After that day, we stopped talking entirely.
No arguments. No closure. Just silence.
I no longer trained them. Instead, I filled my days and most of my nights with guild paperwork, the same tedious reports and ledgers I used to finish long after midnight. It was easier that way. Quieter. Predictable.
I've never believed that having friends was a necessity. I lived alone once, without relying on anyone, without needing their warmth or approval. I can do it again. I sure as hell can do it.
Besides, later this afternoon I'm scheduled to meet the people I'll be accompanying on the next expedition. That much is already decided.
Right now, though, I stood in front of a familiar door, hesitating.
My hand hovered in the air.
Should I knock?
Or should I turn around and leave?
I lifted my hand slightly, then stopped. Lowered it. Raised it again.
"Should I…?" I murmured to myself.
Or not?
Before I could decide, a presence settled behind me, steady yet unmistakable.
"What are you doing?" Damian's voice came from just behind my shoulder.
I didn't flinch. I didn't turn around either.
"Nothing," I replied, flat and automatic.
He didn't question me further. Instead, he opened the door and stepped aside. "Then come inside."
I paused for only a heartbeat before moving, following him in like a stray kitten trailing after its mother reluctantly
The door closed behind us with a soft click, and for the first time in days, the silence felt suffocating.
Neither of us spoke for a while, until Damian finally broke the silence.
"Would you like some tea?"
"I'll do it," I said, rising from my seat. "Today, I'll brew it."
He blinked, clearly surprised. "That's unexpected. Cecilia Florence offering to make tea, are you sick?"
"No," I replied, reaching for the teapot. "I always wanted to brew tea for Dad, ever since I learned how, but…"
I stopped myself, realizing what I was about to say. I couldn't believe myself I almost let myself slip.
Damian's expression softened. "So that means I'm the first one to drink tea you've brewed."
"Of course not," I said, pouring the tea into the cups. "Nox was the first."
"That shadow-like bastard?" he muttered, sounding genuinely dejected. "He was the one who got the honour?"
"Who else was with me besides Nox?" I said as I set a cup in front of him. "He drank everything until I finally learned to brew it properly."
Damian lifted the cup, inhaling the steam. "Then let's see if it tastes as good as it smells." A pause, a faint smile. "It smells wonderful. If it tastes good, I'll show you something nice."
I had never made tea for anyone other than Nox, and I wasn't sure if anyone else would even like it. I watched Damian closely as he took a sip, letting the silence stretch as he savoured it.
"Well…"
"It's…" He set the cup down gently, looking up at me. "It tastes amazing. I love it."
For a moment, I just stared at him.
"…You do?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, quieter than I intended.
Damian chuckled softly, lifting the cup again. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." He took another sip, slower this time. "It's gentle. Not overpowering. Feels… thought out."
I looked away, focusing on the steam curling from my own cup. "I adjusted the leaves. The bitterness lingers too long if you don't."
"Hm." He hummed in approval. "You remember details like that."
Silence settled again, but this time it was different, lighter. Not pressing on my chest.
"I didn't expect you to come today," Damian said at last.
"I didn't expect to be standing there either," I replied honestly. "I was deciding whether to leave."
"But you didn't."
"No." I curled my fingers around the cup. "I didn't."
He studied me over the rim of his tea. "You don't have to explain yourself, Cecilia."
"I know." A pause. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to."
His eyes softened, just slightly. He set the cup down. "Then take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
I don't know when it began but I started to believe him.
I took a careful sip of my own tea. It tasted the same as always but somehow, sitting across from him, it felt warmer.
"I'm sorry for destroying the courtyard," I said quietly.
"But you fixed it too," Damian replied. "Honestly, I've only ever seen two people use the courtyard to vent their anger like that, you and Ronan." He chuckled. "Runs in the family, I suppose."
"Father did the same?" I asked. "Tell me more."
"Of course he did. He was far worse than you," Damian said with a grin. "You still listen to me sometimes. Ronan was a disaster. He never listened to anyone… until he met Astrid. Your mother."
Warmth spread through my chest as I listened to stories of my parents, each word filling a space I hadn't realized was empty.
"And… tell me more."
He laughed. "Aren't you getting a little greedy now?" Then he paused, as if remembering something. "Oh—I almost forgot. I found a letter from Ronan. He asked me to open it on a specific date."
"Dad… gave you a letter?" I said softly. "What does it say?"
"I haven't opened it yet."
The envelope looked old. Had he written it back when he was still in the academy? Or after he married? And… had he left anything for me?
After Damian finished reading, he set the letter down and looked at me.
"So?" I asked again. "What did it say?"
"I opened it after ten years," he began. "And the first thing your father wrote…" He shook his head. "I still can't believe him."
"Come on," I pressed. "Don't do that. Don't leave me hanging. What does it say?"
He sighed. "He wrote that I am your guardian and your godfather until you come of age." He hesitated. "And that I was supposed to…" He stopped himself.
"And what?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "It was something meant for me." Then, changing the subject, he added, "Now hurry along. Aren't you meeting your seniors today?"
"I am—" I started, but Damian was already pushing me toward the door.
As I stepped into the hall, I muttered, "Suspicious. Nox, can you check what he's hiding?"
"I already am," Nox replied. "And you should hurry. There's some bad news waiting for you."
What bad news could possibly be waiting for me?
I knew the seniors had posted a notice trying to recruit more students for the expedition, but not a single one had signed up. We were leaving tomorrow there was no way someone would suddenly decide to join now. Besides, each year had its own building, and those buildings were practically miles apart.
After forty-five minutes of walking, I finally reached the meeting place. I knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside.
Cael was already there, accompanied by another professor.
"Miss Cecilia, you're early," he said.
"I'm right on time," I replied. "You know how punctual I am."
One by one, the others arrived and with them, the bad news Nox had warned me about.
Perfect. I now have to see her face on this expedition.
"Let me introduce everyone," Cael said. "Starting with the second year: Miss Cecilia and Miss Vivian."
After Cael finished, the other professor spoke. "I'm Professor Soleil, supervisor of this expedition and instructor for the fifth-year students."
"I'm Renoir," a student said next. "I'm a mage and the leader of this expedition."
"I'm Cerise," another added. "A knight."
"And I'm Yeshe," the last one said. "Also a knight."
As they introduced themselves, something kept nagging at me. Senior Renoir reminded me of someone I'd seen at the festival but at the same time, he felt… different.
"Apologies, Instructor Cael," Renoir said, "but we specifically requested Miss Cecilia."
Nice one, leader.
"Well," Cael replied, "Miss Vivian was quite adamant about joining this expedition. I didn't have much choice but to allow her."
Professor Soleil questioned, "Renoir, you never mentioned wanting to bring Miss Cecilia along. When did you even meet her?"
"Actually, Professor," Cerise spoke up instead, "we saw her destroying the courtyard and her fight with Asier. After that, we decided we wanted her with us."
"We considered bringing Asier as well," Yeshe added, "but we reconsidered. Those two would just fight the entire time."
Professor Soleil laughed softly. "If that's what you children want, then enjoy yourselves on the expedition." She turned toward the door. "I'll leave the rest of the discussion to you."
And just like that, the room felt a little more dangerous than it had a moment ago. The air in the room grew heavier, colder.
"So," Senior Renoir began. Everyone's attention briefly flicked to Vivian, then settled back on him. "There's no need for formalities among us. You can call us by our names, if you like."
"Understood, leader," I replied.
"As everyone here knows, we'll be leaving for the Northern expedition tomorrow," he continued. "It will be a long journey, and by the time we return, winter will have set in. I called this meeting to discuss our strategy moving forward and to assign roles."
He spoke with confidence. Leading others was a skill few truly possessed, and fewer still knew how to use properly.
"Senior," Vivian raised her hand, "about those roles… will we be working in groups?"
"What did I just say?" Renoir replied flatly. "If anyone else has a stupid question, feel free to ask it now."
He didn't wait for anyone to speak.
"The dungeon we're heading to is an Ice Fortress," he said, and the name alone felt like a curse being dragged across the room. "It isn't just a structure. It's a grave. A place built to erase those who enter it."
His voice lowered, roughened.
"The cold there doesn't numb, it eats. It gnaws through armour, spells, and flesh alike. Your breath freezes in your lungs. Blood thickens, joints lock, skin cracks open like porcelain. People don't collapse. They shatter."
The silence was heavy. No one breathed a single breath.
"The halls are lined with ice so clear you can see what's trapped inside adventurers frozen mid-scream, hands clawing at nothing, eyes wide and begging. The fortress doesn't bury its dead. It displays them. A warning etched in frost."
He took a slow breath.
"And the monsters…" His voice dropped further. "They aren't just beasts. They're the ones who didn't die fast enough."
They drift through walls, slipping into your body through your breath and freezing your organs from the inside out. Frostbound knights, once human, dragging rusted blades fused to their hands, animated by hatred and cold. Packs of white abominations that crawl on too many limbs, their bones exposed and rimed with ice, sniffing for warmth like starving animals.
His gaze darkened.
"Beneath the floors, things move. Massive shapes coil under the ice, listening for heartbeats, cracking the ground open beneath you when you stop paying attention for even a second."
A pause. Heavy. Deliberate.
"Most parties never die in battle."
"They get lost. Separated. Picked off one by one. Or they freeze in place and stay conscious long enough to understand they're becoming part of the walls."
"No one comes back. No maps stay accurate. The fortress shifts, seals exits, and collapses paths behind you. Once you cross the threshold, you're no longer considered missing."
He looked directly at me.
"You're considered gone."
"That's where you come in, Cecilia," he finished. "Because that place doesn't forgive weakness. It doesn't allow retreat."
A thin, grim smile. Plastered on his face, "And if we fail… the Ice Fortress won't just kill us."
"It will keep us for eternity."
"You can pair up with any of us," Cerise added, after Renoir finished talking.
"What if I want to fight alone?" I asked dryly. "I don't like others slowing me down."
There was a brief pause.
"You may," Renoir said at last, "as long as you stay within range of the group."
"I can do that."
"Then the rest of us will pair up," Renoir decided. "I'll go with Cerise. Yeshe, you'll be with Vivian."
"That's not fair, Renoir," Yeshe protested.
"I'll do my best not to disappoint you, Senior," Vivian said politely.
And Yeshe clicked his tongue.
"By the way," I interjected, turning back to Renoir, "how exactly are we getting to the North? Especially if we're returning in winter. Don't tell me you were planning to walk or take a carriage the entire way."
Silence fell over the room.
Unbelievable. "What about teleportation?" I asked.
"It's expensive," Renoir said. "And we don't have enough funds as it is."
"I heard you go on more expeditions than anyone else," I said coolly. "How do you not have enough funds? Don't you sell the monster cores?"
"Well… the thing is," one of them admitted shamelessly, "we never really collected the cores."
Someone grant me patience before I crack their skulls open.
I exhaled slowly. "I'll handle the teleportation. Just be at the South Gate tomorrow."
I turned toward the door. "I'll take my leave now."
I stopped, "Understand this," I said, without looking back. My voice was flat, stripped. "I won't save people who freeze up. I won't wait for those who hesitate."
The air dropped sharply.
There was no kindness in my voice. "If you slow me down," I continued, "you're dead. I won't be saving anyone."
I turned away then, already finished, already bored leaving them behind with the creeping cold, the echo of my words, and the unsettling realization that the Ice Fortress might not be the worst thing waiting for them anymore.
How could anyone be so stupid as to leave monster cores behind? They fetched a hefty sum, and yet those idiots had never bothered to collect a single one.
"Truly unbelievable."
"What's truly unbelievable?" Nox asked.
"You're back," I said, continuing down the corridor.
"Who's unbelievable?"
"The people I'm going north with," I replied. "Can you believe they've never collected monster cores? Not even once."
"Are they insane?" he scoffed. "Anyone with a sane head on their shoulders would grab them."
"Exactly." I exhaled. "So, what did you find?" I changed the subject.
"I have both good news and bad news," he said.
"More bad news?" I groaned.
"But good news too."
"At least wait until I'm at the tower before dropping the bad part on me."
I climbed up and sat on the roof, letting the evening wind brush through my hair. "Alright. What's the bad news?"
"The letter—the one where that brat was named your guardian and godfather," Nox said. "He only told you half of what was written."
I stiffened.
"Your father asked that man to look after you if anything ever happened to him," Nox continued. "And he wasn't supposed to open the letter ten years later. He was supposed to open it ten days later."
"That's…"
I trailed off, words failing me. My father had entrusted my well-being to someone who never came. Meanwhile, the family that once claimed to love me had made my life a living hell and eventually sold me to the temple.
"Are you angry?" Nox asked quietly.
"No," I said after a moment. "I'm not. And I don't know how I could be." I stared at the sky. "I stopped expecting things a long time ago. So I don't really care."
"I thought you'd be furious," he said. "Not this calm."
"Anger won't change anything," I replied. "Everything I endured is in the past. And I can't blame someone who didn't even know what was happening or had happened. But if they had known, that would be a different story."
"You've grown," Nox said, ruffling my hair.
"So," I said, forcing some lightness into my voice, "what's the good news?"
"You won't believe this," he said. "But brat number two is leaving for a while."
"Really?" I jumped to my feet, pumping my fist. "I can't believe he's leaving!"
"He's not leaving for good," Nox added, instantly bursting my bubble.
"I know." I laughed weakly. "Come on, let's go grab something sweet with Lux."
I leapt from the tower, only slowing when the ground drew too close, gliding just enough to soften the landing.
That was when I saw that vermin.
He was sitting beneath a tree, reading a letter. Just the sight of him was enough to sour my mood. I was about to walk past when I noticed his hand tremble faintly. His expression darkened with every line he read furious, restrained.
I kept walking.
Then, without knowing why, I stopped.
I turned back, stood five paces behind him, and tossed a piece of chocolate one I always carried straight at his face. Then ran away.
I knew he saw me. But for once, he didn't chase after me.
"What was that?" Nox asked, utterly stunned.
"I don't know," I said, running faster, straight to my room.
Only then did the regret crash down on me. How am I supposed to wake up tomorrow without cringing at myself?
Morning came far too quickly.
Of course it did after a night spent shamefully tossing and turning, it was inevitable. Morning never shows mercy.
I'd spent the entire night replaying the scene in my head, over and over, wondering why I'd thrown a piece of chocolate at that vermin's face. Of all things. Chocolate. I could still feel the secondhand embarrassment crawling up my spine.
"You can't erase it now," Nox said cheerfully, laughing as we stepped out of my room.
"Maybe I could forget if you erased my memory of last night," I muttered. "Which I've been begging you to do since yesterday." I jabbed a finger under my eyes. "Have you seen these dark circles?"
"Sorry, kiddo," he replied, laughing even harder. "Not happening. You'll just have to suffer the consequences."
I glared at him.
I completely hate him right now.
By the time I reached the South Gate, the place was already bustling with activity. Cold air brushed against my skin, carrying with it the promise of harsher lands ahead. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but winter was close. It wasn't; mornings are usually unnecessarily cold.
One by one, the others arrived. Renoir. Cerise. Yeshe. And, lastly, Vivian.
Their gear was packed and ready, expressions serious, anticipation mixing with unease. Good. At least someone was taking this seriously.
Cerise glanced around the gate, brow furrowing. "So… where's the carriage?"
"There won't be one," I said calmly.
Renoir turned toward me. "Then how exactly are we travelling north?"
I exhaled slowly and reached into my coat. From an inner pocket, I pulled out a scroll bound with silver thread, its surface etched with intricate runes that shimmered faintly in the morning light.
Yeshe's eyes widened. "Is that a—"
"A mid-range teleportation scroll," I finished.
Cerise stared at it, disbelief written plainly across his face. "You were serious about handling it yourself."
"I don't make empty offers."
Renoir studied the scroll for a long moment, then looked back at me. "Do you have any idea how expensive that is?"
"Is it supposed to be," I replied flatly.
Before anyone could respond, a small shape shifted behind me. Lux stretched lazily, then climbed up to settle comfortably against my shoulder, tail swaying with quiet satisfaction.
Renoir blinked. "Is that… a beast?"
"A familiar," I corrected.
Cerise lowered herself slightly, cautious. "Yours?"
"Yes."
Lux chirped softly and tilted his head, fluffy ears twitching as if he knew he was being admired.
"…Isn't he cute?" I added, completely deadpan.
There was a long pause.
"He's… fluffy," everyone said in unison.
I adjusted my coat, shifting Lux just enough to keep him comfortable. "If everyone's done being surprised, we should move. The dungeon won't clear itself."
Lux let out a cheerful chirp, clearly in agreement.
Before anyone could argue or ask more unnecessary questions. I unrolled the scroll and pressed my palm against the central sigil. Mana surged outward in a sudden rush, the runes flaring to life in pale blue light. The ground beneath us trembled as a teleportation circle bloomed outward, enveloping us completely.
The air folded.
The world shifted.
There we were standing in the third-largest city of the kingdom.
Elyria.
The city of adventurers and merchants, where everything could be bought and sold, from birth to death. If something existed, you could find it here. Legal goods, illegal goods, smuggled relics from other races… sometimes even those races themselves, moving through the crowds in careful disguise.
Naturally, this was not where we were supposed to be.
"Why are we here?" Renoir demanded, staring at the massive gates of Elyria in disbelief. "Shouldn't we be in Karghal, the city of the dwarves?" He gestured wildly at the entrance. "How did we end up in Elyria?"
"If you use a teleportation scroll prepared by someone incompetent," I said dryly, "that is bound to happen."
"As expected of Miss Cecilia," Vivian said, stepping forward with a smile that rubbed me the wrong way.
I shot her a glare, but instead of stopping, she continued spouting utter nonsense as if she hadn't noticed.
"Leader," I cut in coolly, "Vernisul isn't far from here. A month on foot, or two to three weeks by carriage." I shrugged. "Either works for me."
"If we're walking all the way," I added, "we'll need to be thoroughly prepared. I suggest we gather the necessary supplies here before continuing our journey."
"That's actually a good idea," Cerise and Yeshe said at the same time.
Renoir fell silent, clearly thinking it over. After a few moments, he nodded and began assigning tasks to everyone who would handle provisions, who would check weapons, and who would look into maps and information.
I barely listened.
Unlike them, I didn't need to buy much of anything. My subspace was already stocked with more supplies than we'd realistically need. For the sake of appearances, I'd simply take things out later and place them into the item bag I'd bought.
Once they dispersed, I glanced down at Lux. "Shall we tour the city for a bit?"
"Yes, please," he replied instantly, eyes lighting up. "Can we also get something sweet? I love those dark pieces you give me."
I chuckled and tapped his nose. "Of course. Anything you want."
"Don't forget to buy a winter coat," Nox added from within the pendant.
I sighed. "I know."
Elyria stretched out before us loud, colourful, and alive with danger and opportunity in equal measure. If we were stuck here, even briefly, I might as well make use of it.
And maybe… enjoy it a little.