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Thalia hesitantly raised her hand again, palm up as before.This time, she focused not on gathering magic but on feeling the cold that already surrounded her, the natural energy of this harsh place.The moisture came more easily now, gathering above her palm in a small, swirling cloud.

Instead of pushing, she imagined drawing heat away slowly, like pulling a thread from fabric.The cloud began to crystallize at its edges, frost patterns forming and spreading inward.Her heart quickened, but she forced herself to maintain the steady pace, remembering the disaster of her previous attempt.

The ice refused to form a perfect shard, instead coalescing into a lumpy, misshapen mass that hovered unsteadily above her palm.It was crude, barely recognizable as intentional magic, but it was solid ice.

"See?"Roran grinned."Progress."

The rest of the lesson passed in concentrated effort.Thalia didn't attempt another shard, instead practicing the basic steps of moisture gathering and controlled freezing over and over, building confidence in tiny increments.By the time Varik called an end to the session, her hands ached within the gloves and her forehead was damp with sweat despite the cold.

As they filed back toward the archway at the chamber’s entrance, Brynn shouldered roughly past Thalia, clutching a perfect ice shard in her gloved hand like a trophy.

"Pathetic," she muttered, loud enough for those nearby to hear."Just like every other slum dweller who ends up here.You're going to make the Southern Kingdoms look even worse than they already do."

Thalia stiffened, a retort rising to her lips, but Roran's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Not worth it," he murmured."Save your energy for the magic, not the politics."

Thalia swallowed the sharp reply that burned on her tongue.Brynn wanted a reaction — wanted proof that her words had landed like a blade between Thalia’s ribs.Instead, Thalia forced her shoulders to relax, her breath steady.

Roran gave her arm a quick squeeze before letting go."Come on," he said, nodding toward the exit.“I heard a rumor we’ve got metallurgy next – and that it’s warm down in the forges.”

Thalia let herself be guided away, but Brynn’s words clung to her like frostbite, seeping into the cracks of her resolve.She already knew she was behind — her struggle with ice magic had made that painfully clear — but hearing it spoken aloud, so casually dismissed, was a different kind of wound.

CHAPTER SIX

Thalia followed the steep, winding staircase deeper into the earth, each step taking her further from the bitter cold of Frostforge's upper levels.The air grew steadily warmer, carrying hints of coal smoke and hot metal that intensified with every turn of the spiral.Her fingertips brushed against the rough-hewn wall for balance, the stone transitioning from ice-slick to dry to faintly warm beneath her touch.By the time she reached the bottom, perspiration had begun to bead along her hairline, a foreign sensation after days of relentless cold.This was the true heart of Frostforge — the place that had given the academy its name.

She paused at the threshold, momentarily overwhelmed.The forge sprawled before her, a vast cavern carved directly into the bedrock beneath the academy.Dozens of furnaces blazed along the perimeter, their fires casting dancing shadows across the walls and filling the space with oppressive heat.The ceiling soared high above, disappearing into darkness save for occasional glints where metal fixtures caught the light.Between the furnaces stood row upon row of stone workbenches, each bearing anvils, hammers, and assorted tools she couldn't begin to name.

The noise struck her next.Metal rang against metal in irregular percussion as hammers fell on anvils.Bellows wheezed and sighed, coaxing flames higher.Instructions were shouted over the din, barely audible.And beneath it all ran a continuous, almost subliminal hum that Thalia felt more than heard, vibrating through the stone floor and into her bones.

"First-years, gather here!"A woman's voice cut through the chaos, authoritative and sharp.

Thalia spotted the other new students clustered near the entrance and hurried to join them, conscious of her lateness.She squeezed between Luna and a boy she didn't recognize, offering an apologetic smile to the instructor who stood before them with arms crossed.

"I am Instructor Wolfe," the woman announced, her voice carrying without apparent effort.She was tall, with sinewy arms exposed by her sleeveless leather apron.Her hair was pulled back in a severe knot, revealing a face lined by years of heat and concentration.Burns marked her forearms like badges of honor."Welcome to the Howling Forge.Some of you will flourish here; most will not.That is the nature of metallurgy."

Thalia shifted uncomfortably, remembering her disastrous performance in cryomancy.Another discipline in which to fail spectacularly.

"Contrary to what you might believe," Instructor Wolfe continued, "smithing is not merely pounding hot metal into submission.There is magic in this work — ancient magic that predates even that of the Isle Wardens."

She moved to a nearby workbench where a small ingot glowed orange in a bed of coals.With practiced ease, she lifted it with tongs and set it on an anvil.

"Watch carefully," she instructed, taking up a hammer."The metal speaks to those who listen.It tells you where it wishes to bend, how it yearns to be shaped."

As Wolfe's hammer struck the ingot, Thalia noticed a subtle shift in the air — a ripple of energy that reminded her of working with particularly potent healing herbs in her mother's shop.The instructor's movements became fluid, almost musical, as the metal stretched and curved under her guidance.

"Metal remembers," Wolfe explained between strikes."It holds the essence of the earth from which it came.The ores beneath Frostforge are particularly potent — infused with the same magic that powers our cryomancy and other disciplines of elemental power."

Within minutes, she had transformed the formless ingot into the shape of a blade, with a sharp edge that seemed impossible for the crude tools she'd used.

"Today, you will become acquainted with the most basic element of our craft: iron."She gestured to waiting assistants, who began distributing tongs and other tools."Your task is simple: shape a hook.Nothing elaborate, nothing fancy.Just a functional hook that could hang a coat or a pot."Her eyes swept over them."The purpose is not the product but the process.Feel the metal.Listen to it.Begin to understand its nature."

The students dispersed to assigned workbenches.Thalia found herself at a station near the back wall, where the heat was most intense.Sweat now ran freely down her back, a welcome respite from the cold.She took up the unfamiliar tongs, surprised by their weight, and waited nervously.

An older student approached with a metal rod clamped in heavy tongs, its end glowing a vivid orange-red."Hold your tongs ready," he instructed tersely.

Thalia obeyed, and he transferred a small strip of the heated iron to her tool.She nearly dropped it, startled by the immediacy of the heat that radiated through the metal handles into her palms.