The sound of hammers echoed across the ice bay.Metal rang like church bells, carrying through the frozen air until even the aurora seemed to pulse in rhythm.A city was being born.
Frostheim.
Half-built longhouses huddled around the old fortress walls, smoke curling from makeshift chimneys. The smell of pine tar, mead, and burning oil mixed with the scent of snow. The newcomers were no longer explorers—they were settlers now, and every plank, every stone was paid for in blood and raids.
The Forge Site
Lumiel stood knee-deep in frost, staring at a crater glowing faintly blue. Inside it, the second Red Code fragment— the blue one—floated above the ice, spinning slowly like a heart suspended in breath.
"This is where it goes," he said, brushing frost off his gloves."The forge?" Klaus asked."No, my ego shrine," Lumiel replied. "Of course, the forge."
Luminous smirked. "Try not to blow up the valley this time."
"That was one time!""And one valley."
Eira stepped closer, cloak whispering across the snow. "My people once built frost-halls to capture the aurora's heat. Combine that with your Red Code reactor, and the forge may run eternally."
"Perfect," Lumiel said. "An eternal power source fueled by aesthetics. I approve."
Raids and Returns
The city couldn't feed itself yet. Every week small raiding fleets went out under the twin moons.
Daniel organized trade with distant settlements—fish, hides, crystals.
Laura refined potions that kept the workers from freezing or falling asleep standing.
Luminous led her Valkyrie company of Ice-Elves through enemy camps to gather runestones for the forge.
Each time the ships returned, they unloaded more materials: iron from Shadow mines, blue crystal ore, and the faint shimmer of stolen souls sealed in jars.
"At this rate," Daniel muttered, counting crates, "we'll have a functioning economy by next century.""Optimism suits you," Lumiel said.
Forging Light and Blood
The day came when all the parts were ready. Lumiel carved a runic circle in the snow, blending Ice-Elf sigils with Red Code glyphs.Eira and Klaus stood opposite him, channels of frostlight streaming from their hands.The air turned sharp as crystal.
"Start the pulse," Klaus said.
Lumiel pressed his palm to the blue fragment.It flared—bright, cold, alive. Crimson from his blood met sapphire from Eira's frost, fusing into a single light that roared upward like a column of dawn. Snow melted in a ten-meter ring; the glacier itself seemed to sigh.
When the glare faded, a structure stood there: a forge of red-gold metal and translucent ice, its core burning like a frozen sun.The Red Forge of Frostheim.
The Celebration
Workers cheered. Bells rang from the new watchtowers. Even the aurora above shifted to a spiral shape, red merging with blue.
Klaus wiped frost from his brow. "Functional."Lumiel grinned. "Functional? Brother, it's art."Eira smiled faintly. "It's both. The first of its kind."
Lumiel lifted a flask of glowing mead.
"To progress, to raids, and to the miracle of not dying in the process!"
The laughter that followed warmed the ice more than the forge did.
Closing Scene
Later that night, Eira walked with Klaus along the new city wall. Torches flickered below, shadows stretching long across the snow.
"Your brother builds with chaos," she said. "You build with order. Together, perhaps Frostheim will survive.""If it doesn't," Klaus said quietly, "we'll build again."
A pause—soft, meaningful. The aurora above reflected in her eyes.
"You speak like one of us already," she said."Maybe the north is contagious," he answered.
The wind carried their breath away as Frostheim's forge burned bright—a heartbeat of light in the endless snow.