High above the central courtyard of Valoria Academy, the morning sun broke through a dense layer of autumn mist, casting long, pale beams of light across the frosted rooftops of the North Dormitory wing. Inside a small, sparsely furnished study room on the second floor, a young girl named Thalia sat shivering at a wooden writing desk, her hands wrapped tightly around a cold ceramic mug of herbal tea. She was a first-year student specializing in ice magic—a discipline that required absolute emotional chill and precise spiritual detachment. Yet, looking at the desk in front of her, it was painfully obvious that her spiritual control was an absolute disaster. The entire surface of the wooden desk was completely encased in a thick, jagged layer of hard blue ice. Stray frost crystals crept up the legs of the chair and feathered across the window glass, freezing the sash shut. Worse still, a delicate, glowing silver pendant lying beside her inkwell—a family heirloom gifted to her by her grandmother—was trapped firmly at the center of a solid block of frost, completely inaccessible. Thalia sniffled, her breath pluming into tiny clouds of vapor in the unheated room. Tears welled up in her pale blue eyes, threatening to spill over. "I can't do it," Thalia whispered to herself, her voice cracking with despair. "Every time I try to channel ice mana into my crafting exercises, my emotions get the better of me. The frost freezes everything solid instead of shaping into a vessel. If I can't pass today's practical evaluation with Professor Thorne, the academy will strip my scholarship, and I'll have to return home in disgrace." In the original game lore of Chronicles of Valoria, Thalia was a minor side character whose academic failure usually served as a tragic background note for the harsh realities faced by common-born students in elite institutions. She lacked the cold, unyielding aristocratic background required to master high-tier ice magic naturally, and her inner anxiety always sabotaged her mana flow, turning her spells into destructive, uncontrolled freezes. As Thalia reached out with a trembling, frost-bitten finger to touch the ice encasing her family pendant, the door to her study room creaked open. Standing in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame with his dark fur-lined cloak hanging loosely over his shoulders and an ivory-handled cane in his hand, was Professor Nikolai Reindhart. He looked as though he had been dragged out of bed ten minutes too early, his eyes half-closed and his expression radiating supreme, unadulterated weariness. Thalia gasped, pulling her hand back instantly and scrambling to stand up, knocking her chair backward with a sharp clatter. "P-Professor Reindhart!" Thalia stammered, bowing her head quickly. "I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to skip the morning lecture block, my room was just... my magic went out of control again, and I got locked inside!" Nikolai sighed, a long, weary exhalation that drifted into the cold air of the room. He slowly stepped across the threshold, his boots crunching lightly over a patch of stray frost on the floorboards. Another frozen room, Nikolai thought, feeling a profound, heavy ache in his chest as he looked at the terrified, shivering girl. Why is it that every time I try to enjoy a quiet morning, someone's magical emotional baggage decides to turn their living quarters into a glacier? "Put the chair upright, Thalia," Nikolai drawled, his voice carrying a soothing, low resonance that immediately cut through the girl's panic. "And stop bowing before you give yourself frostbite on your own floor." Thalia blinked, quickly righting the chair with shaking hands. She looked down at the desk, her face flushing crimson with shame. "I'm sorry, Professor. The ice instructors told me my temperament is all wrong. They said ice magic requires a frozen heart, and because I'm constantly worried about my family and my scholarship, my mana crystallizes too fast and destroys everything it touches." Nikolai walked slowly around the desk, ignoring the freezing temperature of the room. He reached down and touched the edge of the solid block of ice encasing the silver pendant with his bare finger. "Your instructors are simpletons who read too many bad romance novels," Nikolai muttered flatly. "Ice doesn't require a frozen heart, Thalia. Ice is simply water that has learned how to rest. It's patient, protective, and quiet. You're trying to freeze your emotions out of fear, which is why your magic feels like a desperate cage instead of a shield." As Nikolai spoke, the passive, overwhelming weight of his hidden traits washed over the desk. The jagged, aggressive frost encasing the wood and the silver pendant didn't shatter violently; instead, it smoothly softened, melting away into gentle, sparkling vapor that vanished into the air like morning dew. The family heirloom slid free, clean and undamaged, resting peacefully on the bare wood. Thalia gasped, her pale blue eyes widening in utter disbelief as she picked up the pendant, finding it warm to the touch. "It... it's free," Thalia whispered, tears of relief finally spilling over her cheeks. "How... how did you do that without a single spell formula?" "By telling the ice to calm down, exactly as I'm telling you to calm down," Nikolai drawled, turning toward the door with a sluggish wave of his hand. "Now, go wash your face, eat something warm, and tell Professor Thorne that your magic is fixed for today's evaluation. And please, try not to freeze your door shut again; some of us have a very tight schedule of doing nothing." Without waiting for her profuse thanks, Nikolai shuffled out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He ambled back down the stone hallway of the North Dormitory, heading toward the faculty lounge to secure a much-needed cup of hot tea. But as he turned the corner near the grand staircase, he noticed a familiar figure standing by the tall stained-glass window, staring out at the courtyard with a look of deep, unsettled concentration. It was Professor Selena Thorne. Her midnight-blue silk robes rustled softly as she turned her head, her stormy eyes locking instantly onto Nikolai. The memory of the subterranean vault incident the previous night still hung heavily between them, a silent tension that neither of her academic colleagues had yet addressed. "Reindhart," Selena called out, her voice sharp, melodic, and carrying a guarded, probing edge. "We need to talk about what happened down in the archives. You can't just—" Before Selena could finish her sentence, a loud, frantic bell began to toll from the central clock tower of the academy, its heavy bronze sound echoing across the entire campus. At the same same time, a shimmering, blood-red barrier rune flared violently to life across the outer perimeter gates of Valoria, casting an ominous crimson light over the morning mist. Selena froze, her stormy eyes widening in shock as she looked toward the gates. Nikolai stopped walking, his face dropping into an expression of profound, absolute grievance as he stared at the crimson sky.

Chapter 23: Frost on the Windowpane