FROST
Chapter 34: A Sister’s Shadow

Chapter 34: A Sister’s Shadow

"Amethyst! How are you feeling?"

Elise Blacksmith, one of the promising wizard apprentices from Section Serpentine, strode toward Amethyst the moment she noticed the girl’s eyes flutter open. Concern was evident in her expression, but so was relief, as though a weight had been lifted from her chest.

Amethyst, now lying upon an enchanted bed woven from threads of celestial silk, blinked against the radiant glow that filled the room. Though the chamber was bathed in soft, golden light, remnants of ethereal dust still lingered in the air—tiny shimmering specks suspended in time, drifting lazily as if reluctant to settle.

The very walls pulsed with arcane energy, their ancient runes flickering with a gentle luminescence, as though responding to the awakening of the girl resting within.

Her gaze wandered upward, and for the first time, she noticed the bottles.

Dozens of glass vials—no, not merely suspended, but hovering—floated in the air above her, each one cradling a different liquid, swirling with impossible colors that seemed to shift and shimmer with an inner light. Some glowed softly, pulsating like the heartbeat of a sleeping star, while others flickered erratically, their contents dancing between transparency and opalescence.

They were neither tethered by string nor upheld by visible magic, yet they remained aloft, moving in a slow, deliberate orbit around her bed like celestial bodies caught in an unseen gravitational pull.

And then, she felt it.

A delicate, almost imperceptible connection—a pull in her veins, a whisper of energy threading through her very being. These bottles weren’t merely decoration or alchemical wonders stored for later use. They were the reason she was still breathing. Each vial hummed with raw magic, feeding into her, stitching together the frayed edges of her existence with invisible threads of life force.

She swallowed, her throat dry as realization settled in. She wasn’t just lying in a recovery chamber. She was tethered to it.

Amethyst’s breath hitched as the memories surged back into her consciousness with unrelenting clarity. The cold, the clash of magic, the way Silvermist had effortlessly dismantled everything she had worked for—her pride, her title, her very purpose. She had brought this upon herself, digging her own grave with unwavering determination, only for Silvermist to stomp upon it, mocking her as the rightful heir to the title of Winter Apprentice.

"Amethyst..." Elise murmured gently, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "You’ll be fine now."

But Amethyst barely acknowledged her presence.

"How long has it been?" she asked, her voice sharp, urgent. She didn’t even spare Elise a glance, instead throwing an arm over her eyes as if trying to shield herself—not from the light, but from the shame threatening to swallow her whole.

"Four days," Elise answered, her lips pressing into a thin line. She turned away, reaching for a glass of water that—oddly enough—hadn’t been there before but now sat conveniently on the bedside table, as though it had manifested from thin air.

Amethyst’s fingers twitched. The chamber still hummed with magic, residual spells likely responsible for the water’s sudden appearance. Yet, her focus remained elsewhere.

"A-And the others?" Her voice wavered, cracking under the weight of uncertainty. "W-What happened to them?"

Elise hesitated before looking at her. "Everyone’s fine. And if you’re asking about someone in particular, like Silvermist... well, we don’t know." She sighed, shifting her weight as if contemplating how much to reveal. "However, since she turned against her own master, launching a crystal spear straight into—"

"WHAT?!"

The world around her seemed to blur as Amethyst bolted upright, her vision swimming, but the urgency in her chest overpowered any dizziness. She turned sharply toward Elise, heart hammering. "FROST HAS BEEN HARMED?!"

Elise hesitated for only a second before nodding. "He was." She stepped closer, offering the glass of water, but Amethyst didn’t even acknowledge it. "He saved you from that wretched woman. You’re lucky he was right on time—"

She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze narrowing as she caught the change in Amethyst’s expression.

Brows furrowed, lips pressed into a hard line, Amethyst wasn’t reacting as one might expect. There was no relief, no gratitude, no flicker of admiration for the master who had risked himself to intervene. Instead, something else brewed behind her violet eyes—something Elise couldn’t quite place.

"Why do you look like that?" Elise asked, incredulous. "Aren’t you happy? On the bright side, at least you were able to stand that close to Frost. He even saved you—"

"No."

Amethyst’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching atop the blankets as she muttered, "I’m not the one he saved."

Suddenly, a chill swept through the room, not the gentle coolness of a passing breeze but something sharper, more deliberate—magic, residual and lingering.

The golden motes of dust suspended in the air flickered briefly, as though shivering in response. Then, the heavy wooden door groaned on its hinges, its slow creak breaking the uneasy silence.

Cloud stepped in first, his presence commanding despite his casual stance. Behind him, East and Sun followed, their expressions unreadable.

The moment they entered, the atmosphere shifted; whatever warmth had been left in the room was drained, replaced by an almost suffocating tension.

Amethyst inhaled sharply, her gaze darting beyond the three figures, her heart betraying her as it leapt to her throat. She was expecting someone else. No—she was hoping.

But then Sun turned, and with a decisive click, shut the door behind him.

Her lips quivered.

No one else was coming.

Cloud let out a low hum, his voice a rumbling prelude to his thoughts. He cleared his throat, deliberately slow, and fixed Amethyst with a sharp, piercing glare. His ivory eyes held no warmth—only scrutiny.

"So," he murmured, his tone both assessing and unyielding. "You’re awake."

Amethyst couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her throat tightened, and her gaze flickered toward Elise, who stood quietly in the corner, head bowed as if she too feared speaking out of turn.

"How are you feeling?" East asked, his voice a stark contrast to Cloud’s—gentler, almost careful, as if he knew how fragile the situation was.

"I’m alright," Amethyst murmured, her tone subdued, heavy with shame. "Thanks to your concern and care, Your Highnesses."

East’s lips parted, but before he could speak, Sun cut in with a careless shrug. "Oh, we didn’t do anything," he said, voice light but dripping with indifference. "If you were to ask me, we should’ve just left you to succumb to your injuries—"

"Sun!"

Cloud’s voice cracked through the air like a whip, his roar making even the golden motes of dust tremble. The room, already cold, seemed to drop several degrees lower.

Sun flinched but barely—just enough for those who knew him to recognize it. He huffed and crossed his arms, kicking at the floor as if scolding it. "I told you I shouldn’t be here," he muttered under his breath.

And everyone heard it.

Sun, the youngest of the Guardians—aside from Periwinkle—had always been sharp-tongued, his words cutting where others might choose restraint. Perhaps that was why he rarely spoke, preferring silence over the risk of his own recklessness.

Yet, despite his crude honesty, his presence here meant something. He wouldn’t be standing in front of Amethyst if he weren’t needed.

Still, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way his fists twitched at his sides—it was clear he had more to say.

Amethyst swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the sheets beneath her. She couldn’t even argue. He’s right.

She did deserve this.

And yet... something inside her twisted, restless.

A part of her wanted to protest, to speak for herself. But what right did she have? She was here, barely breathing, staring up at the Guardians like a sinner awaiting judgment.

And she had never felt smaller.

"I assume you remember what happened before you passed out," Cloud said, his tone softer now, almost cautious.

Amethyst lowered her gaze to the floor, a shadow crossing her expression. She gave a small nod, silent but weighted.

Cloud exhaled, then turned to Elise. "Miss, would you mind giving us a moment alone?" His voice was polite, but there was an unmistakable firmness beneath it.

"C-Certainly," Elise stammered. She bowed deeply, turning on her heel so quickly that she nearly tripped over the edge of the robe she is wearing before slipping out of the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

East took a step forward, sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes warm yet unreadable. "As the Grandmaster of Moonstone Academy, I’d like to have a heart-to-heart talk with you, Amie."

Amethyst’s breath hitched.

Amie.

Only one person had ever called her that. Her grandfather.

Her wide eyes snapped up to meet East’s, disbelief flashing across her face. How? How could he possibly know that name?

East must have seen the confusion in her gaze because he merely smiled. "Don’t look so shocked. It’s only natural that we’d learn such details, considering you are our brother’s apprentice."

Zephyr... he knew?

Her heart pounded at the revelation, but before she could form words, Cloud spoke again.

"Zephyr was the one who took care of you these past few days," he said, his voice calm yet firm. "You had a two percent chance of survival when the battle ended. So Zephyr did what he had to."

A strange unease crawled up her spine.

"D-Did what?" she asked, voice cracking.

Cloud exhaled slowly. "He performed a Life Reincarnation on you."

The words hit her like a tidal wave. Her breath faltered. LifeReincarnation. A spell so perilous that even hearing about it sent a shiver through her veins.

It was not a mere healing spell—it was an ancient and forbidden act of self-sacrifice, a ritual where the healer transfers a portion of their own life force to the one they wish to save. Unlike ordinary healing magic, which mended wounds and restored energy, this spell came at an irreversible cost.

To perform a Life Reincarnation, the caster had to tether their own essence to the injured, allowing their vitality to flow into the other like an ethereal river. It was a delicate balance—too little, and the recipient would remain on the brink of death; too much, and the healer might never wake again.

The process was excruciating, as it required the caster to bear the pain, injuries, and exhaustion of the one they were reviving. It wasn’t just a sacrifice of energy, but of years—a piece of the caster’s lifespan burned away, reducing their own existence in exchange for another’s survival.

Most who attempted it did not walk away unscathed. Some were left permanently weakened, their bodies frail and drained of strength. Others simply never woke up, their souls dissipating like embers in the wind, consumed by the spell itself.

That was the price of Life Reincarnation. A life for a life.

And Zephyr had chosen to pay it—forher.

Her lips parted, but it took her a moment to find her voice. "W-Where is Zephyr? What happened to him?"

"It doesn’t concern you."

Sun’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. His expression was unreadable, his tone sharp and laced with irritation. He didn’t even try to mask his resentment.

"You rejected your own master, Amethyst," he continued, his golden gaze burning into her. "Now what right do you have to even mention his name?"

Guilt twisted deep inside her, like an iron hook dragging her down.

"Sun, please," East sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice was patient, but tired.

Amethyst’s throat tightened.

She wanted to protest, to demand answers—because the uncertainty was unbearable. But Sun’s words rang in her head, shackling her tongue.

What right did she have?

"I-I..." Amethyst inhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling with the weight of impending consequence. "I’ll accept whatever p-punishment you see fit."

East’s expression hardened into a grim line, his eyes unreadable. Cloud and Sun remained silent, their gazes heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"Well," East began, his tone edged with deliberation. "If it were up to me, I’d ensure your punishment carried some real weight. However, despite the chaos you inadvertently provoked with Silvermist, your transgressions remain—tolerable." His gaze flickered briefly toward Cloud, a silent request for permission to speak further. Cloud, however, gave a subtle shake of his head, signaling restraint.

East exhaled through his nose before continuing, a grin curling at the edges of his lips. "Fortunately for you, The Lunar King has devised a more fitting punishment."

Amethyst swallowed hard. That grin sent an uneasy shiver down her spine. Whatever The Lunar King had in mind, she suspected it would be far less forgiving than East’s personal brand of justice.

Still, she had no grounds to protest. At the very least, they had not stripped her of her title as an apprentice. That alone was a mercy.

"Now," East took a deliberate step closer, his presence looming. "As for the reason our foul-mouthed brother is here—" he gestured lazily toward Sun, who scoffed in response—"it is to honor Zephyr’s request."

Amethyst’s breath hitched as she lifted her gaze.

"We heard every word you uttered back at the arena," East continued, his voice steady, "but Frost is—was—never one to be easily swayed. We cannot compel him to take you as his foster apprentice, especially now that circumstances have grown... precarious." His eyes flickered toward Sun before returning to her. "That said, given that you are the Wind Apprentice, it is only logical that you be paired with the Summer Guardian. After all, he is one of the Four Seasons."

Amethyst’s brows knit together, uncertainty clouding her expression. "A-Are you saying Zephyr has abandoned me?"

"You could put it that way," Sun muttered with little enthusiasm. "But don’t get all mopey about it. I’ll take you as my foster apprentice. My brother’s will and all that."

"No," Amethyst blurted without hesitation.

Sun raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? But I thought you wanted—"

"Forgive my rudeness, Your Highnesses," Amethyst interrupted, steeling herself despite the tremor in her voice, "but I cannot allow this conversation to continue. I may have spoken out of turn, may have wounded Zephyr with my words, but I will not—cannot—abandon the one who saved me. He is my master. My loyalty remains with him." She bowed her head, voice firm despite the nervous edge. "I will accept whatever punishment you see fit, but I refuse to forsake Zephyr."

A quiet tension filled the air.

Then, to her surprise, the corners of Cloud’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

"Very well," he murmured.

"Then I’ll expect you in my office later?" East inquired.

Amethyst nodded. "I’ll be there, Your Grace."

Without another word, the three Guardians turned and left, Sun grumbling under his breath about wasted time.

Just as they stepped beyond the threshold of Amethyst’s quarters, a new presence emerged.

"Your Highnesses..."

The three Guardians turned to their right. Yin and Yang materialized in the dim corridor, their presence carrying an unspoken urgency.

East, Cloud, and Sun exchanged glances. They already knew—something was wrong.

"The temperature at Furnace Creek in Death Valley, California, has dropped to an unprecedented -89.2°C," Yin reported, raising a hand where a 3D map materialized in the air. The once-scorching desert was now a chilling blue, engulfed by unnatural cold.

"Meanwhile," Yang added, stepping beside his twin and shifting the projection, "the Eastern Antarctic Plateau is experiencing a sudden heat surge of 136°F. These anomalies began five minutes ago, and there is no indication of stabilization."

A sharp intake of breath. Then—

"Sun," Cloud’s voice rang with command.

"Yes?"

"You’re going to Furnace Creek. Neutralize the temperature by any means necessary."

Sun crossed his arms. "And the Eastern Antarctic Plateau? Frost is still in hibernation—so is Zephyr."

"I’ll handle it," Cloud replied, tension coiling in his jaw. "Now go!"

Sun gave a curt nod before vanishing into thin air.

Cloud turned to East. "Stay with the apprentices. Strengthen the Academy’s barriers."

East’s eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that she is responsible?"

Cloud’s expression darkened. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But if she is behind this, then you know what must be done."

East stiffened.

"If she appears, you must kill her."

For the first time, East faltered. His breath grew heavy, and the dimly lit corridor seemed colder, emptier.

Cloud disappeared, taking Yin and Yang with him.

And East was left alone.

His fingers twitched at his sides, his throat tightening.

"H-How am I supposed to kill our sister, Cloud?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

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