the environment around us; the wind, the sun, the snow. Those especially trained have been able to put entire planets into a wintery hibernation, or dry up all of the seas in a terrible drought." They had reached a pair of oaken doors, not unsimilar to the entrance hall but much smaller in size and thickness. Beric outstretched his hands, and with the force gently pushed the doors open. As soon as the first crack appeared, wind began to howl and drive in from the outsider, snow flurrying through widening opening in a barrage of white flakes.

They had reached the higher courtyard, perhaps one of Beric's favorite places to meditate and reflect. Regular maintenance meant that the snow was only a foot deep, and servants had to constantly melt the freshly-fallen snow to prevent the entire courtyard from being buried, but right now Beric and Felurian were the only beings there. Venturing out into the cold, Beric motioned for Felurian to follow him until they reached the center of the courtyard, ringed in by stone walls and chilly winds on every side. "To manipulate the elements, you must understand that everything around you has energy in the force. The ice that falls on our heads, the wind that whips past our ears; all of these have tangible connections and presences within the force. Reach out to them, use your own life force to command theirs, and you will become the master of nature."

Closing his eyes, Beric rested both of his hands on his cane and his concentrated on his breathing. Slowly reaching out with the force, he could feel each individual flake of snow that whirled around the two, the wind blowing incessantly. As he reached out, he slowly began to draw the cold in and out from around him, absorbing it as if he was sucking in the cold with each measured breath. Slowly around them, what felt like a heat wave extended in every direction. Ice on the ground melted, snowflakes turned into raindrops, and the wind seemed to subside as the fallen snow on the pairs cloths and skin began to steam away. Opening his eyes from his demonstration, he turned to Felurian and gave her a smile. "Even the harshest blizzards will fall to your authority, with time and practice."