Cold was the first thing to return.
Not like a blow, but like a patient presence, settling over my skin with the familiarity of an old enemy. I inhaled slowly, and the air filled my lungs without burning. That alone was strange.
I opened my eyes.
The wooden ceiling of the room greeted me in silence. The faint creaking of the cabin mixed with the distant murmur of wind striking the snow, like a discreet welcome.
"Hmph…" I exhaled, only then realizing I had been holding my breath.
I turned my head, searching for Lyaris, but found only the impression of her body left on the empty mattress.
Leaning toward the window, I saw the sun hanging low in the sky, slightly tilted toward the southeast. I calculated the time without thinking too hard.
Around nine.
"Well… I used to wake up at four-thirty," I muttered, "but I'll let it slide today."
I headed to the kitchen. No one seemed to be around, so I took an apple from the basket without much guilt.
Where did they go…?
As I devoured the fruit whole, the question lingered in my mind. It didn't take long to get an answer.
The whistle of air was my only warning.
An axe came flying toward me at full speed.
Without thinking, I grabbed another apple and hurled it straight at the handle. The impact knocked the weapon off course, forcing it into a clean, predictable spin.
I analyzed the rotation.
Extended my hand.
Caught it just in time, without cutting myself.
The weight of the weapon settled into my palm as if it had always known where to land.
"Good morning, Tetsuo," Oswin greeted cheerfully, completely ignoring his questionable habit of throwing axes at people's heads.
Please don't let this become a habit, I silently begged.
"I see it didn't leave any lasting damage. That's good," he added, scratching his beard with apparent nonchalance.
Then he clapped his hands lightly and began walking outside.
"If you have time to loaf around, you have time to train," he scolded with sharp sarcasm.
Does he know everything?
"You're lucky, Tetsuo," he continued, now with a tone that carried unexpected respect. "Lyaris wouldn't let just anyone into her room."
Suddenly, he brought a hand to his chin, as if pondering an impossible riddle.
"Well…" he began, using a tone I had never heard from him before. "She has a stuffed cat named Mister Whiskers—but don't mention it, or she'll freeze us both."
He made a sharp gesture across his neck, serious enough to make me doubt it was a joke.
"Alright, training time!" he exclaimed joyfully, walking toward the garden and patting my shoulder as if that alone could give me courage.
"I feel like this will be tougher than I expected…" I sighed, resigned, spinning the axe between my fingers.
In the courtyard, Oswin bent down and opened a small black box covered in strange symbols. From inside, he pulled out several fragments of paper, each inscribed with arcane words. Among them, I recognized one that had become familiar: ice, translated in this language as glacies.
He held one of the glyphs for a moment too long. The symbols began to glow with a soft, pulsing golden light before he placed it on the ground and stepped back three paces.
"These are disposable glyphs," Oswin explained solemnly, raising one arm. "Scrolls that activate once when they come into contact with energy… and then disintegrate."
He looked at me.
"This one is ice magic. Lyaris must have explained some of it already," he added, clenching his fist. "She channels spirit energy. This, on the other hand, comes from the body. Watch carefully."
The paper crystallized, becoming rigid and fragile before shattering into shining particles.
Then the ground answered.
Spikes of ice erupted violently from the earth, growing at an absurd speed, each one larger than the last as they rushed toward me—like spears raised by the will of the world itself.
I leapt backward a second too late. The movement was precise: a lock of my hair fell to the ground, cleanly severed by the frozen edge.
It wasn't just instinct that saved me.
It was surprise… and reckless curiosity.
Because even in danger, part of me wanted to closely observe one of those ice spikes.
"That was a mistake," Oswin said sternly. "You don't approach danger just because it fascinates you. Even beautiful light can burn."
"I let myself slip," I admitted quietly, retaking my stance.
"It won't happen again," I lied, my eyes still fixed on the molecular structure of the ice that had almost decapitated me.
"Lack of discipline, 03," Julian's voice echoed at the back of my mind, cold and sharp. "You stopped to admire the aesthetics of a low-tier ranged attack. Had that been a structural breaking point, you'd be a frozen meat sculpture."
"Leave him alone, Julian," Silas cut in, and I could taste lemon candy on my tongue. "Tetsu is just looking for something that isn't white and sterile like us. The problem is… what's coming next isn't warm."
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
My breathing faltered for a second.
No…
This shouldn't be happening.
"…No," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Not now."
Before, it was different.
Before, it only happened when I slept.
I swallowed.
"You two…" I thought firmly. "Since when do you talk while I'm awake?"
Silence.
That was worse.
"Great," I continued mentally. "Voices in my head, no instruction manual."
The ice in front of me creaked softly.
"And to top it off, they have opinions."
"Unnecessary observation," Julian replied instantly."Our presence is a logical consequence of the degradation of your cognitive barrier."
"In other words," Silas added lightly, almost amused,"your head's a mess, Tetsu. Welcome to the living room."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Breathe.Count.Focus.
"Listen," I said internally, forcing calm. "I don't know who you are. I don't know why you're here. And I don't have time for existential therapy in the middle of lethal weapon training."
Pause.
"So, for everyone's sake…"
I opened my eyes.
"Shut up. At least until ice stops falling on me."
"Request acknowledged," Julian replied.
"Can't promise anything," Silas added, clearly entertained.
I exhaled through my nose.
Fantastic.
I'm losing my mind.
And it's not even close to the worst thing that happened today.
The training didn't stop because of an order from Oswin, but because of a sudden change in air pressure. The forest, which moments ago had been crackling under the ice glyphs, fell into a deathly silence. Birds went quiet. The wind stopped abruptly, as if the entire world had decided to hold its breath.
Oswin tensed. I watched his hand slowly—and lethally—move toward the handle of the heavy axe at his belt. His eyes were no longer those of a joking old instructor; they were those of a hunter who senses danger before seeing it.
"Oswin…" Lyaris reappeared at the cabin's doorway. Her face was paler than the snow, her fingers gripping the green ribbon in her hair so tightly her knuckles turned white. "She's already here."
In the distance, the rhythmic clink of armor and the coordinated gallop of horses shattered the calm. This wasn't the disorder of mercenaries; it was a choreographed march—perfect, efficient, a machine of war.
A unit of knights wearing midnight-blue cloaks emerged from between the trees, forming a corridor of steel that seemed to wound the forest itself.
And then I saw her.
Mounted atop a silver-maned steed, a young woman with jet-black hair advanced with such elegance that the forest looked filthy by comparison. Her unbearable glacial-blue eyes swept across the courtyard, ignoring Oswin and Lyaris, until they locked onto me with the precision of a scanner.
"So this is the famous 'guest,'" the woman said. Her voice wasn't loud—it was a cold whisper that cut the air like a scalpel. "An object that casts no shadow in my records."
At her side, a young knight in armor so polished Julian would have approved dramatically drew his sword. It was Percy. His gaze toward me dripped with immediate contempt—a mix of royal duty and irrational jealousy.
"Kneel before Princess Elara of Eryndor!" Percy roared, though his eyes flicked nervously toward the woman beside him, seeking approval like a child.
I didn't move.
By S.E.C. instinct, my hand went to the axe at my belt. Invisible sensors at the back of my neck began to vibrate.
"Tetsu…" Silas's voice returned, heavier this time. "Don't trust her. She's the light that blinds, not the one that illuminates."
"Ignore Silas's sentimentality," Julian interjected, his voice colder than ever. "That posture, that gaze… 03, she's not normal. She's a hierarchy. Analyze her breaking point. Do not kneel. We were never designed to bow."
I stood firm on the snow, holding the Princess's gaze as the vapor of my breath collided with the frozen air.
In that tense silence, I understood that the winter Silas warned me about wasn't the weather.
It stood before me—dressed in midnight blue and silver.