The whiteness of the sky merged with the whiteness of the earth until the horizons vanished, leaving nothing but the howl of the wind tearing through the silence of this frozen void. Amidst the glacial wreckage, the eroded remains of house walls stood out—once bustling with life, now merely stone skeletons draped in frost.
From behind the storm's mist emerged the silhouette of a man clad in tattered royal garments, sinking into the snow up to his knees. His long black hair was stained with frozen blood, and his blue eyes, which once shone like sapphires, overflowed with a terror that was not for himself, but for the warm bundle he held tightly to his chest.
The man coughed, spraying a red mist that stained the snow before him. He did not look back; the sound of the black growling pursuing him was drawing closer.
"You will not make it..." A voice as sharp as a knife pierced the wind. "Destiny does not escape its masters, King."
The King stopped. He dug his foot into the frozen ground and turned slowly. Standing behind him was a young man dressed in layers of black, enveloped in a dense black aura. He gripped a long spear pulsating with dark energy. His frayed black hair fluttered momentarily in the wind, and his black eyes stared at the King; despite his short stature, he was majestic and terrifying all at once.
The King did not speak. Instead of dialogue, he stretched his free hand toward the sky. In an instant, the air literally froze. It wasn't just ordinary ice; time itself seemed to stop. A wave of crystalline shards exploded from the earth, transforming the area into a forest of giant icy thorns that separated him from his pursuer.
But the power was greater than his exhausted body could endure. The King staggered, and the bundle slipped from his hands. The infant rolled down an icy slope, his small eyes opening to reflect the pale moonlight. The child did not cry; instead, a tear on his cheek turned into a small crystal bead before he fell into a deep abyss that had split the earth as a result of the explosion.
The King smiled through his blood as he watched the child disappear into the depths of the "Icy Chasm." He looked at the man with the spear and said in a broken yet triumphant tone: "I have placed him in the hands of fate... go and search for him in hell if you wish, but I stand here on guard."
Shimoro woke up to an unusual, biting cold, even for Tatsuma Village. He slowly opened his eyes from a strange dream to see his small wooden room, but something was wrong. He tried to pull the quilt over his shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. The quilt had turned into a solid piece of blue ice, completely stuck to the bed.
"Grandmaaaaa!" Shimoro screamed as he jumped out of bed, his slender body shivering while his slightly white skin turned pale.
At the door stood Grandma Kaina, leaning on her wooden staff, the steam from hot tea dancing across her wrinkled face. Her fingers shimmered with the remnants of a faint blue aura.
"Sleeping in Tatsuma is a luxury reserved for those who rise with the sun," she said calmly, sipping from her cup. "As for the lazy ones... they turn into decorative statues."
Shimoro grumbled, rubbing his arms for warmth. "You could have just shaken my shoulder! You almost froze my heart this time!"
"Your heart is warm enough to endure. Now move; the soup won't wait for long."
Shimoro sat at the small dining table and fell upon the bowl of soup with a greed befitting an entire army. He lifted the bowl with his hand and wiped the remains with a piece of bread in seconds, while Kaina watched him in silence, her eyes a mixture of tenderness and anxiety.
Kaina placed her hand on the table and said firmly, "Slow down a bit. After you finish, the history and geography books are waiting for you in the next room. It's time to study."
Shimoro stopped, bread still in his mouth, and said muffledly, "Study? But the weather is great outside! Besides, I promised Kenta we'd practice hunting today!"
Kaina struck the floor with her staff. "You are twelve, Shimoro! Strength isn't everything; the mind is what leads it. Study now, and you can play later."
"But I don't even have any strength to lead!" Shimoro shouted, the words escaping him against his will. He stood up quickly, snatched an extra piece of bread, and jumped out of the open window, yelling, "I'll be back before sunset, I promise!"
Kaina sighed as she watched his tracks in the snow, then whispered with a sad smile, "Children these days... running from knowledge like ice runs from fire."
Outside, Tatsuma was pulsing with life. The village was a canvas of dark wood and shimmering ice. Shimoro saw his neighbor, Goro the baker, using his icy breath to quickly cool trays of hot cakes, and he saw small children making ice sleds with a single touch of their fingers.
Shimoro passed them, lowering his head slightly. Everyone possessed that blue "flicker" in their hands, but him... his hands were just ordinary hands, annoyingly warm in a cold world.
"Shimoro! Watch out!"
The warning came too late. Shimoro collided with Tetsu the blacksmith, a man as massive as a mountain, carrying glowing iron ingots. Shimoro fell onto the snowy path and looked up to see Tetsu's face flushed red.
"You again, trouble-maker boy?" Tetsu roared.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tetsu! I didn't mean to..." Shimoro didn't wait for a reply; he scrambled up and ran as fast as he could, while Tetsu waved his hammer behind him, laughing with exasperation.
Shimoro fled toward the small "Artificial Forest" behind his grandmother's house, a cluster of dense trees planted by families long ago for firewood. His heart beat wildly, not from running, but from the sense of inadequacy that attacked him whenever he saw someone use their magic so simply.
"I have to make it up to Grandma..." he muttered to himself, picking up a dry branch. "If I gather enough firewood for heating, maybe she'll forget about me skipping my studies."
While digging under an old oak tree covered in frost, he spotted something strange. It wasn't a branch, but a faint glow emanating from beneath the thick layer of snow. He dug with his bare hands, the cold beginning to sting his skin, until there appeared... a crystal.
It didn't look like the ice the villagers made. It was dark blue, and in its heart was something like moving black smoke. As soon as his fingers touched it, he felt electricity surging through his body—heat and cold at once, as if the crystal were "breathing" with him.
"What is this?" Shimoro whispered, his eyes wide with wonder.
"It is something far too modern and precious for a village boy like you."
Shimoro froze in place. The voice didn't come from the forest; it seemed to come out of thin air. He turned slowly to find a man standing a few meters away. He wore a very long black coat that brushed the snow and a hat that hid his features, but what caught Shimoro's eye was the small crystal protruding from his breast pocket... it looked exactly like the one he had just found.
Shimoro felt a strange pressure in the air, as if gravity had become heavier.
"Who are you?" Shimoro asked, hiding the crystal behind his back, trying to conceal the tremor in his voice.
The man took a step forward, his scarf shifting to reveal a cold smile devoid of any friendliness. "I am merely a passerby putting these crystals in their place... Now, little one, be an obedient boy and hand over what you found."
In that moment, the silent forest transformed into a terrifying arena; the wind went completely still, and the ice beneath the man's feet began to crack and turn black. Shimoro realized that his peaceful life in Tatsuma had just come to an end.