Emmanuel Salvador Papa
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27 - Frozen Base
🕑 Added 2025-09-28 10:48:30 +0000 UTCThe camp was quiet now, save for the faint groan of timber shifting under the weight of ice. Luna stood at the center, boots crunching across frozen ground, hands buried in her pockets as she eyed the spoils.
The makeshift base wasn’t much to look at. Rough tents stitched together with mismatched cloth. A half-collapsed palisade of sharpened logs. Smoke-stained cookfires long snuffed by frost. But the crates—oh, the crates were another story.
She kicked one open with the heel of her boot. Inside, steel gleamed faintly under a sheen of frost.
Swords, axes, spears—all polished enough to look new, and all stacked with care. Another box revealed staves and wands, their rune stone humming faintly with dormant mana.
“Grimoires too,” Luna muttered, crouching to tug one leather-bound volume free.
The runes etched across its spine flickered faintly, then dimmed.
She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t even know half these spells. Too much work.”
The next crate held relics, trinkets, and artifacts of unclear origin. A cracked amulet here. A bent crown there. Things stolen, she figured. Treasures meant for other hands, hoarded here in the middle of nowhere.
Her gaze swept the camp again. The weapons, the gear, the books… it wasn’t a temporary hideout. No, this had been home for a while.
The footprints of too many boots stamped into the dirt, firepits black with ash, tents stuffed with clothes and food supplies. They’d been here long enough to get comfortable.
Luna stood with a sigh, puffing her cheeks as her foggy breath curled upward. “So much junk.”
She wandered, boots dragging lazily, picking through one pile after another. Trinkets rattled. Armor pieces clanged. Some items pulsed faintly with curses—she left those alone. Her eyes didn’t linger on anything too long.
Only the glint of gold made her pause.
Coins. Dozens of them. Thick, gleaming discs stacked neatly inside a small iron-bound chest. They caught what little light broke through the canopy, flashing warm against the chill of the camp.
Luna crouched again, tilted her head, and then grinned. “Now this… this is worth carrying.”
She scooped the coins into her pouch with casual greed, humming under her breath as the weight pulled at her belt. She ignored the rest.
An hour passed like that, idling between crates, scavenging what caught her eye, discarding the rest.
When at last she stretched, arms high over her head, the camp groaned around her but remained silent. No movement from the frozen figures still locked in her ice. No voices. No threats.
“Alright. Done here.”
She turned her back to the camp, gold jingling faintly in her pouch, and made her way through the forest toward the sound of running water.
The lake shimmered when she arrived. Clear, wide, fed by a waterfall that tumbled from the cliffside in a white spray. Mist clung to the air, caught in morning sunlight, painting rainbows against the water’s surface.
Darren and Sarah were already awake. Darren crouched near the fire, stirring something in a pot. Sarah sat on a stone nearby, hair half-brushed, humming softly to herself.
Luna lifted a hand. “Yo!”
Her voice carried across the clearing, casual as always. Both turned to look. Sarah’s expression brightened with relief, while Darren straightened, sword at his side out of habit.
When Luna finally reached them, Sarah rose to her feet.
“Where did you go?” Her voice carried the weight of gentle scolding—an elder sister whose younger sibling had wandered off again.
Luna smirked, smug as ever. “Cleaned up more trash. So we can stay here without any worries.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed. She knew what Luna meant by trash. Still, her concern didn’t fade. “And you’re alright? You didn’t… push yourself?”
“Piece of cake,” Luna said, grinning.
She dropped onto a rock, kicking her heels idly as though she’d done nothing more than pick flowers.
At the fire, Darren rose. He left the pot behind, brushing his hands off, and stepped closer.
“Trash?” he asked, his tone sharp with memory. Last night, Luna had used the same word for the nine demon worshippers she froze solid without hesitation.
“Mm.” Luna puffed up, smug. “Thought maybe the ones who attacked us had a base. Went looking. Found it. Cleaned it.”
Her pride was impossible to miss.
Darren’s jaw tightened. His mind spun with the implications. A hidden base. More demon worshippers. Supplies. Evidence.
As both a knight and a noble, responsibility pressed against him like an iron weight. This wasn’t just about the three of them. It was about people. Protection. Order. His father would need to know.
Sarah, meanwhile, asked the question Darren didn’t. “When you say cleaned… you mean you froze them, don’t you?”
“Yup.” Luna flashed a cheerful smile.
The innocence in her expression was so at odds with the words that Sarah shivered. She imagined it—men and women trapped mid-motion, their bodies entombed in clear ice, their lives snuffed.
And the girl smiled.
Despite herself, Sarah reached out, resting a hand on Luna’s head. Her fingers ruffled soft hair. “Good job.”
The words escaped before she could think them through. Why praise her? She didn’t know. Maybe because that innocent smile pushed away the horror, or maybe because Luna leaned into her hand like a proud little cat, eyes half-lidded with contentment.
Darren, done with his thoughts, broke the quiet. “Luna.” His voice was firm now, back to its knightly tone. “Can you guide us to that base?”
Luna looked up at him, blinking. Then she slouched, her face twisting in exaggerated complaint. “Eh? Why? What about diving in the lake? Or showering under the waterfall?”
Darren caught the flicker of temptation in her eyes and softened his tone. “I understand. But those people… they’re dangerous. I need to see the place for myself. I can’t ignore it.”
“Because knight. Because noble. Because responsibility,” Luna muttered, mimicking him with a waggle of her hand. Still, she sighed. “Fine.”
Her shoulders slumped, though she puffed her cheeks stubbornly.
Sarah, watching them, cut in with gentle practicality. “Breakfast first. You’ll both need the energy if we’re going to travel.”
Darren exhaled, tension easing. “You’re right.” He turned back to the fire.
Sarah followed, kneeling to help stir the pot and lay out their small collection of bowls.
Luna, left alone, dug into her pouch. A hard candy appeared between her fingers. She popped it into her mouth, cheeks bulging faintly as she sucked on it.
From her perch, she watched Darren and Sarah move around one another—passing spices, adjusting the fire, leaning close to taste.
Her lips curved upward. Sweet enough, she decided. Maybe she could forgive them for making her skip her lake dive.
Breakfast was warm, simple, and shared in silence broken only by small jokes. Afterward, the three tidied the camp. Dishes washed, bedrolls rolled, fire doused.
When the last pack was tied shut, Luna took the lead.
The forest greeted them with morning light slanting between trees, birdsong filtering through the leaves.
Luna skipped ahead, her steps light, a piece of candy tucked in her cheek. Behind her, Darren and Sarah walked side by side.
At first, Luna barely noticed. But when she glanced back, she caught Darren’s hand closing around Sarah’s. His pace slowed whenever the ground grew rough, making sure she didn’t trip. Sarah smiled faintly, the kind of smile that belonged to quiet mornings and stolen glances.
Luna blinked.
Her pace slowed. She watched longer than she should have. They looked… sweet.
Then it hit her.
Third wheel.
She stopped dead in her tracks, cheeks puffing indignantly as the realization soured the candy on her tongue.
Bitter. Bitter, bitter. Still, when she turned back around, she let herself smile faintly. Better they were honest with each other, even if it meant she was the odd one out.
So she walked on, crunching sugar between her teeth, eyes forward, pretending she didn’t care.
The journey passed peacefully. Forest underfoot. Birdsong above. Candy in her mouth. And the faint tug in her chest every time she glanced back at the pair holding hands.
The forest grew colder as they walked.
At first it was subtle—a faint nip in the air, a shiver through the leaves as frost clung where sunlight should have burned it away.
Then, the deeper they went, the sharper it grew. Breath steamed. Sarah hugged her arms around herself. Even Darren, who rarely acknowledged the cold, tightened his cloak against his shoulders.
“Strange,” he muttered, scanning the trees.
“It’s me,” Luna admitted casually, as though confessing she’d forgotten to close a window.
Both Darren and Sarah looked at her.
“I didn’t unfreeze the whole place,” Luna explained. She raised one finger, flicked it lightly, and the air shifted. The biting chill softened, rolling back like a tide. Only the heart of the camp remained untouched. “There. Warmer now.”
Sarah exhaled relief, pressing a hand over her chest. “Thank you.”
“Mm. Don’t mention it.” Luna popped another candy into her mouth, crunching it loudly.
When they broke through the last line of trees, the camp sprawled before them.
It was as Luna had left it—rows of tents and wooden palisades half-collapsed under frost, crates scattered in neat yet abandoned stacks, a silence that pressed too heavy for a place meant for living. But the most striking sight stood at the center.
Bodies.
Not corpses, not in the ordinary sense. Men and women locked mid-motion, frozen in perfect clarity. A hand still clutching a staff. A mouth open in a scream that never finished. Eyes wide, glassy, and too alive.
Darren slowed to a stop. Sarah did too, her hand tightening around his.
Luna didn’t break stride. She marched straight into the middle of it, boots crunching over ice, and tapped one frozen figure on the arm like a child poking a display at a fair.
“Pretty,” she said cheerfully.
Darren swallowed. His hand hovered over his sword hilt—not out of fear of an ambush, but from the weight of what he was seeing. Twenty… no, more. Rows of them. He began counting automatically, lips moving faintly.
“Twenty-seven,” he muttered when he finished. His throat worked. “Twenty-seven more demon worshippers. All hidden here in the woods.”
Sarah shivered. She tore her eyes away from the frozen figures and forced herself to look at anything else. Crates. Supplies. The patterns of their camp. But everywhere, the ice clung, turning ordinary objects into eerie monuments.
“You really did all this alone,” she whispered.
“Yup.” Luna leaned against the frozen arm of a man twice her size, looking smug. “Told you. Trash is easy.”
Sarah’s stomach turned at the word. Trash. People—human beings—brushed aside with a single label.
And yet, when Luna’s grin broke into that innocent smile again, Sarah’s hand twitched, almost lifting to pat her head again. She stopped herself this time, fingers curling into her cloak.
Darren forced himself to move. He walked the camp in measured steps, inspecting crates, checking tents. Every weapon he saw stacked neatly confirmed his fears. Steel for knights. Grimoires for mages. Armor, relics, artifacts—all organized, ready to be deployed.
His brow furrowed deeper with every discovery.
“They weren’t just hiding,” he said grimly. “They were preparing. This is… outfitting for war.”
Sarah followed, though more cautiously. Her hand skimmed across the edge of a frozen crate, recoiling when the cold bit into her skin.
The ice didn’t just feel cold—it felt wrong, a chill that seared rather than numbed. She shook her fingers, eyes narrowing.
She remembered trying to touch the ones frozen at their camp the night before. The same feeling. Cold that burned. Ice that wasn’t natural.
Her gaze flicked to Luna, who was now crouched, poking experimentally at another frozen figure’s face, as though trying to see if the eyes would move. The little girl hummed under her breath, entirely unbothered.
“She really is…” Sarah whispered, half in awe, half in unease.
“…beyond us,” Darren finished, though his tone was not casual. It was reverent.
He glanced at Luna again, this small girl who carried more power than whole companies of knights. A girl who treated death like sweeping dust, and yet smiled with the innocence of a child. His chest tightened.
This power could destroy kingdoms. But right now, it was their ally.
He exhaled and looked back at the frozen army before him.
“Father needs to hear of this,” he said under his breath. “If this many are hiding here… how many more elsewhere?”
Luna popped her candy loudly, interrupting his thoughts.
“Hey,” she said suddenly. “Why aren’t you two looting?”
Darren blinked, turning to her. “Looting?”
Sarah looked equally confused. “Luna, what—”
“You know.” Luna gestured at the crates. “Defeated enemies, big stash of stuff. Looting.”
The silence that followed was thick with their bewilderment.
“…Did you?” Darren asked carefully.
“Of course.” Luna grinned, reaching into her pouch. She pulled out a gleaming gold coin, flipping it casually in the air before catching it again. “Only the good stuff, though.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped slightly. “You stole—”
“Not stealing,” Luna corrected, puffing her cheeks. “Looting. Different.”
Her eyes darted between the two of them, as though daring them to argue. “It’s normal! Right? Right?”
Sarah pressed her lips together, unsure whether to scold or laugh.
Darren, however, misread her meaning entirely. He looked around the camp again, at the weapons and armor and magical tools left abandoned. If no one claimed them, they would sit here to rot… or worse, be reclaimed by surviving demon worshippers.
“…She’s right,” he muttered.
Luna’s head snapped toward him, smugness brightening instantly.
“What?” Sarah asked, incredulous.
“If these supplies remain here, it’s wasteful at best, dangerous at worst,” Darren said.
His knightly voice was back, crisp and certain. “It’s our duty to see they don’t fall into the wrong hands. Even if that means…” He glanced at Luna, “…looting.”
Luna crossed her arms, looking satisfied. “See? Told you.”
Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. “You two…”
But Darren wasn’t done thinking. His gaze swept the camp again. Realistically, there was no way for the three of them to carry everything. He could take a few crates, maybe, but most would be left behind.
“We’ll need help,” he said quietly. “If I return to the territory, I can send knights to reclaim what’s here. Properly. Safely.”
His words trailed into a mutter as he calculated routes and timing under his breath.
Luna tilted her head, then asked plainly, “Want me to freeze it?”
Darren blinked at her. “…What?”
“So it doesn’t get touched until your knights come,” Luna explained. “I can just refreeze the whole place. Easy.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“Mm.” Luna smirked, rocking back on her heels. “I can even set it so it melts on its own. Like a timer.”
Both Darren and Sarah stared at her, speechless.
“You…” Sarah struggled to find the right words. “…you can make ice melt on its own? Like… command it ahead of time?”
Luna’s smirk grew smugger. “Yup.”
Darren exhaled slowly, then nodded. “If that’s possible… yes. Please. Ten days, if you can.”
Luna gave a little salute. “Roger that. Might be ten to fifteen, though. Still practicing.”
“That’s fine.” Darren inclined his head, sincerity heavy in his voice. “Thank you, Luna.”
“Piece of cake.”
She flicked her finger. At once, frost surged outward, crawling over tents, crates, the frozen demon worshippers themselves.
The air bit sharper, colder, until the entire camp gleamed once more in crystal-blue stillness. When she lowered her hands, the world was silent again.
Darren looked around, awe written plain across his face. Sarah only shivered, hugging herself tighter.
“Alright,” Luna said cheerfully, brushing her hands off. “Done here. Let’s go.”
By the time they returned to the lake, the sun had already dipped low, painting the sky with gold and rose. Shadows stretched long across the clearing.
The campfire flickered back to life under Darren’s careful hand. Sarah unpacked their small supplies, preparing dinner.
Luna plopped onto her bedroll with a huff, tossing a candy into her mouth.
She chewed in silence for a while, watching the two older ones cook together. Their hands brushed when they reached for the same pot.
Sarah laughed at something Darren muttered. Darren, awkward but smiling, corrected his seasoning.
Sweet, Luna thought. Too sweet.
She flopped back onto her bedroll, grumbling.
“Didn’t get to dive again,” she muttered to herself. “Unfair.”
The candy crunched between her teeth, loud in the quiet of the evening.
But as the smell of dinner filled the air, and the sound of soft laughter carried across the camp, her pout eased into something softer. Maybe tomorrow.
For now, she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of their voices replace the cold breeze of the night.
