The carriage rolled lazily down the dirt road, the creak of its wheels blending with the distant song of birds. Selene rested her elbow on the window frame, letting the breeze play with the loose strands of her ponytail. The late morning sun warmed her face as the scenery unfolded at a slow, steady pace.
Up front, the driver held the reins firmly, keeping a relaxed rhythm that made it easy to take in the view.
Darius Voss sat beside her, leaning back in the seat with the calm air of someone who had made this journey countless times. Beneath a heavy cloak and a hood that cast deep shadows over his features, his face was partly hidden. To those who didn’t know him, he was just another investigator sent by the kingdom — nothing in his posture or appearance hinted at the weight his name carried.
When the road opened up to reveal a clear, glistening lake, Selene leaned forward to see better. Sunlight danced across the water’s surface, scattering in hypnotic patterns. Near the shore, a young man sat on a fallen log, fishing rod in hand. His posture was relaxed, his gaze calm. Even from a distance, he stood out — hair and eyes white as snow, contrasting against warm, lightly tanned skin, and a firm, athletic build.
“Not every day you see someone like that fishing out here…” Selene remarked with a faint smile.
“We must be close to the city,” Darius replied, his tone even. Yet his eyes lingered on the young man for just a moment longer, storing the detail away for later.
The carriage moved on, leaving the lake — and the fisherman — behind.
The city gates came into view, modestly fortified with two short towers. Guards approached as soon as the carriage stopped.
“Are you the ones sent here?” one of them asked. “The captain wants you taken straight to him.”
None of the guards seemed to recognize Darius, and Selene kept to herself the fact that this was exactly how her master wanted it.
Without delay, they were led by the captain up a hill, where the ruling family’s manor stood… or rather, what was left of it.
The air changed the moment they stepped inside.
The scene was pure chaos — doors smashed in, walls carved open as if they were soft clay, furniture reduced to splinters and scattered across the floor. And ice. So much ice. It coated the ground, crawled up the walls, clung to pillars, and hung from the ceiling in jagged crystalline spears. Some of the guards’ bodies lay trapped inside clear, solid blocks, their faces frozen in terror. It was as if winter had violently claimed this place for itself.
Selene steadied her breath, pushing back the discomfort. Ice magic wasn’t rare in the continent; any mage could learn it. But Darius knew the difference. The density, the stability, the way the cold clung to the air… this wasn’t the work of an ordinary spellcaster. It was refined magic, high-level — the kind only a few in the world could produce.
He kept that observation to himself.
Hours passed as they interviewed witnesses, collected reports, and took notes. But every answer was vague, every gaze evasive. There were no direct accusations — only fear. A silent kind of fear that seemed to stick to the skin.
By the time they left the manor, the sun had begun to sink in the sky.
“Let’s take a walk through the market,” Darius suggested, as if trying to replace the heavy air with something livelier.
The main street was alive with voices, smells, and colors, a chaotic but familiar blend. Selene scanned the stalls selling fruit, cloth, and simple enchanted tools, but her eyes caught on something that stood out at the far end of the street.
A makeshift stall, built from crooked planks nailed together, with a wobbly counter barely holding its weight. At its center sat a massive block of ice, five perfect fish frozen inside. A hand-painted sign read: 1 copper per fish.
Behind the counter stood the fisherman from the lake. Same relaxed posture, same calm gaze. People hurried past him, avoiding eye contact, as if his very presence was unsettling.
“Who is that?” Selene asked a passerby.
“Stay away. Dangerous.” The man kept walking without another word.
Selene frowned and moved forward without hesitation. Darius followed silently.
The young man noticed them approaching and broke into a wide smile, raising a hand like an eager merchant.
“Welcome, welcome, dear customers! Don’t be shy, come closer. Fresh fish caught this very morning! And for just one copper coin, you can take home a fine, big, fresh one!”
Selene arched a brow.
“And how exactly am I supposed to take a fish… frozen inside that?”
He rested his chin on his hand, pretending to think deeply, then slapped the counter with sudden enthusiasm.
“Oh-ho! I see I have a customer who likes to haggle. Very well — I’ll make you a special offer: all five fish… for just five copper coins!”
“That’s your special offer?” Selene shot him a look. “You’re kidding me.”
He placed a hand dramatically over his chest.
“Tough customer, huh? But… that’s my final offer.”
That’s when Darius stepped forward, his voice calm.
“Tell me, young man… were you the one who froze these fish?”
The market went silent. Conversations died. Heads turned, eyes heavy with unspoken meaning. Selene glanced around, confused.
“What? Do you people have something to say?” she asked, thinking the stares were aimed at her and Darius.
It didn’t take long for her to realize the looks were all for him.
The young man’s expression turned briefly serious.
“I know why they’re looking at me like that…”
Darius narrowed his eyes, waiting.
“…They want a discount.”
The heavy air shattered instantly. He smiled again.
“But sorry — my final offer is still five fish for five coppers.”
Darius exhaled in quiet amusement and placed the coins on the counter.
“Very well… it’s a good deal.”
“Thank you kindly, sir! I’m sure you’ll enjoy them!” the boy said brightly.
Darius picked up the entire block with his bare hands and walked away as if the cold meant nothing to him.
“What’s your name?” Selene asked.
“Eliot.”
That night, at the inn, the block of ice sat untouched on the table. Selene was reading a borrowed book while Darius studied the frozen mass.
“Why are you staring at it like that?” she asked. “Dinner’s over… thinking about making it for breakfast?”
“It hasn’t melted,” he replied without looking away. “Not even a millimeter since we bought it.”
Selene ran her hand across its icy surface.
“So, what’s the trick?”
Darius’ eyes stayed serious.
“The only trick… is that it was made by someone very talented.”
Outside, a bell rang three times. Footsteps hurried past the street. Selene looked up, but Darius kept his gaze on the ice.
“Tomorrow we start early. Tonight, we remember two things: the name… and the ice.”
Selene murmured under her breath:
“Eliot.”