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Damaged gloves wouldn't just make cryomancy more difficult — they could be dangerous.Without proper protection, ice magic could backfire, freezing the caster's own flesh.In extreme cases, it could cause permanent nerve damage or worse.Someone had set a trap, knowing that Thalia would put on these gloves and attempt to cast.

Her gaze swept the dormitory, suddenly seeing the familiar space through a lens of suspicion.Who had access to their room?Luna and Ashe, of course.But the dormitory doors at Frostforge weren't locked during daylight hours; any student could have slipped in while classes were in session.She tried to recall if she'd mentioned her struggles with cryomancy publicly.Had she made herself a target by revealing weakness?

The clock's hands moved inexorably toward the half-hour mark.In ten minutes, Varik would call the roll.Missing class could result in punishment, and punishment could be deadly.

But using these gloves would be more than just risky — it would be foolish.

Thalia gently placed the damaged gloves back on the table, her mind racing through options.She could report the sabotage to her instructors, but without proof of who had done it, what would that accomplish?It might even make her appear weak, unable to handle the cutthroat competition of Frostforge.Or worse, they might think she'd damaged the gloves herself as an excuse for her poor performance.Varik had warned them specifically to keep their gloves in good condition.

Or she could attempt to repair the gloves enough to get through today's lesson, then find a more permanent solution.

Thalia reached for her satchel, fingers fumbling past her textbooks to the small leather pouch tucked in the bottom.The familiar weight of her herbal kit provided a moment of comfort — a connection to her mother's shop, to the life she'd left behind in Verdant Port.She withdrew a needle and thread intended for binding medicinal sachets, along with a small vial of resin she used for sealing plant specimens.

Seven minutes remained before class.

With trembling fingers, Thalia began emergency repairs on the gloves.She couldn't fix everything.The runic damage in particular was beyond her skill, but she might be able to reinforce the structural elements enough to prevent immediate injury.The needle flashed in the dim light as she worked, securing loose threads and reinforcing weakened seams.The resin, sticky and aromatic, sealed the punctures in the left glove, though she knew the fix was temporary at best.

As she worked, Thalia's mind returned to the question that burned like ice in her veins: Who had done this?

She remembered Levi's suspicious glances at Roran during their river journey.She thought of Brynn's open hostility toward the poorer Southern students.She recalled the warning from Senna about Kaine — a murderer, if the rumor was to be believed.

The list of potential enemies seemed to grow with each passing day at Frostforge.She had come here thinking her greatest challenge would be surviving the rigorous training, mastering magical disciplines that were foreign to her.Now, she realized that the other students might pose a more immediate threat.

Thalia secured the final stitch as the clock's hand touched the twenty-five-minute mark.Five minutes to reach the Cryomancy chamber on the academy's eastern wing.She pulled on the repaired gloves, feeling the rough patches where her hasty mending had altered the once-perfect fit.They would have to do.

She slung her satchel over her shoulder, wincing as the weight pressed against muscles already strained to their limit.The revelation of sabotage had momentarily overshadowed her physical exhaustion, but as she hurried from the dormitory, each step sent fresh pain through her overworked body.

Thalia paused at the doorway, glancing back at the room that should have been a sanctuary.The afternoon sunlight caught motes of dust hanging in the air, turning them to floating embers that danced in the draft from the open door.

Someone had entered this space — her space — with the intention of causing her harm.

CHAPTER NINE

Thalia woke to a familiar enemy, the cold.It slid beneath her pelt blanket with icy fingers, probing her skin like a curious child discovering a new toy.Her breath billowed before her face in thick white clouds, each exhalation a reminder that winter had truly arrived at Frostforge.She curled tighter, drawing her knees to her chest, but the chill had already seeped into her bones, making her joints ache and her teeth chatter.Outside the narrow window, snow piled against the glass like a silent warning.This was only the beginning.

With stiff movements, Thalia forced herself to sit up.She glanced over at Luna, who seemed to still be asleep, buried beneath a mountain of furs.Thalia moved to rise, to rouse her roommate; the moment her feet touched the cold ground, she gasped, a shudder running through her body.

"Southern blood truly is thinner," came Ashe's voice from across the room.The Northern girl was already dressed, her movements fluid and unbothered by the temperature that left Thalia rigid.

"I'm fine," Thalia replied, the lie betrayed by the violent trembling of her hands.Her fingers felt like wooden pegs, refusing to bend properly as she reached for her boots.

"You don't look fine.You look like you might shatter if someone taps you."

Thalia forced a smile that felt more like a grimace."In Verdant Port, winter means wearing a shawl in the evenings and lighting a small fire for tea."She closed her eyes, summoning the memory of her mother's herb shop, where winter brought sailors seeking remedies for chapped skin and minor frostbite from northern voyages.The worst cold she'd ever experienced had been a brief sea squall that blew through the port, sending temperatures plummeting for two days.Two days — not months.

"You can't compare this to anything you've known before," Ashe said, surprisingly gentle as she approached Thalia's bed."The Northern Reaches don't just have winter — they are winter."

Thalia nodded, her teeth still chattering.She'd spent her nights dreaming of Verdant Port's salt-tinged breezes and sun-warmed stones.Each morning brought fresh disappointment as she opened her eyes to Frostforge's merciless grip.

"You’re wasting energy.”

"Wasting energy?"Thalia asked, unable to suppress the tremor in her voice.

"Fighting the cold."Ashe stood, demonstrating with her own body."Watch how I move.Slow, deliberate.Each motion with purpose."She walked across the room, her steps measured."Southerners rush around, thinking movement creates warmth.It does — temporarily.But it also depletes your strength faster, leaving you vulnerable when your body can't sustain the effort."

Thalia observed Ashe's careful movements, noting how her roommate seemed to glide rather than hurry, conserving energy with each step."I never thought of it that way."

"Of course not.You've never needed to."Ashe returned, extending her hand."I'll show you."