CHAPTER 72: [72] RATED E FOR EVERYONE

"Bow before the Frozen Throne, Knight Commander."

Massive icicles hung from the cathedral ceiling like crystalline daggers, catching the cold blue light that filtered through frost-covered windows. Xavier stood hidden behind a column of ice, watching the scene unfold in the cavernous throne room.

A figure knelt before an enormous throne carved from what appeared to be a single block of glacial ice. The kneeling knight wore armor that seemed to be made of the same material—translucent plates that shifted between blue and white depending on how the light hit them.

On the throne sat a being Xavier could only describe as the Ice King. His features were sharp and angular, his skin pale blue with intricate patterns of frost spreading across his face. A crown of jagged ice spikes rose from his head, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural white light.

"The southern territories have fallen, my lord," the knight reported, head bowed. "The Knights of the Eternal Flame push northward with each passing day."

"They think their flames can melt my domain?" The Ice King’s voice echoed through the chamber, carrying the crack and rumble of glaciers breaking. "Let them come. Winter has ruled these lands for ten thousand years. Their summer is but a fleeting moment."

"The gates remain secure, but—"

"Do not speak to me of gates, Commander." The Ice King rose from his throne, frost spreading across the floor with each step he took. "I have lived too long to fear what lies beyond them."

The knight kept his head bowed. "Of course, my lord."

Xavier tried to back away, to leave this place that felt both alien and somehow familiar, but his foot crunched on a patch of ice. The sound, tiny as it was, echoed through the chamber.

The Ice King’s head snapped toward Xavier’s hiding spot, those glowing white eyes narrowing.

"I see you, watcher," he said, his voice suddenly inside Xavier’s head.

Xavier gasped as the Ice King pointed directly at him, and the temperature plummeted. Frost began to form on Xavier’s skin, creeping up his arms and legs, turning his blood to ice—

"Fuck!" Xavier bolted upright in bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. The clock on the entertainment system read 6:30 AM. His skin felt clammy with sweat despite the cool air of the apartment.

That dream again.

He’d been having variations of it for the past few days—always the same ice castle, always the same king, though the conversations changed. Xavier rubbed his face, trying to shake off the lingering chill. The dreams felt significant somehow, like they were trying to tell him something, but he had nothing to go on.

He reached for his phone and did a quick search for "ice king dreams meaning." The results were useless—generic interpretations about emotional coldness or feeling stuck in life. Nothing about detailed visions of fantasy ice castles or kings discussing mysterious gates.

He needed to meet Aurora for their workout at 7:00 AM. He’d agreed to it yesterday during their impromptu dinner, and despite the interrupted sleep, he intended to keep his word.

Xavier padded silently to the bedroom door and eased it open. The hinges gave a slight protest, but not enough to disturb the sleepers within. He slipped inside, navigating through the darkness toward the dresser where he kept his workout clothes.

The room was filled with the gentle sounds of breathing. As his eyes adjusted, Xavier could make out two forms on the bed. Elaine lay on her back, one arm flung above her head, while Calypso had curled onto her side, silver hair spilling across the pillow.

Both women were snoring slightly—Elaine with soft, rhythmic sounds, and Calypso with tiny, almost imperceptible catches in her breath. The goddess of reincarnation, snoring. It was almost too much.

He located his workout clothes in the second drawer and extracted them carefully, wincing when the drawer made a soft scraping sound. Calypso stirred, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "reroll," before settling back into sleep.

Back in the living room, Xavier changed quickly and grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen. He checked his phone again—6:37AM. He had time to do a bit more research before meeting Aurora.

He typed "recurring dreams about ice castles" into his phone’s search bar. Most results were about general dream interpretation, but one link caught his attention: "Dimensional Bleed in Dream States: A Study of Cross-Reality Perception."

The article was dense with academic jargon, but the gist seemed to be that some researchers believed certain dreams could be glimpses into parallel dimensions or alternate realities. The theory suggested that during deep REM sleep, the boundaries between dimensions grew thin, allowing for limited perception across these barriers.

It sounded like pseudoscience, but after being reincarnated by a goddess, Xavier wasn’t ready to dismiss anything outright.

He bookmarked the article for later and headed out.

The elevator carried him down to the second floor, where the building’s modest gym was located. When the doors opened, Xavier was surprised to find Aurora already there, stretching beside a weight rack.

Despite the early hour, she looked fully awake, her crimson hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore a sports bra and tight shorts that showcased her athletic build. When she spotted him, her golden eyes lit up.

"Xavier! You actually showed up!" Aurora bounced on her toes, grinning widely. "I thought you’d bail."

"It’s only 6:45," Xavier said, checking his phone. "You’re early."

"Always am. Can’t waste daylight." She performed a side lunge, extending one leg fully. "Plus, I wanted to claim the good equipment before the weekend warriors show up."

Xavier surveyed the empty gym. "Looks like we have the place to ourselves."

"For now." Aurora straightened and planted her hands on her hips. "So, what’s your poison? Cardio? Weights? Combat training?"

"I haven’t exactly been following a regular fitness regimen."

Aurora circled him, eyes narrowed in assessment. "Not bad base material. Good muscle tone, decent flexibility judging by how you move." She poked his stomach. "Core needs work though."

Xavier stepped back. "I was thinking of starting with something simple. Treadmill, maybe."

Aurora’s nose wrinkled in disgust. "Boring. We’re hunters, Xavier. We train for combat." She jerked her thumb toward a padded area in the corner. "Let’s spar."

"At 6:45 in the morning?"

"Best time for it! Body’s cold, mind’s not fully awake—perfect conditions to train your instincts. Come on, I’ll go easy on you."

I do need to test this bodies capabilities...

"Fine," he said. "But no Essentia. Just basic hand-to-hand."

"Deal!" Aurora was already moving toward the mat.

Was she this enthusiastic about everything? Xavier followed more sedately, analyzing her movement. Despite her small stature—she couldn’t be more than 5’7"—Aurora moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to physical confrontation. The way she positioned herself on the mat, automatically finding the optimal stance, suggested formal training.

"Ground rules," Xavier said, stepping onto the padded surface. "Contact only, no follow-through. First to three solid hits wins."

Aurora’s grin widened. "Trying to handicap me already, Xavier?"

"Just being practical. We have class on Monday."

"Fine, fine." She settled into a fighting stance, hands raised. "Ready when you are."

Xavier mirrored her stance. Aurora Fitzgerald, Class 1-D. Enhancement-type Essentia that built momentum through consecutive strikes. Irish background, based on her accent. Excitable personality that probably translated to an aggressive fighting style.

"Any day now," Aurora prompted, bouncing lightly on her toes.

Xavier decided to test her patience. He remained motionless, watching her eyes, her breathing, the slight shifts in her weight distribution. Ten seconds passed. Twenty.

Aurora’s eyes narrowed. "If you don’t move, I will."

"I’m waiting for you to make a mistake," Xavier said calmly.

"Ha!" Aurora darted forward suddenly, faster than Xavier anticipated. She threw a straight jab at his face, pulling the punch just short of contact. "One-zero, me."

Xavier blinked. And here I thought we were going to take it easy first.

"Sorry," Aurora said, not looking sorry at all. "Did I go too fast for you?"

"Not at all," he said, settling deeper into his stance.

This time, when Aurora came at him, Xavier was ready. He slipped her first punch, countered with a strike toward her ribs that she easily blocked, then spun away from her follow-up kick.

They circled each other, Aurora still grinning, Xavier more focused now. When she attacked again, he used her momentum against her, sidestepping and tapping her shoulder as she passed.

Too easy.

"One-one."