L U K E

The world snaps back in shards of light and sound. Screams, the crack of something freezing solid, a thousand echoes fighting to make sense. For a second, I can’t tell if I’m standing or still trapped inside that white flash.

When shapes return, the corridor is wrecked. Frost covers the walls and floor. Books lie frozen mid-fall. A girl’s backpack sits half-buried in ice, straps stiff like glass. Students stumble through the haze, shouting each other’s names. Someone’s crying.

At the center of it all crouches the Frost Hound. Steam rolls from its ribs as it lowers its head. The blue glow in its eyes burns like the heart of the flash that threw me here. Instructor Korran should be barking orders, but he’s gone. No one is in control.

My gaze finds Elle first. She stands in the middle of the chaos, her scarf half-torn, face pale. Beside her is the quiet boy from the east wing, too close, his stance protective. He doesn’t move like a normal student. He moves like someone trained for this.

My arm throbs. Frost has crept up my sleeve where the Hound’s breath hit me. The veins of ice crawl toward my wrist, burning cold enough to sting.

“Elle!” My voice cuts through the noise. She looks up, eyes wide but alive, and relief punches through my chest.

The creature shifts, turning toward a cluster of students behind me. They’re trapped against the wall, the floor glazing over under their shoes. I grab the nearest thing with weight, a fallen training spear, and wrench it free from the ice.

“Move!” I shout, stepping between them and the monster. The frost on my sleeve crackles louder with every heartbeat. The Hound growls, sound scraping through my skull. I swing the spear hard across its muzzle. Splinters fly and the blow makes it stumble, breath exploding in a white cloud.

“Luke, stop!” Elle’s voice is high and terrified.

“Not a chance,” I call back, setting my feet as it lowers its head again. “Somebody’s got to keep it looking this way.”

The dark-haired boy moves first. He steps forward like he’s done this a hundred times, calm and fast. Frost spreads under his boots in thin rings that radiate outward. He doesn’t shout. He just angles himself between Elle and the creature, every line of his body ready.

“Get back!” I warn. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

He doesn’t answer. His arm lifts slightly behind him, shielding Elle without touching her. She should step away, but she doesn’t. She watches him, lips parted, breathing quickly.

For a second, I hate that she trusts him enough to stay still.

The Hound prowls sideways, steam curling from its claws. The boy matches its movement perfectly. She moves with him too, like they share the same rhythm. It’s eerie, almost choreographed.

A low vibration hums through the air. Frost creeps along the ground in spirals instead of cracks, precise and symmetrical.

“Elle,” I start, but she doesn’t hear me. Her gaze is distant, focused on something I can’t see.

Then her breathing steadies. The shaking in her hands stops. The frost climbing the walls slows and flattens, forming calm, circular patterns. Even the Hound pauses, head tilted as if confused.

The boy glances back at her, eyes sharp with something I can’t read. The air between them feels charged, cold, and strange.

I edge closer, spear raised. “What are you doing?”

She blinks like waking up. “I don’t know,” she whispers. But the frost softens, the air warming just enough to let me breathe again.

Something glints near my foot. Shattered mirror glass, scattered across the floor. I see my own reflection first, then his, then hers. In the largest shard, her reflection lags a second behind the real thing, mouth still open when she’s already turned.

I blink. The glass fogs, clears, and lags again.

“Elle,” I whisper, eyes locked on it. “Don’t move.”

She looks at me, startled. Her reflection doesn’t follow. It keeps staring at the spot she stood before. The hairs on my neck rise. I slam my boot over the shard, crushing it to powder. The sound is too loud in the frozen air.

The Hound growls again, but before I can react, Elle jerks like something brushed her shoulder.

“What is it?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer. Her pupils are wide, unfocused. “It said my name,” she finally whispers.

“Who did?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like…” She shakes her head, voice shaking. “Never mind.”

The boy shifts closer, as if he heard it too.

Then I hear it. A whisper in the fog, soft and deliberate. Elowen… let me help.

The sound slides through me like ice water.

Elle gasps and clamps her hands over her ears. Frost whirls around her in sudden circles.

“Elle!” I grab her shoulder, trying to pull her back. Her skin burns cold even through her sleeve. “Don’t listen. Look at me.”

She opens her eyes, finding mine through the chaos. The frost steadies. The whisper fades.

The quiet it leaves behind feels even heavier.

The Hound snaps its head toward us again, claws gouging the tiles. It’s had enough waiting.

“Run!” I yell, but Elle doesn’t move. The boy steps forward instead, hand raised like he means to stop the creature by will alone.

The Hound lunges.

I swing the broken spear, slamming it across its jaw. The impact rattles my bones. The creature whips around and charges at me. Before I can brace, a burst of light cuts between us.

The boy’s voice is low, almost a growl. “Get her out.”

“I’m not leaving her!”

He doesn’t answer. He sweeps his arm through the air and frost erupts across the floor, a thin wall between the beast and Elle. The spirals glow blue, intricate and exact, almost written.

The wall shatters under the next hit. Ice sprays through the corridor.

Elle screams, and the sound changes the room.

The frost that had spread outward rushes back toward her in one motion, twisting into new shapes. Spirals, sigils, strange symbols light up under her hands.

“Elle!” I shout, but the glow climbs her arms before I reach her. The air hums like it’s alive.

The creature rears, jaws open wide. Heat and cold collide between them.

I shove forward, but she’s already moving.

Her hand rises.

The world erupts in light again.

The Hound freezes mid-air, body locked in crystal, eyes dimming to white. The blue light from Elle’s palm brightens, then settles into a frost mark etched across her skin. The design is too perfect to be random. Spirals layered over each other, curling like words.

She stares at it, trembling. “I didn’t mean to.”

I can’t speak. The frozen Hound cracks, then falls apart piece by piece until nothing’s left but ice dust and silence.

Students peek from behind overturned desks. Some whisper her name. Others just stare.

The quiet boy lowers his arm, gaze still fixed on her hand. His voice is barely audible. “It’s begun.”

“What’s begun?” I demand, my throat raw.

He doesn’t answer.

Elle’s hand shakes. The light fades, leaving pale frost lines like veins of glass. She meets my eyes, terrified. “Luke, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” I say, though nothing feels okay.

A slow scraping sound breaks the silence.

At the far end of the hall, Silas, the old custodian, steps into view with his broom. He doesn’t look surprised. He just starts sweeping away the frost, calm and methodical, eyes lingering on Elle’s hand as he passes.

No one says a word.

I look back at the floor where the Hound stood. The frost is gone, but faint spirals remain carved into the stone. They shimmer once, catching the light.

When I blink, the pattern shifts.

For a split second, I swear it forms a single word.

LIAR.

The cold rushes through me all over again.

Elle’s breath catches. The silence that follows feels alive, waiting for what comes next.