MTLNOVEL Chapter 194: [194] Army of Five
Xavier Valentine ran his thumb across the seams of his new jacket, feeling for imperfections that weren't there. The garment was better crafted than anything he'd owned in either life—black leather with silver threading that hummed faintly when he channeled his Essentia through it. The enchantments were subtle but unmistakable, designed to amplify his abilities while providing protection against both conventional and magical attacks.
Hearthome's armory smelled of volcanic stone, oiled leather, and the faint ozone scent of magic. Dawn had barely broken, painting the eastern windows in hues of orange and gold, but the five of them had been awake for hours.
"Stop fidgeting," Naomi said, adjusting her own equipment. She wore dark purple leather armor, form-fitting yet practical, with dozens of hidden pockets for her various tools. Her daggers—three visible, likely more concealed—gleamed in the early light. "You look like you've never worn decent gear before."
"I haven't," Xavier admitted. "Not like this."
Across the room, Ashley stood motionless as Margaret helped her into armor designed specifically for her transformed state. The golden fractures along Ashley's skin pulsed in time with her heartbeat, visible through strategic openings in the otherwise protective gear. Her expression remained flat, emotionless.
"Is it uncomfortable?" Margaret asked, her voice gentle as always.
"I don't experience discomfort the way I used to," Ashley replied. "The fractures react to the enchantments. It's... interesting."
Xavier watched them, still unnerved by the fundamental change in Ashley. Her new personality was efficient, direct, and utterly devoid of the protective warmth that had once defined her. The transformation wasn't just physical—it went soul-deep.
Calypso emerged from behind a dressing screen, and Xavier's breath hitched. Her armor was the color of midnight, threaded with gold and pink that caught the light like captured stars. The craftsmanship emphasized her divine nature rather than trying to conceal it. Her wine-red hair was braided back, practical yet elegant.
"You're staring," she said, her lips curving into a smile.
"Can you blame me?"
"Not at all." She approached, inspecting his gear with a critical eye. "You look almost worthy of a goddess's attention."
"Only almost?"
"I have high standards."
"The weapons are ready," Naomi called, pulling their attention to the central table.
The arsenal Torval had provided was impressive: Naomi's assortment of daggers and throwing knives, all crafted from ironwinter steel; a crystalline staff for Margaret that would amplify her healing abilities; a set of bracers for Ashley that would help her control her interference field; and for Calypso, a slender sword that seemed to bend light around its blade.
For Xavier, there was a matched pair of curved daggers with handles wrapped in black leather and pommels inset with pink crystals that resonated with his Essentia.
"Pick them up," Calypso urged.
When Xavier gripped the daggers, they vibrated in his hands, responding to his energy. His interface appeared:
\\[Input Buffer: 0/300\\]
\\[New weapons registered: Twin Fangs of the Void\\]
\\[Passive bonus activated: +15% Essentia efficiency\\]
He raised an eyebrow at the increased meter capacity. "Torval wasn't kidding about sparing no expense."
"We're his redemption," Ashley said, buckling her bracers. The metal seemed to fuse with the golden fractures on her wrists. "His absolution. Of course he gave us his best."
A knock at the door interrupted them. One of Torval's guards stood at attention.
"High Burner Flameheart requests the presence of Thornslayer. Alone."
Xavier exchanged glances with the others. Calypso nodded slightly, and he sheathed his new daggers at his hips.
"I'll meet you at the gates," he told them, following the guard out.
===
Torval waited in his private study, a small room dominated by a desk covered in maps and journals. The volcanic heat was more noticeable here, making the air dry and warm. When Xavier entered, Torval dismissed the guard with a gesture.
For a moment, neither spoke. The High Burner looked older than he had just days ago, as if the events in the ballroom had aged him a decade overnight.
"I didn't ask you here for advice or farewells," Torval said finally. "You've made your preparations. You know what you face."
"Then why am I here?"
Torval reached into his pocket and withdrew something small that caught the light. "For this."
He extended his hand, revealing a silver locket on a delicate chain. The craftsmanship was exquisite—tiny flowers and stars etched into the metal, a small crystal set in its center.
"It was Selene's," Torval said, his voice roughening. "Her mother gave it to her on her tenth birthday."
Xavier made no move to take it.
"It plays her favorite lullaby," Torval continued. "A song about stars falling to earth and finding their way home again."
"Why give this to me?" he asked. "Calypso—"
"No." Torval shook his head firmly. "Not to her. That would be... cruel. To both of them."
"I'm not sure I should—"
"Please."
Xavier accepted the locket, feeling its weight—physical and symbolic—in his palm. The metal was warm, as if it had absorbed Torval's body heat during the years he'd kept it close.
"She had her mother's laugh," Torval said, turning to look out the window at the rising sun. "She loved riding horses and hated formal dinners. She once hid a wolf pup in her chambers for three days before anyone discovered it."
Xavier pocketed the locket, unsure what to say.
"She would have been eighteen this summer," Torval continued, his voice growing distant. "The same age you appear to be."
The implication hung in the air between them: in another life, in another world, Xavier and Selene might have met naturally. Might have fallen in love. Might have built a future together.
Instead, Xavier loved the goddess inhabiting her body while Selene herself drifted lost between worlds.
"I will find her," Xavier said finally. "I promise you that."
Torval nodded once, accepting this incomplete answer. "Then go. Find your companions. Confront the Winter Court. And may the Eternal Flame guide your path."
It was as close to a blessing as Xavier was likely to receive.
===
The others waited at Hearthome's eastern gate, their horses saddled and supplies secured. The morning light cast long shadows across the stone courtyard as final preparations were made.
"Everything okay?" Calypso asked when Xavier joined them.
"Fine," he said, not meeting her eyes. The locket seemed to burn in his pocket, a physical reminder of the moral complexity of their mission.
They looked like a professional hunter squad, equipped with the finest gear gold could buy. But beneath the armor and weapons, Xavier saw only uncertainty—five people bound by trauma and circumstance rather than choice or loyalty.
Margaret checked her medical supplies for the third time, methodical and thorough. Naomi tested her bowstring, face guarded against the emotions Xavier knew churned beneath her practical exterior. Ashley stood apart from the others, her golden fractures pulsing in the morning light, studying the gate mechanisms with detached interest.
And Calypso... she caught his gaze and held it, something knowing in her eyes. Whatever Torval had given him, she sensed its importance.
"Ready?" she asked simply.
Xavier nodded, mounting his horse. The beast—Smoke—snorted and pawed at the ground, eager to be moving.
Lord Commander Alaric approached, handing Xavier a sealed scroll. "Your papers. They'll grant you passage through our western outposts."
"Thank you."
"The Westlands are unstable," Alaric warned. "Civil war has ravaged the region for decades. Even our intelligence is spotty beyond the border."
"We'll manage," Xavier said.
Alaric stepped back, giving a formal bow. "Safe travels, Thornslayer."
The massive gates ground open, revealing the world beyond Hearthome's protective walls. The change was immediate and shocking—from the volcanic warmth of the city to the brutal, endless winter of Frostfall.
Xavier's breath fogged in the air as they rode through the gates. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in the space of a heartbeat. Before them stretched an expanse of white—snow-covered forests and mountains fading into a hazy horizon.
"Well," Naomi said, pulling her cloak tighter. "This is going to be fun."
"The Westlands are approximately two weeks' journey," Ashley said, consulting a map. "Assuming we maintain an average pace of thirty miles per day and encounter no significant obstacles."
"Which we will," Margaret added quietly.
"We have the compasses," Xavier reminded them, patting his pocket where the resonance device rested alongside Selene's locket. "Once we're in range, we'll be able to locate Nolan."
"Assuming he's still alive," Naomi muttered.
"He is," Calypso said with certainty.
Xavier wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or simply trying to maintain morale, but he nodded anyway. "Then let's not waste daylight."
They urged their horses forward, leaving the protective embrace of Hearthome behind. The volcanic heat faded quickly, replaced by the bitter cold of true winter. Their breath formed clouds that trailed behind them like ghosts.
The sheer scale of the wasteland before them was overwhelming. In Hearthome, with its winding streets and crowded buildings, it had been possible to forget the vastness of Frostfall. Now, facing the endless white expanse, Xavier felt a momentary pang of doubt.
Five people against an entire continent. Five displaced souls against the Winter Court. Five broken individuals against forces they barely understood.
As they crested the first ridge, Xavier looked back at Hearthome one last time. Smoke rose from the central cathedral, the Eternal Flame visible even at this distance as a golden speck against the mountainside.
"Second thoughts?" Calypso asked, bringing her horse alongside his.
"No," Xavier said, turning away from the city. "But I'm thinking about something Torval asked me."
"What was that?"
"When we find the children—when we find Selene—what then? Do we give back what we took?"
Calypso was quiet for a long moment, her eyes on the horizon. "That's a question for another day."
"Is it? Seems like something we should figure out before we succeed."
"If we reach that point—if we find a way to bring them back—then we'll make that decision together." She met his gaze directly. "All of us."
Xavier nodded slowly. It wasn't an answer, but it was honest.
They rejoined the others, who had pulled ahead on the trail. The path wound through a forest of pine trees, their branches heavy with snow. In the distance, mountains loomed, their peaks lost in clouds.
The real journey had begun. Not just the physical trek to the Westlands, but the moral one—forcing Xavier to confront what it meant to live in a borrowed body, to love a goddess inhabiting another's form, to fight for a world that wasn't his own.
The King's Gaze stirred in the back of his mind, offering tactical assessments and route suggestions. Xavier pushed it away. Some decisions couldn't be calculated. Some paths had to be chosen with the heart rather than the head.
He touched his pocket, feeling the outline of Selene's locket, and rode into the white wilderness of Frostfall, an army of five against the endless winter.