The implication was clear, and Malgorzata felt the weight of attention shift toward her. Her father's expression remained neutral, but she recognized the subtle nod that indicated she should speak.
Rising to her feet, Malgorzata faced the assembly with the same composure she would show on a battlefield. "The description matches blood manipulation techniques I observed during my captivity with the Crimson Path. They combine elements of several traditions but most closely resemble practices from the eastern coastal cities, where blood alchemists create compounds that temporarily alter the body's natural limitations."
She spoke matter-of-factly, though discussing this knowledge openly cost her more than anyone present could know. "The red eyes, unnatural strength, and blood that resists leaving the body are consistent with a preparation they called 'crimson ascension.' It grants significant combat advantages but carries severe costs to the user."
"What costs?" asked one of the younger warriors.
"Physical and mental deterioration," Malgorzata replied. "The enhanced state cannot be maintained indefinitely. When it fades, the user experiences extreme pain, organ damage, and often violent mood swings or paranoia. Repeated use leads to dependency and eventually death as the body's natural blood production is compromised."
Murmurs spread through the hall as the implications sank in. Radek raised his hand for silence once more.
"If Clan Grimhall is employing such techniques, they either don't understand these consequences or are desperate enough to accept them," he said. "Either possibility makes them more dangerous, not less."
Kazimir spoke for the first time, his strategist's mind already analyzing implications. "We must consider that this may not be isolated to a few hunters. If Grimhall's leadership has embraced these methods, they may be preparing for more than border raids. The timing aligns with reports of increased activity at their stronghold and unusual trading patterns with southern merchants."
Malgorzata returned to her seat as discussion erupted around the hall. Various warriors and elders offered opinions on Grimhall's intentions and the appropriate response. Some advocated immediate retaliation, while others urged caution and further investigation. Through it all, she remained silent, her thoughts turning to the implications beyond the immediate conflict.
If blood enhancement techniques from the Crimson Path had reached the northern clans, the carefully maintained boundaries between different magical traditions were breaking down. The isolation that had historically kept the most dangerous forms of blood magic contained within specific cultures and regulatory systems was failing. Knowledge was flowing across borders, carried by traders, travelers, and perhaps deliberate agents of groups like the Crimson Path.
Her father's voice cut through her thoughts as he called the council back to order. "I have heard your counsel, and now I will speak my decision. This matter requires both immediate action and careful investigation."
He turned to the warrior section. "Halvard, you will lead a reinforced patrol to secure our border with Grimhall territory. Take twenty warriors of your choosing, but engage only if directly threatened. Your primary task is to prevent further incursions while we determine the full extent of this situation."
A grizzled veteran nodded acceptance of the assignment.
"Kazimir," Radek continued, "you will send messages to our allied clans, informing them of this treaty violation and requesting information on any similar encounters in their territories. We must determine if this is isolated to Grimhall or part of a broader pattern."
Finally, his gaze settled on Malgorzata. "Daughter, your experience with these blood techniques makes you uniquely qualified for a more delicate task. You will travel to Frostford to consult with Magister Volkov at the College of Winter Sages. His knowledge of blood magic traditions may help us understand how these techniques reached Grimhall and how best to counter them."
The assignment was both an acknowledgment of her specialized knowledge and a diplomatic way to remove her from direct confrontation with Grimhall forces. Malgorzata understood the reasoning—her presence in border patrols might be seen as escalation given her reputation—but still felt a flicker of frustration at being sent from the potential battlefield.
"When do I depart?" she asked, accepting the assignment without visible reaction.
"Tomorrow at first light," Radek replied. "This matter cannot wait. Leif Thorsson will accompany you to provide firsthand testimony of what he witnessed."
With assignments distributed, the council moved to practical matters—patrol schedules, supply considerations, and communication protocols. Malgorzata participated as required, offering input on tactical questions while mentally preparing for her journey to Frostford.
The College of Winter Sages was the northernmost formal institution for magical study, established centuries ago as a compromise between traditional Nordmen practices and the more structured approach of southern magical traditions. Magister Volkov served as its current head, a position that made him both respected and somewhat suspect in the eyes of more traditional clan members. His expertise in blood magic was unquestioned, but his willingness to study forbidden techniques—albeit theoretically—had earned him a controversial reputation.
As the council concluded, Radek approached Malgorzata while other members filed out of the hall. Kazimir joined them, forming the small family circle that had once included their mother before illness claimed her five winters past.
"You understand why I'm sending you to Frostford rather than the border," Radek said without preamble.
Malgorzata nodded. "My history with the Crimson Path makes me valuable for intelligence but potentially provocative in direct confrontation."
"There's more." Her father's voice lowered further. "If Grimhall has truly obtained these blood enhancement techniques, we need to know how to counter them. Your experience—"
"My experience nearly killed me," she interrupted, keeping her own voice equally low. "And it did kill Kazimir's leg and future chieftainship. I'm not eager to revisit those methods, even as countermeasures."
Radek's expression hardened slightly. "Yet you keep the journals. And the substances."
The observation wasn't a question, and Malgorzata didn't bother denying it. Her father had always known about her private collection of knowledge and materials salvaged from her time with the Crimson Path. He had tacitly permitted it while maintaining official ignorance—a compromise that protected both her and his position as enforcer of clan laws regarding forbidden magic.
"Knowledge contained is better than knowledge lost or spreading unchecked," she said, using one of his own frequent sayings.
"Indeed." A hint of approval softened his stern features. "Which is why you go to Volkov, not the border. Learn what he knows, share what you must of your own knowledge, and return with something that gives our warriors a fighting chance against these blood-enhanced raiders."
Kazimir shifted his weight, drawing their attention. "There's another possibility we haven't discussed openly. What if Grimhall isn't acting independently? What if they've made alliance with the Crimson Path or similar southern groups?"
The suggestion sent a chill through Malgorzata. During her captivity, she had learned enough about the Crimson Path's ambitions to know they sought to spread their influence beyond southern territories. An alliance with a northern clan would give them a foothold in a region traditionally resistant to outside magical practices.
"All the more reason to consult Volkov," Radek said. "His network of correspondents extends throughout the known world. If southern blood mages are operating in our territories, he may have heard whispers."
He placed a hand on Malgorzata's shoulder—the right one, she noted, always careful of her old injury. "Be thorough but swift. If this situation escalates as I fear it might, we'll need every advantage."
With that, he departed to oversee preparations for the border patrols, leaving Malgorzata alone with her brother. For a moment, neither spoke, the weight of shared history and unresolved tensions filling the space between them.
"Frostford," Kazimir said finally. "You haven't been back since..."
"Since we returned from the south," she finished. "No, I haven't."
Frostford held complicated memories for both of them. It had been their last stop before the ill-fated expedition that had led to their capture by the Crimson Path. Later, it had been where Kazimir had spent months recovering from his injuries while Malgorzata continued the hunt for their former captors. The town represented both the beginning and end of the most difficult chapter in their lives.
"Magister Volkov helped save my leg," Kazimir said, his tone carefully neutral. "What was left of it, anyway. His blood magic knowledge exceeds most healers I've encountered."
"I remember." Malgorzata studied her brother's face, noting the subtle signs of pain he had learned to disguise from others but could never fully hide from her. "Does it still trouble you in cold weather?"
A slight shrug. "No more than your shoulder, I imagine."
The comparison was fair. Both carried permanent reminders of their captivity and escape—his more visible, hers more easily concealed but no less limiting.
"Leif Thorsson is young for such a mission," Kazimir continued, changing the subject. "Barely blooded in normal combat, let alone facing blood magic users."
"You think Father should have chosen someone else?"
"I think Father is testing him—and providing you with someone you'll feel compelled to protect, ensuring you don't take unnecessary risks yourself."
Malgorzata couldn't help the short laugh that escaped her. "He grows more manipulative with age."
"He grows more determined to keep his remaining children alive," Kazimir corrected, a rare gentleness entering his voice. "After Mother, after what happened to us in the south... he calculates every risk twice over."
The observation carried no resentment, only a strategist's appreciation for effective tactics. Kazimir had always understood their father better than she did, recognizing the careful reasoning behind decisions that sometimes seemed arbitrary or overly cautious to Malgorzata's more action-oriented perspective.
"I'll watch over Leif," she promised. "And I'll be careful in my dealings with Volkov. The Magister has his own agenda, as all practitioners of his caliber do."
"Good." Kazimir hesitated, then added, "There's something else you should know before you leave. Something I haven't shared with Father yet."
Malgorzata raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"Our traders who returned from Eastshore last month reported rumors of unusual blood magic manifestations in several regions. Not organized like the Crimson Path, but spontaneous—individuals suddenly developing abilities beyond their training or tradition."
"Manifestations like what?"
"Varied. A healer in some small town suddenly able to cure ailments that should have been beyond his skill. A merchant's daughter whose verification magic began showing her visions rather than just detecting lies." Kazimir's gaze was intent. "Isolated incidents, but occurring across different regions with no apparent connection."
Malgorzata considered this information, unsure of its relevance to her mission but trusting her brother's judgment in sharing it. "You think it might connect to what's happening with Clan Grimhall?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But the timing seems... significant. Ask Volkov about it if the opportunity arises naturally. His perspective might be valuable."
She nodded, filing the information away for potential use. "I should prepare for tomorrow's journey. Frostford is three days' ride in good weather, and the mountain passes may still have snow."
Kazimir reached out suddenly, gripping her forearm in the traditional warrior's farewell. "Blood and bone, sister. Return safely."
"Blood and bone, brother," she replied automatically, returning the grip. "Keep Father from declaring full war on Grimhall before I return."
A ghost of a smile. "I make no promises."
They parted then, each to their respective duties. Malgorzata returned to her quarters, mind already cataloging the preparations needed for the journey. Beyond practical considerations of supplies and weapons, she needed to decide what materials from her private collection to bring—what knowledge might be safely shared with Magister Volkov and what should remain her closely guarded secret.
The wooden case with its three vials presented the most difficult decision. The substances within represented the most tangible evidence of her time with the Crimson Path, carefully preserved despite the danger they posed. The dark red liquid was a stabilized blood compound used in their enhancement rituals. The gray powder served as a neutralizing agent for certain types of blood magic. The clear solution was perhaps the most dangerous—a catalyst that could amplify magical effects unpredictably.
After careful consideration, she packed the vial of gray powder, wrapped in protective layers and hidden in a secret compartment of her traveling pack. The neutralizing agent might prove useful if they encountered enhanced Grimhall warriors, and its existence was easier to explain than the other substances. The remaining vials she returned to their hiding place, securing the chest with its special lock before continuing her preparations.
By the time darkness fell over Frosthold, Malgorzata had completed her packing and made necessary arrangements for her absence. She spent the evening hours reviewing her journal notes on blood enhancement techniques and their potential countermeasures, committing key details to memory in case the physical records were lost or seized during her journey.
Sleep came fitfully, disturbed by dreams that blended memories with anxieties about the mission ahead. In these dreams, she stood again in the ritual chamber where the Crimson Path had conducted their experiments, watching as they performed the blood enhancement ritual on captured warriors. But now the subjects wore Grimhall colors, and the mage directing the ritual had her own face—a distorted reflection of her deepest fears about the knowledge she carried.
She woke before dawn, the dream's images still vivid behind her eyes. Outside, the first hints of gray light outlined the mountains surrounding Frosthold. In a few hours, she would be riding toward Frostford and whatever awaited her there—answers, perhaps, or merely more complex questions about the spreading influence of blood magic across the known world.
As she performed her morning ablutions with water so cold it numbed her fingers, Malgorzata reflected on the path that had brought her to this point. The choices that had led her from traditional warrior training to specialized knowledge of forbidden blood magic had rarely felt like choices at all—merely necessary responses to circumstances beyond her control. Yet each step had carried her further from the straightforward honor code of her upbringing and deeper into the morally ambiguous territory where power and knowledge blurred ethical boundaries.
Now, as blood magic practices long contained within specific cultures began spreading across traditional boundaries, she found herself in the uncomfortable position of both expert and cautionary example. Her knowledge might help protect her clan from these emerging threats, but that same knowledge represented precisely the kind of dangerous proliferation the old treaties had sought to prevent.
The irony was not lost on her as she donned her traveling clothes and strapped on her weapons. In seeking to counter blood magic's spread, she would inevitably contribute to it through her consultations with Volkov and whatever countermeasures they developed together.
Perhaps that was the true nature of blood magic—not good or evil in itself, but a power that transformed all who touched it, spreading through the world like blood through veins, carrying both life and the potential for corruption wherever it flowed.
Malgorzata secured her cloak against the pre-dawn chill and lifted her pack. Whatever philosophical questions troubled her mind, her duty remained clear: protect the clan, fulfill her father's mission, and perhaps find answers to questions that had haunted her since her escape from the Crimson Path.
With one last glance at the locked chest containing her darkest secrets, she stepped out into the gray mountain morning, ready to face whatever blood and fate had in store.