Page 1 of Burning Ice
PROLOGUE
The Helion arena opened to the sky. Its oval walls rose tier upon tier, ribbed with iron and stone, open to the blackness above, stars shivering beyond the torch smoke. The night pressed close. The arena held the weight of sound.
Horns blared. Drums pounded. Sand shimmered under torchlight, gold and red as if the ground itself bled. Smoke from the braziers curled into the night, heavy with fat and iron. The stone tiers trembled with noise, a living tide of bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder.
They had come for the spectacle.
They had come for death.
And they had come to witness a union that would bind the fate of their world, a pledge before gods and people alike. It was the union of Imperial Prince Moargan Zephyranth and his chosen consort, Cyprian Zephyranth.
“Long live Helion!” they called. “Long live the Imperial family!”
The chant rolled like thunder. Children waved scraps of cloth like banners. Vendors shouted prices as they pushed through aisles, trays steaming, the smell oftiganosand wine thick as breath. The Essentials sat in the highest rows, every movementrehearsed, their silver crests catching light. They were the bloodline few ever touched. Poor families pressed their shawls tighter, eyes sharp with hunger and awe. Torches smoked and spat, spraying sparks that drifted across the tiers like fireflies.
High above, Mirel stood hidden in the rafters. His shirt was a rag, his boots cracked, his jacket still damp with cemetery rain. He was thin from hunger, his body all sharp angles. His eyes lingered on the vendors below, trays steaming withtiganos, and when hunger gnawed too hard, he had snatched a crust straight from a tray, too desperate to care. He had no coin for a seat, so he had climbed to the ledge he always used. It was his secret place, a rib of stone where he had to rise on his toes to see the pit but where no one could see him.
A hush shivered through the tiers as the great doors groaned open, iron hinges screaming. The crowd leaned forward as one, the air swelling with anticipation. This was the moment they had come for, the cruelty they had come to drink.
The prisoners were driven out, each one locked inside an iron cage that scraped against the sand as Luminary guards dragged them forward. A herald’s voice rang across the arena, welcoming the people of Helion to the spectacle, calling each name and crime aloud only for the words to be devoured by the roar of the stands.
One by one the cages clanged to a halt in the pit, each prisoner visible through the iron bars in their purple uniforms, chains clattering when they moved. Five men first, bloodied from beatings, their eyes wild with terror.
And last, Ludo Fandi.
His cage shuddered into place at the center, metal rattling. Inside, he straightened as if the filth were a throne, arrogance painted over his stained sleeves and slicked hair. He grinned through the bars as if the crowd belonged to him. He was no warrior, only a man who believed cruelty made him strong. Hewas Mirel’s father by blood, but in his heart there was only hatred, a hollow carved by every betrayal.
The hush turned mean. Apples burst against the bars, eggs splattered, wine sprayed in red arcs. The crowd jeered and laughed, pelting every cage as if the prisoners were beasts on display. A bystander shouted a bet, and others answered, voices rising cruelly.
Rage lit Mirel clean. Ludo had destroyed everything. He had sold his children like stock and walked away as if it meant nothing. Mirel’s body shook with fury. The frost tightened inside him like a blade ready to snap.
Horns blared again, louder, rolling through the tiers. The crowd surged to its feet, stamping and shrieking until the boards shook. It was frenzy, a storm of voices breaking into one roar as the doors parted once more and two figures stepped into the light. Moargan Zephyranth, Imperial heir, strode first, torchlight alive in his amethyst eyes. His hair was white as frost, his cape trimmed with fur, the fabric gleaming bright. He moved with the assurance of rule as he passed down the line of cages, gaze sharp, weighing each condemned man. Then he turned back, and at his side came Cyprian, dressed in the same regal white cape and fur, though his hair was black, his eyes molten yellow. He had the same eyes Mirel had seen in his own reflection. Together they looked fantastic, radiant, every inch princes of Helion. Mirel’s chest ached as he watched his brother this close for the first time.
It was like seeing the sun after a lifetime of cold. The lights caught on his brother’s skin, gold threading across his chest and throat until he looked carved from flame.
The crowd stilled for a heartbeat, as if even the air knew something had shifted.
Moargan finished his inspection and withdrew, his white cloak sweeping the sand as he turned from the cages. Cyprianlingered, stalling, golden eyes tilted upward as though searching the sky itself. It was his first Aureate as an Imperial, the night the crowd had come to see what kind of superiority he carried, to measure whether the new prince was worthy of their awe.
The silence grew heavy, the crowd holding its breath. Then Cyprian turned, gaze locking on the final cage.
“Open it,” he ordered, voice ringing clear.
The guards obeyed. The cage door swung wide with a shriek of hinges. Ludo stepped out, wrists bound before his stomach, eyes wide and gleaming. Even chained, he carried himself like a man already planning his next cruelty.
Mirel’s chest clenched with terror and pride all at once. His brother had chosen. He would destroy their father.
Cyprian went forward, baring his teeth. The crowd howled. Moargan’s face flickered with surprise. The Luminary shifted like a ripple of black water.
Then Ludo pushed him back, full force, and Cyprian stumbled. Mirel’s chest tightened. Despite his weakness, despite the guards, Ludo went on full attack, spitting through blood and foam. “You bastard!” he roared. “Imperial dog! You’ll rot like the rest of us!” The filth of his curses tore across the pit, but Mirel heard them as if they’d been hissed directly in his ear.
Each word cut him open. His own life reeled past—alleys, hunger, the years of homelessness, the struggle to survive—and all of it traced back to this man.
Fury rose sharp and merciless.
“You think you can kill me? I died a long time ago, monster.”
Ludo lunged once more and this time, Cyprian fell to the ground. Ludo bent over him. “But I can kill you.”
