Night blew with icy winds, cutting through the inner fields of the Valemortis estate like thin blades of silver. Under the cloudy sky and the filtered moonlight, a small silhouette trembled amid the vastness of the training yard. There, wrapped in her thick fabric cloak and fitted workout clothes, Elyandra Valemortis kept her eyes closed, trying, with the little warmth she had left, to control the flow of mana inside her body.
She trembled. He trembled a lot.
"This is no longer magical training. This is torture sanctioned by the imperial army."
With each gust of wind, his nose seemed to threaten to fall and his fingers hardened like stones. But Elyandra resisted—or at least tried.
In front of her, like an impassive and firm statue, Dalia Vernhardt, her tutor, watched her with her arms crossed.
"Control requires resilience, concentration and adaptation. The real world won't give you time to warm up before attacking. Go on, Valemortis. Mana does not flow to the faint of spirit.
Elyandra forced a sigh.
"If mana doesn't flow to the weak, then mine must be frozen in my spleen right now..."
She focused again. Four months of training had shaped his dominance over his mana. It was no longer a flickering flame inside her—now, it felt like a manageable, if unstable, river. She knew where the energy was. He knew how to play it. But under that cold, even the certainties of his own body were scrambled.
The gentle footsteps on the stone floor announced a known presence. Siris approached, covered in her typical light wool cloak, carrying in her hands a cup adorned with delicate floral designs.
"I brought hot chocolate, Miss Elyandra." I thought a little warmth could help your focus," he said, with a warm smile, which seemed to contradict the temperature around him.
Elyandra widened her eyes, clearly shaken by the temptation.
"It's so cold I can't even think..." let alone meditate on mana flow...
Dalia arched an eyebrow sternly.
"The cold is part of the training. Learn to manipulate your flow even when your body is in shock. If you can keep your mana stable under this climate, you'll be able to do so in any situation.
"Great. Next step: meditate inside a volcano to balance the contrast."
The mana circulated inside him again — slower than usual, but steady. The progress was real. Elyandra knew this. Their control had evolved. Now, he felt the flow even at his fingertips. It could even... Modeling the pressure around the heart.
But even that didn't stop her from shaking like a leaf.
She looked from the corner at Siris, who was still holding the chocolate with that bright little smile.
"I swear if she calls me 'cute' while I'm almost freezing to death, I'll freeze that drink myself and throw it on her."
Elyandra's trembling only got worse. His body seemed to behave like that of a puppy fresh out of the bath, shaking slightly uncontrollably. The wind howled through the cracks in the walls and cut through his training clothes as if they were nothing more than thin kitchen towels.
"Because I'm dressed like it's summer... in the coldest month of the year?"
She opened her eyes for a moment and cast a discreet — almost accusatory — glance at the two figures who accompanied her. Dalia, standing like a wall of determination, was wrapped in a heavy gray coat, with reinforced inner lining and knee-high boots. Beside her, Siris gently rocked the cup of hot chocolate in her hands, her arms covered in long sleeves of quilted wool and a dark blanket tucked over her shoulders, giving her the air of a refined winter caregiver.
"Why am I the only one looking like an aspiring parade soldier while these two dress like they're going camping in the snow?"
She felt like crying. To revolt. From... to at least wear two socks.
But instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.
Sister was everything. She couldn't distract herself. Every second of connection was worth gold in his preparation for the magic academy. The tutor had already said in no uncertain terms: the test would be in one year. And until then, Elyandra needed to be more than good. She needed to be the best.
Even if his teeth chattered like the bells of a cathedral.
Even if his knees faltered with each gust.
Even if the tip of the nose had already lost all tactile sensation and was, in practice, in a coma.
She was still Elyandra Valemortis.
"Just a few more minutes. After that... maybe I can use chocolate as a cooler bag..."
With her body trembling and her pride intact, Elyandra regained control of her mana, guiding the flow through the center of her body to her arms. It was difficult, but she would not back down. The cold was just another obstacle to be overcome—like all the others he would face on the way to the throne of the world.
Dalia watched in silence. His hands were clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on that small silhouette trembling in the center of the stone courtyard. The cold bit
"She continues."
Even now, her hair standing on end from the biting breeze and her lips trembling discreetly, Elyandra didn't let go. Sitting cross-legged and her hands resting on her knees, she channeled her mana with concentration worthy of someone who, by right, could simply not care.
"No child of her age should be able to handle mana in such conditions."
"None... except her."
Dalia narrowed her eyes, analyzing every movement of the flow around the girl. The tiny particles of energy oscillated more consistently. The grip on the internal circuit was strengthening —there was no doubt.
"It's evolving too fast."
But it was not only the speed of progress that amazed him. It was the choice.
"The Empire's Magic Academy..."
His countenance remained motionless, but his thoughts flowed with intensity.
"A saint. A Valemortis heiress. A child with almost one hundred percent old blood... And she wants to enter that bureaucratic institution of ambitious young men and spoiled aristocratic wizards?"
"She could spend her life being worshipped as a divine symbol. Or manipulating the gears of the Empire with its political heritage. I could grow up without ever having to set foot on a training ground."
And yet, Elyandra chose the difficult path.
"Or perhaps the most dangerous..."
"The Academy is not a place where the weak survive for long."
Dalia kept her breathing controlled, but her eyes were fixed on the girl in front of her with something bordering on admiration. No. I was already crossing that line.
"She wants to build something with her own hands."
For a brief moment, the owner's heart tightened.
"If she continues like this..."
A few meters away, Siris was blowing the steam of the hot chocolate in silence, with a look that shone as if he saw an animal lost in the snow.
"She's freezing..."
Despite the freezing weather and intense concentration, Elyandra looked like an ice cube shivering in silence, her cheeks rosy with cold and her nose almost blue.
"Oh, if I could... just a hug..."
The cup in his hands trembled discreetly—not from the cold, but from restraint. Every fiber of her being wanted to take that brave little girl in her arms, wrap her in a blanket and tell her that everything was fine.
"Why are you so, so determined, so stubborn, so... absurdly cute?"
She bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes for a moment, smiling with restrained tenderness.
"Just a little more, little ice cube... Then I'll melt you with chocolate, covers and cuddle."
Far away, where the cold reigned supreme, Elyandra no longer felt anything.
His fingers, once trembling, were now numb, his legs had become boards of ice unable to sustain any sensation. Every inch of his skin had surrendered to the merciless cold of dawn. And yet... She didn't fall.
He trembled like a broken toy, one of those wind-up toys, which he only knew how to shake in a comical and desperate way.
But then... The world seemed to stop.
His breathing ceased for an instant. His mind fell silent.
And the cold disappeared.
Elyandra's eyes slowly opened, revealing a glow that had never been there before.
His face was empty of expression, but serene as a lake mirrored in the moonlight.
Within herself, her mana flow was a spectacle.
A clear and limpid river, where every particle danced in harmony, soft as silk and firm as a stream. The energy floated peacefully, without resistance, without tension—as if, finally, body and soul had synchronized.
Elyandra felt no pain. He didn't feel cold. Only... peace.
A peace so deep that it was almost divine, warm, enveloping — as if the arms of the world itself were cradling it.
And then, the feeling became real.
A sudden heat covered her.
She blinked slowly, her senses returning softly, as if awakening from an enchanted dream. It was at that moment that he saw:
Siris, in front of her, wrapped her carefully in a thick, fluffy blanket, while still balancing the cup of hot chocolate with his other hand, her gaze completely teary with relief.
And beside her, firm and resolute as ever, Dalia Vernhardt held her in his lap with an unexpectedly gentle force.
" You were amazing. Dalia said in a low voice, a whisper drowned out by emotion. " You've come so far that even I couldn't have imagined.
Elyandra's heart, though slowed by exhaustion, warmed up completely.
She smiled. A small, almost childish smile, but genuinely happy.
Her little arms came out from under the blanket to cling tightly to the owner, seeking her warmth as if it were home.
The woman said nothing more—but her countenance softened as never before.
On the other side, Siris couldn't contain the sparkle in his eyes. A huge, emotional smile took over his face.
" Ugh... Why am I not the one to take you in my arms...? He grumbled softly, puffing his cheeks slightly like a sulky child. " That's not fair... She looks so cute, all wrapped up... I want to hug her too!
And even wrapped in blankets, on her owner's lap and still without feeling her toes, Elyandra murmured in a low voice, half asleep:
— ... I want more blankets...
The trio walked back to the house, cutting through the cold dawn wind like a strange but perfectly united family.