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Determination hardened in Thalia's chest.Focusing intently, she reached out with her senses again, this time imagining the moisture as tiny motes floating in the air.She began to draw them toward her palm, the frost gloves humming with energy against her skin.

The moisture gathered, a small cloud condensing above her hand.Excitement fluttered in her stomach; it was working.Now came the second step: extracting heat.Thalia frowned, unsure how exactly to accomplish this.She thought of the biting cold around her, trying to channel that sensation into the gathered moisture.

Nothing happened.The tiny cloud hovered, refusing to solidify.Frustration built inside her, along with the acute awareness of time passing, of Varik's potential disappointment, of failing where others succeeded.She pushed harder, willing the magic to obey, forcing her energy through the gloves and into the suspended water droplets.

Too much.She realized her mistake an instant too late.The magic surged, wild and uncontrolled.The moisture froze instantly, but instead of forming a single shard, it crystallized in a chaotic, splintered mass.Before she could react, the unstable formation shattered outward, sending dozens of jagged ice fragments flying in all directions.

A cry of pain cut through the wind's howl.The white-blonde Northern boy beside her staggered backward, hand pressed to his cheek where blood welled between his fingers.

"You stupid Southern imbecile!"he snarled, lowering his hand to reveal a deep gash along his cheekbone.Blood streamed freely down his face, dripping from his jaw."You could have taken my eye!"

The platform fell silent as all practice halted; everyone turned to stare.Thalia stood frozen in horror, the frost gloves suddenly heavy on her trembling hands.

Varik materialized beside them, his movement so swift Thalia hadn't seen him cross the distance.He examined the boy's wound with clinical detachment.

"Infirmary," he said curtly."It will need stitching."

The injured student shot Thalia a venomous glare before stalking toward the archway leading back into the mountain, one hand still pressed to his bleeding face.

Varik turned to Thalia, his pale eyes chips of ice."This," he addressed the entire class, though his gaze never left her face, "is precisely the lack of control I warned you about.Magic is not emotion — it is discipline.It is mathematics and physics given form.Your ignorance nearly cost a fellow student his eye, and could have cost him his life had the shard struck elsewhere."

Shame burned through Thalia, hotter than any fire."I didn't mean —"

"Intent is irrelevant," Varik cut her off."Results are what matter at Frostforge.The elements do not care about your intentions, only your mastery."He turned away, effectively dismissing her."Continue practicing.With greater care."

Thalia remained motionless, acutely aware of the whispers around her, the sidelong glances, the Northern students edging subtly away as if her failure might be contagious.Her gloved hands hung uselessly at her sides, the earlier tingling sensation now feeling like an accusation.

"Mind if I join you?"Roran's voice broke through her spiral of shame.He stood beside her, curly black hair escaping its tie to frame his face, his smile easy despite the tension hanging in the air.

"Why would you want to?"Thalia asked, her voice barely audible.

Roran shrugged, positioning himself where the injured student had stood."Kellen has needed someone to deflate his ego since we arrived.Though perhaps not quite so literally."A hint of humor crept into his voice.

Despite everything, Thalia felt the corner of her mouth twitch upward."I don't know what happened.The magic just...twisted."

"It does that," Roran said, extending his hand palm-up.Above it hovered a small but perfectly formed ice shard."Especially when you're trying too hard."

Thalia stared at his creation with poorly concealed envy."You're Southern.How are you doing that already?"

The question came out more accusatory than she'd intended, but Roran seemed unfazed.With a flick of his wrist, he dissolved his ice shard back into the air.

"My father was a merchant," he explained, his voice dropping slightly."We traveled the coast, sometimes as far north as the trading outposts in Reaches Edge.I used to sneak out to watch the Northern mages work while he negotiated prices."A shadow crossed his face, brief but unmistakable."Before the raids took everything."

“Isle Wardens?”

He nodded, his jaw tight.

"I'm sorry," she said simply.She’d never witnessed an Isle Warden raid, but her mother was old enough to remember the last time the marauders had struck Verdant Port; Celeste had always spoken of them in hushed, fearful tones.

Roran shook off the memory visibly, his smile returning."Ancient history.Why are you here?Same reason as most of us Southerners?Couldn't afford the bribe?"

Thalia nodded, oddly comforted by his directness."My mother could barely scrape together enough for one bribe.I have a younger sister."She twisted her gloved fingers together, the runes catching the light."I volunteered so she wouldn't have to when her time comes."

Roran studied her with newfound respect."That’s quite noble," he said, no trace of mockery in his tone."Most people come to Frostforge running from something.Not many come running toward something worse to protect others."

His words warmed something inside her, a small flame kindled against the pervasive cold.For the first time since arriving, Thalia felt seen — not as a Southern outsider, not as a charity case, but as someone who had made a difficult choice for the right reasons.

"Try again," Roran suggested, nodding toward her hands."But this time, don't force it.The cold is already here — you just need to guide it, not create it."