by descolada9
Eino Kaniini was seven years old the night his mother led him into the bog and pushed his head beneath the water — an offering to one of the demonic Primals that rule the northern wastes. He survived. He ran. He never saw her again. For two years he lived as no one, scraping by in the market alleys of Viljala, until an Imperial Crusader pulled him into the room of a tavern one night and, with his dying breath, passed into him the FrostFire — a power the Empire has wielded for centuries and understands but little. Now he is marked for death. The Primals want to claim the power that they may assail the gods in their heavens. Laying claim to his soul would serve as a delightful dessert. The Empire's own priesthood wants it too — but the only rite that can take the FrostFire from a living bearer is the bearer's own death. Between Eino and everyone who covets what he carries stands a single detachment of Crusaders, sworn by Guest-Law to keep him breathing. They didn't choose to become a family. But the demons don't care what they meant to be — only what they are now: the last thing standing between a seven-year-old boy and every power in the world that wants him gone.
