FROST
Chapter 61: When the Past Haunts the Present

Chapter 61: When the Past Haunts the Present

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant hum of the Nymph Forest as Silvermist adjusted the Elixir strapped securely to her belt now inside a different bottle that the Queen gave her as an exchange of the original one.

The sky above was painted in hues of deep indigo and violet almost covered with the thickening mists, a testament to the night’s quiet descent.

She had been through too much in just such a short span of time—attacked, saw some watermelons from female ethereal trees, trapped in the Cauldron, nearly losing herself, retrieving the Elixir. And now, it was time to leave.

But the gravity of an unspoken farewell hung between them—like an awkward silence at a family reunion, except this one involved a crimson-haired elf and emotional damage.

So, you’re really leaving now?" Estes asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. Gone was the usual arrogant lilt—replaced with something softer, something dangerously close to sentimentality.

Silvermist shuddered, not from fear, but from the unsettling feeling that this moment was dripping with emotions that makes her fingers itch. She wasn’t sure she was emotionally prepared for that. Or worse—what if he expected a heartfelt response?

For a brief second, she hesitated. "I have to," she finally said, keeping her tone light, as if that could make it easier. "I have a mission, remember?"

Estes let out a sigh, ruffling his long crimson hair—flicking it in all directions like a dramatic prince in a tragic play. Silvermist narrowed her eyes.

Oh, he was absolutely showing off. Any second now, he’d probably start reciting poetry about the pain of parting or gazing wistfully into the distance like a hero in a romance novel.

"Of course," she grimaced under her breath, watching him as he strapped his sword back onto his waist.

The same sword Sebastian threw at the cliff. Estes had retrieved his and Xavier’s weapons when she was inside the Nymph Forest.

"Fine," Estes finally huffed, puffing his lips like an overgrown child. "But just so you know, I am going to visit you in the Guardian Realm whenever I have time."

Silvermist’s nose wrinkled. "Yeah... I really wouldn’t recommend that."

Estes raised a brow. "And why is that?"

"Well, we have way too many good-looking Guardians back in the academy, and let’s just say, I’m not exactly... loved there. If people saw me hanging around with and elf, I’d be getting more glares than usual and probably death threats this time."

Estes’ gaze darkened. "Why would I care about that—Ugh!" he groaned as Silvermist casually stepped on his foot with all the force of a woman who had suffered too much nonsense in too little time.

While he hopped around clutching his injured foot, muttering curses in Elven, Silvermist unclasped the heavy cloak still draped around her shoulders. It smelled faintly of cedarwood and something undeniably Estes. She held it out toward him.

"Here," she said.

But before she could shove it back into his arms, Estes stopped her, his fingers curling around her hand.

"Y-You keep that," he stammered, still wincing as he gently pushed the cloak back to her. "You’ll need it more than I do."

Silvermist blinked, caught off guard by the sudden tenderness in his voice. For someone who had almost killed them earlier, Estes had a way of surprising her since that sudden proposal.

A small smile tugged at her lips. He was truly an interesting fella, wasn’t he? And seeing this version of him made her feel strangely... pleased.

"Thank you," Silvermist muttered, pulling the cloak back.

"Oh, don’t look so sad, my future bride," Estes sniffled, dabbing at an imaginary tear. "We will see each other again, I promise."

"I’d rather not," Silvermist snorted.

Estes gasped like she had just run over his pet unicorn. With a dramatic swirl of his cloak, he sulked in a corner, hugging his knees. Within seconds, tiny mushrooms sprouted on his head, as if the sheer weight of his sorrow had physically manifested into fungal growth.

Silvermist squinted. "You might want to get that checked."

Silvermist was about to open her mouth to deliver yet another sarcastic remark to Estes when a voice called her name from behind.

Ezekiel.

"Sil!" Ezekiel called again, jogging toward her. But before he could even take three steps closer, a red blur intercepted his path.

HISSSSSSS!

Estes, in all his Elven prince glory, stood in front of Silvermist, back arched, teeth bared, and—if Silvermist wasn’t hallucinating—his ears seemed to be twitching aggressively like an agitated feline.

Ezekiel recoiled, lifting his hands in surrender. "You know what? Nope. Not dealing with this." He spun on his heel and walked away. "Adeline, Mila—your problem now!"

Silvermist’s lips parted, but before she could say anything, Mila and Adeline already appeared beside her with far too much amusement on their faces.

Mila crossed her arms. "Wow, Sil, you really do attract the weirdest men, huh?"

Silvermist grimaced, shrugging at Estes who is still hissing at Ezekiel. "He is, by far the only one I’ve managed to enchant, what do you mean?"

Adeline, giggling, linked arms with Silvermist and started pulling her away. "Come on, Sil, the ritual is ready. We need to be inside the circle before the Guardians summon us back."

Estes trailed after them, his steps slow and dramatic, for aesthetic he believe. When they finally reached the coast, where Ezekiel had drawn an enormous circle that looked suspiciously like a bigger version of the one from Cloud’s chamber, Silvermist let out a resigned sigh.

"I guess this is it," she muttered, turning to face Estes. "Thank you again. I never would have done it without you, Estes."

For some reason, Estes smiled. Then, with the kind of intensity reserved for those who believe every gesture must have dramatic flair, he took her hand and planted a kiss on it. "Anything for you, my future bride."

Silvermist’s eye twitched. "O-Of course."

As Adeline yanked Silvermist into the circle, Estes finally let go of her hand. "Until then," he said, smiling.

Silvermist returned the smile. "Sure, yeah, whatever you say."

Just as the circles began to glow, Silvermist glanced around for West and Sebastian, only to find them crouching on opposite sides of the circle like two confused cats in a rainstorm.

West was staring intently at an unfortunate stone and she was so sure she had not seen him blink since, while Sebastian... well, Sebastian had his head tilted up, eyes glazed over, drooling like a confused child who had just encountered a magical puddle.

"E-Ezekiel," Silvermist muttered, her voice tinged with concern. "Are you sure they’re back to their normal selves now?"

Ezekiel didn’t even bother stepping closer to Silvermist. He just stood there, squinting at Estes, because despite the blinding light swirling around them, he could still see Estes’ crimson eyes glowing, piercing through the brilliance like laser beams of over-the-top intensity.

It was like Estes’ gaze was trying to literally carve its way into his skull, and Ezekiel was starting to wonder if he’d need a new hairstyle after this.

"A-Ah, yeah... they kinda went that way when they remembered what they did with the nymphs," he said, waving it off like it was just a minor detail.

Mila, ever the professional at sneaking up on people, sidled up to Silvermist and whispered something so quickly that only Silvermist could catch it. "Sebastian even said something about how he’s been... sucked by the Queen."

Silvermist’s face turned an alarming shade of green as she almost gagged. "I-I did not hear that from you, Mila."

Meanwhile, Cullen suddenly gasped and whipped his head toward the grandmaster’s office when he felt sudden shiver crawling up his spine.

He didn’t know why, but an inexplicable sense of unease coiled around him. It wasn’t mana—at least, not in the way he was used to feeling it. And yet, the pressure pressing down on him carried a weight similar to Levi’s gravity magic. But this... this was different.

Levi noticed Cullen’s furrowed brows and the way his fingers lightly drummed against the wooden table, a sure sign that something was on his mind.

With a casual lean, he scooted his chair closer and nudged Cullen’s elbow against the worn surface of the dining table. The lively hum of conversation around them filled the hall, but Levi’s attention was on his companion.

"You okay?" Levi asked, taking another bite of the glowing green apple in his hand. The fruit gave off a faint shimmer under the lantern light, its sweet, crisp texture satisfying against his teeth. He gestured toward it with a small smirk. "This one’s good. You should try this instead of spacing out like that."

Cullen turned to him. "You didn’t feel that?"

Levi blinked, chewing slowly before swallowing. "Feel what?"

"My rage, Levi," Cullen muttered, his voice low and edged with irritation. He swatted at the air absentmindedly, as if shaking off a persistent thought, and in doing so, his gaze inadvertently landed on another table across the hall.

There, Amethyst sat beside Gail, her posture rigid and her expression distant. She wasn’t engaged in their conversation, wasn’t even pretending to listen. Instead, her azure gaze was locked toward the Grandmaster’s office, unwavering and intense.

Cullen’s frown deepened.

"So, it’s not just my imagination," he murmured under his breath. His fingers curled slightly as he turned back toward the hallway leading to the Grandmaster’s office. A shadow lingered there, unseen but heavy, like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm.

"What could it be?" His muttered but Levi heard the edge of apprehension beneath it.

Levi followed his gaze, his usual carefree demeanor faltering for just a second. Something had shifted in the air, something even he—who normally brushed off Cullen’s dramatics—couldn’t ignore.

Cullen was just about to continue eating when the cafeteria doors slammed open, drawing everyone’s attention. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead, and her uniform was rumpled, her hair a tangled mess as if she had been caught in the middle of rigorous training.

She scanned the room frantically before locking eyes on Amethyst, who sat a few seats away, seemingly unaware of the commotion.

Without hesitation, the girl sprinted toward her, weaving between the scattered chairs and half-eaten meals, and leaned down to whisper something urgently into Amethyst’s ear.

Whatever she said made Amethyst’s entire body tense, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. A flicker of unease crossed her face, barely noticeable, but enough to make Cullen pause mid-bite.

Before anyone could react, another apprentice stumbled into the cafeteria, just as disheveled. Her arrival was all the confirmation Amethyst needed. Without a word, she shoved back her chair and bolted toward the exit.

A murmur spread across the room like wildfire. Gail, seated across from Amethyst, exchanged a look with the others at their table before quickly following.

The rest of their group, sensing the urgency, rose from their seats in unison, leaving their trays forgotten. The once-lively cafeteria, filled with the clatter of utensils and idle chatter, fell into hushed curiosity.

Cullen didn’t need anyone to spell it out for him. Something was wrong. His instincts kicked in, and he stood up as well, his chair scraping against the floor.

"Cullen?" Levi called from behind him, confused by the sudden shift in energy. Cullen didn’t answer. He was already moving, weaving through the tables and heading for the exit.

Levi sighed and, with a muttered curse, abandoned his meal and hurried after him.

The moment they stepped into the hallway, they were met with an unusual sight—apprentices had gathered in clusters, whispering amongst themselves. The usually empty corridor was packed, the buzz of concerned voices creating a thick tension in the air.

Cullen and Levi, both taller than most of their peers, had no trouble spotting what had captured everyone’s attention.

At the center of the crowd stood East and Cloud, walking down the corridor, their gazes locked ahead, unfazed by the growing number of apprentices gathering around them. The dim lanterns lining the stone walls flickered, casting long shadows over their figures.

Trailing behind them were four sorcerers draped in pristine white hooded cloaks, their faces obscured.

But it wasn’t just them. Following closely behind were Ezekiel, West, Mila, Adeline, and...

"Sil..." Levi muttered, eyes growing in circles.

Slipping through the throng of onlookers with an air of quiet detachment, Silvermist moved past everyone as if they didn’t exist. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the dim lighting catching in its strands like liquid silk. The way she walked sent a rush of memories Levi wasn’t ready for, memories he had long since pushed away.

But he remained still, his mind stuck on the name he had just spoken. The face he is seeing.

At the other side of the crowd, Gail stood frozen beside Amethyst. She should have been focused on East, Cloud, or the cloaked sorcerers—on whatever strange event was unfolding before them. But she wasn’t.

Her attention had latched onto Levi instead. And Levi... Levi was staring. Not just staring—following. His gaze tracked Silvermist’s every step, like a man seeing a ghost he had never stopped mourning. His expression, usually composed, had shattered into something raw and unguarded. Shock. Longing. Ache.

Of course. Gail only sees that in Levi’s eyes whenever he looks at Silvermist and she hated it so much. Her fingers trembled before curling into tight fists. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. A lump formed in her throat, heavy and bitter.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to tear her gaze away. The crowd was shifting, murmuring, the tension following Silvermist and the others as they disappeared into the north wing.

"Why is it always you, Sil?" Gail mumbled, sharp eyes shifting back to where Silvermist and the others had disappeared.