The Embersteel Wall

The warmth in the air that night was new and unexpected. A low hum. At first, there were maybe a few floating here and there, and we didn’t really notice them. The little children who were playing outside had stopped and started chasing them. And then more arrived, and they were everywhere.

Everyone started gathering outside for the wondrous insects. Coalbugs. They usually lived in mines, or underground, close to the center of the earth. Other cities had coalbugs in their mines. They eat coal and use that to create their own heat. They were attracted to heat, but Frostip was a small town in the middle of an icy tundra. So they had never come here before.

It started off as a celebration. The people of Frostip rejoiced and were thankful for the warmth. But more and more arrived that night and soon the air was increasingly warm.

And then began our troubles.

Our homes are practically hollowed out blocks of ice, with wooden stakes for windows and most had a fire within them. So by morning there were small puddles of water wherever the coalbugs had gathered. Coalbugs like to form giant clumps of heat with their bodies, especially in colder climates.

By mid-day, the ground had turned to slush and the ice cracked. Our homes were melting away and were slick with runoff. Some people had started to pack their belongings and set up temporary homes in the mountains.

The town leader, Viouka, gathered the people the next day. The ground was steaming where the coalbug clumps lay and the air around them was burning, so they all met outside of town, away from the coalbugs, by the big ice wall they built to keep out Frewdtown’s soldiers.

“People of Frostip town.” She began.

“The coalbugs are infesting our town, and if we don’t get rid of them soon, our homes will consist of nothing but puddles.”

The townspeople whispered with worry.

“Excuse me.” A man said. “I was a miner in Frewdtown before moving here. The coalbugs were terrible pests, always eating our coal, and burning us whenever we got close. So one day, someone accidentally discovered that embergrass smoke repels them. It was a funny story, how we discovered that, but it’s not important right now.”

A girl stepped forward. She had walnut brown hair and her eyes were a steely silver blue.

“I have an embergrass basket.” She said, and held out a large woven basket, pulsing red, like embers wherever she touched it.

“I’m not sure it’s helpful.” She said timidly, stepping back a step.

Embergrass, like coalbugs, thrived where there was heat. Embergrass seeds could stay dormant forever, and when the sufficient amount of heat warmed it, it could sprout and become embergrass.

“Perhaps if the coalbugs warm the earth for long enough, dormant seeds could grow. Ancient records tell of a time when the earth was ablaze, and the embergrass sprouts smothered the fire. And a hundred years followed where the earth was covered in embergrass. Honestly, I wouldn't mind a thaw. The earth's been frozen for so long.” A man named Teller said.

Viouka pondered the inputs from the townsfolk.

“Maybe, but can the sprouts grow quick enough? Before our homes melt?” Viouka asked.

“Should we stay here? I mean, if the coalbugs want the land, should we really fight them? What if more come in? It could be best to just cut our losses and move away, preferably farther from Frewdtown.” The girl who spoke shuddered at the thought of the terrible empire.

Her question stirred another wave of whispers.

“Well,” Viouka said, “if we move, we leave behind everything we’ve built. I know this town isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. Staying means danger—we’d be fighting nature itself. But if we commit, we might just win.”

Hands rose. The decision was made—they would stay and fight.

“For now, here’s the plan. Zwaklia?”

The girl stepped forward.

“Would you allow us to burn your embergrass basket? The smoke will buy us time.”

Zwaklia nodded silently and slipped back into the crowd.

“We’ll build a stone box with a massive heat source to attract the coalbugs. If we generate enough heat, we might awaken dormant embergrass seeds. We’ll need a search team for wood. And though it’s a long shot, we might try negotiating with Frewdtown for more embergrass.”

The crowd murmured again, this time with cautious hope.

And so, the plan was carried out.

When the people selected the leader of the search team, they all turned to Teller, because of his knowledge of the area. He originally had moved here way before Frostip was founded, and had lived here for decades.

They built a shell—stone, hollow, and buried beneath the snow. It wasn’t meant to shelter people, but to trap heat and coax life from the frozen ground. Now they were waiting for wood.

While they built and searched, the embergrass basket was ripped into pieces and burnt around the clumps of coalbugs. Successfully, they were driven away, but it was only a matter of time.

One day, while Viouka was overseeing the construction of the stone shell, she spotted the search team. They weren’t meant to return until tomorrow. She hopped off the snow hill and ran to meet them.

“Did you find wood? Wait. Where’s Teller?”

The men looked at each other. “Avalanche hit. Teller got us out—barely. He’s alive, but... he got crushed. We dug him out. He’s unconscious. A few stayed behind with him. We’ll bring him back soon. We found a few trees, and chopped them down though.”

Viouka stumbled back a bit. “He’s okay?” her voice cracked.

“For now.” he said, as the others dropped off the logs.

Viouka tried to distract herself by loading the wood into the stone shell. She laid down the wood and ignored the splinters.

Viouka glanced up at the stone shell, remembering how Teller had helped dig the first watering ditch. He’d said, “If we can guide water, we can also guide life.” And had proceeded to show her how to keep the water warm enough to not freeze.

The people helped, though worried for him. Even those who didn’t know him were worried. So far, this was the closest they’d ever come to losing someone in this town.

Teller was the unofficial historian for their town. Always collecting little artifacts and displaying them in his home. Like one of the first seeds planted, or the first coat that Zeroa made. Little treasures. Each piece, a reminder of how far they’d come. They couldn’t give up now. And he always helped out in the community, like when he helped build the watering ditch.

Viouka started trying to trade with Frewdtown, worried that the plan was falling apart. Sending letters was the easy part. Receiving them would be terrifying. They had all the resources they needed to crush Frostip. And yet, they had only sent one small army.

A few days later, Teller arrived back in town. He had bruises on his face and smiled warmly at the people. But he didn’t say anything. The men that had escorted him back explained. “He can’t speak anymore.”

Viouka was devastated. She’d never expected this. At least he was alive. She wouldn’t know how to live if he didn’t survive. It was her responsibility to keep her people safe. Her heart ached, and she blinked back tears.

“Well, on the bright side, we found a forest. Cut down a ton of trees, and we're transporting them here now.” They tried to cheer her up.

At least she wouldn’t have to send anyone back out there for now.

That night they lit the fires. The wood burned and burned for hours without attracting a single coalbug. Viouka had shut herself into her home. Frozen drips hung from the ceiling.

Frewdtown had extended an invitation for all of Frostip to come harvest embergrass. The message had come wrapped in silk, sealed with Frewdtown’s crest. “Harvest freely,” it read. “Come in one week.”

No strings attached. It was extremely suspicious. Before she could agree, shouts came from her window, and she looked out, to see coalbug clumps gathering around the fire.

“Keep fueling the fires!” She shouted, running outside. Her heart soared, and the people rejoiced.

That night the snow around the fires melted, revealing bare ground. The water was evaporating from the snow quickly, and soon, all the coalbugs were gathered by the fire. The fire itself had died, but the heat was scorching.

And soon, little red sprouts were growing. But then, their hopes were crushed.

The following morning, a familiar low hum filled the air. It grew louder, deeper, until it was a roar. Shadows darkened the sky. Coalbugs—thousands. They fell like ash, coating rooftops, clawing at windows. Despair echoed through Frostip.

And in a panic, that night, Viouka accepted Frewdtown’s offer.

“We accept.” She wrote. And sent it back to Frewdtown attached to the ankle of a snow dove.

That day was spent watching their home melt and their crops shrivel. Everything was unraveling. They could do nothing.

The next day, they walked half the day to Frewdtown. Everything screamed it was unsafe, but fueled by desperation, they trudged onward. When they arrived at Frewdtown, the first thing they noticed was the towering wall of steel. It was stronger than they remembered. Taller and thicker. The people shouted their warnings, and the great steel doors opened.

A few Frewdtown guards greeted them. And the guards herded them towards the main tower.

“Our leader, Jhamn, wishes to speak to you.” He said, nodding at Viouka. “The rest of you may stay at our workhouses.”

More guards ushered the people toward the workhouses, while Viouka was led up the tower. The air smelled terrible. It smelled of smoke and sweat and rotting meat.

How did we get here? This was a terrible idea. Viouka thought. But what choice did I have? Why would the coalbugs just arrive at our town for seemingly no reason? It was the same question she was asking herself the whole week.

They eventually stopped climbing stairs. The guards shoved her into a narrow hallway, with hundreds of doors. Coalbugs trapped in glass lit the halls.

Viouka chewed on her cheek. Her heart was racing.

They turned a corner and she saw a silver door, dusted with ash.

The guards looked at her expectantly.

“Oh, I open the door?”

When they nodded, she took a deep breath, brushed her hair aside, and shoved against the heavy door. It opened silently, into a dark room.

The guards closed the door behind her, trapping her into the room, in pure darkness.

For a moment she panicked, but then a coalbug flickered and alighted, and so did a large clump on the ceiling.

And she saw, sitting on a metal stool, a man. He had murky brown eyes and black hair, and his eyes boring into hers. He didn’t speak. Just stared. His eyes were murky, unreadable.

“Welcome. To my city.” Jhamn said. His voice was sharp.

Viouka stepped back.

“You and your icy little town have been a thorn in my side. But I must thank you—for leading us to Athalune.”

“What are you talking about?” She shouted.

“Why do you think the coalbugs came? They’re attracted to heat. The warmth of Athalune must have been enough.”

Viouka thought for a second. “Did you send them? Somehow?”

He laughed. “No, but I can see why you think that.” He said.

“Imagine our surprise when our coalbugs flew off. Toward your town. It was the perfect opportunity.”

“No.” Viouka couldn’t breathe. Of course it was a trap.

“Why?”

“There’s something buried beneath Frostip. This book,” He tapped the cover of a small deep blue book. “Speaks of a spirit who buried a magical force under the town to protect the area from the ancient fires. It’s called Athalune. Perhaps it was where the first blade of embergrass grew. But it definitely played a part when we attacked your town not too long ago. The fires did nothing to your ice wall. We’ve been trying to get a hold of it. And now as we speak, it’s being dug up. The coalbugs were likely attracted to it.”

“If you dig it up,” she said, voice trembling, “You’ll unleash the fires again.”

“Exactly,” Jhamn said. “And this time, we’ll control them.”

“How?” Viouka muttered. It was barely audible.

“The book. It states that whoever can find and control Athalune will become the ruler of all the world. Its power can become a devastating weapon. It’s my destiny.”

Viouka tried to think. The fires that raged for so long, held back by a magical force beneath Frostip. And it was going to be unleashed.

“First a great thaw will come. The ground will melt and plant life will flourish. It will be beautiful. Green as far as the eye can see. But then it’ll dry up and die, and then the fires will consume the land. Then it'll be up to me to stop it. You and your people are welcome to stay with us for now. We have been preparing. The fires cannot possibly melt the metal our city is built from, you see.”

Viouka was numb. She couldn’t think straight. She barely noticed when the guards dragged her down the stairs, and towards the workhouses.

The people of Frostip were harvesting embergrass. But it was too late. She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to tell them.

“Everyone.” she said, her voice was sad and defeated. She couldn’t muster anything else.

“We already have more than enough embergrass, and seeds!” Zwaklia exclaimed, holding up embergrass by the fistful. The others cheered.

And slowly, she began to unravel the whole explanation. She couldn’t bear to look up at them. She’d failed them.

Tears blurred her vision and she stared at the black, sooty snow.

“You did a good job.” They all told her. Even Teller said it, with his smile.

It made her heart break.

The next day, there was an announcement that Athalune had been dug up. The spirit had been released, and the world would soon burn.

Everything happened exactly how Jhamn predicted. The snow melted. The air was filled with soot. Little sprouts began to grow, getting taller each day. It truly was a beautiful thing to witness. Little flowers bloomed, and beetles and insects began to buzz everywhere. The children entertained themselves by nurturing them, and helping them grow.

When Jhamn let them onto the city steel walls, they saw the endless fields of green and the sprouts of color from the flowers. It was beautiful.

And after a while, the air became hot and dry. The grass and plants dried up. Once again they were let up on the wall. Endless fields of gold.

And soon, there would be endless fields of fire. These coming days would be the warmest they’d ever experience.

The next day, Jhamn and a few guards went out into the golden field, to prepare to conquer it.

Viouka would never forget when she saw the wall of fire, coming towards Frewdtown. Jhamn had let them up onto the wall again.

It broke her heart to think of Frostip, a burning rubble of the life they once had.

The others were in despair. The guards and authorities treated them terribly, often never feeding them and forcing them to work long from dawn until dusk. But the people of Frewdtown were exceptionally kind. Perhaps they pitied the others.

The fires vanished one day.

“Jhamn must have conquered the fires.” Someone said,

Everyone had gathered on the walls. The earth was burnt. White ash blanketed the ground. Some of it swirled in the air. It reminded Viouka of the snow that used to stretch across the lands.

Later that night, the fires raged again. They reached high into the sky. The steel walls of Frewdtown kept them out, but they hugged the walls, continuing to reach higher and higher. The fires stretched taller and higher and eventually reached higher than Frewdtown’s walls.

Days melted into each other. Whether it was day or night, the fire greeted them.

Eventually, food started running out. Water ran dry and it was a struggle to survive in this heat. Everyone began to gather in the center of Frewdtown, away from the steel walls, which were always giving off heat waves.

Everyone started to move underground. It was cool and life was actually comfortable again. The ground water kept everyone fed and healthy.

Some ancient records say the fires lasted a thousand years. Others say a few days, months, or that they never stopped burning, just under the surface.

Because when they noticed that the caves had started to get cold, Viouka came out of the ground. The fires had ceased. All that was left of Frewdtown were hard metal lumps surrounding the town. The wall must have melted after all. Embergrass stretched into the horizon. It must have been at least a few months.

After Viouka gathered everyone that was left, they marveled at the breathtaking fields of embers that now coated their world, pulsing and glowing, like a heartbeat.

“Here. Where Frewdtown died, we can rise again. The fires that cleansed the world have given us an opportunity to start again.” Viouka said. She stood in the center of the large ring of melted metal. The people gathered inside, brushing their fingers on the melted walls.

And a new town was founded. They called it Embersteel.

The people helped build their new homes. They were made from mud and embergrass. And every year, the people celebrated by scattering embergrass seeds in the lumps of metal surrounding their town. Heating the area around it and watching embergrass sprout from the metal and from between the cracks. Harvesting the seeds and making bread with it. And the town really was surrounded by embergrass and steel. The Embersteel Wall.