Where once stretched an endless kingdom of frost and shadow, now there remained only the trace of a winter that was finally fading.
The clouds, so long prisoners of a man's resentment, began to disperse, revealing a clear and peaceful sky.
The last layers of snow were melting little by little, sliding down in thousands of droplets that formed puddles over the damp earth. The forests stretched under the clarity of the shy, gentle sun.
Green leaves stirred with a new whisper, while the ice retreated from rivers and seas, freeing the song of the currents that had slept for a century and a half.
Even a small bird, trembling, spread its wings as if awakening from an impossible slumber.
It was as if the planet could breathe again.
In front of a circle of great stones, where Frost and Lorraine now finally rested together, Jiro knelt with his head bowed.
His hands joined solemnly as he murmured a prayer that the wind carried across the newborn plain.
—May their souls have taken the right path to the beyond —he said softly—. And may they finally rest, free from all this pain.
In the distance, Ardan, Saria, and Elliott watched the scene without daring to approach. The calm that enveloped the place was so delicate it seemed like crystal about to shatter.
Saria spoke first, her eyes still wet.
—And to think what a wounded person is capable of doing… so much power, just because of a wound in the heart. Enough to freeze an entire world in his suffering.
Ardan kept his gaze on the horizon before replying.
—But it didn't justify that everyone had to pay for his tragedy. There were innocent people… families, children…
Elliott took a deep breath. His clothes were still torn from the battle and the long captivity, but his voice was calm.
—I can understand both sides. But Frost wasn't entirely guilty. The refuge he found in Lorraine was the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that gave him the illusion he could be happy. In the end, he was just a man… a human being hiding behind the mask of a god.
Ardan lowered his eyes, a glimmer of bitterness in them.
—Speaking of that… —he muttered to himself—. I still can't get out of my head who Jiro really is. It infuriates me to admit it, but I couldn't do anything. I was just an obstacle. I looked like a fool in front of Frost. Jiro was the only one who could face him… because he's also a Chi Tae user.
The disappointment was so clear in his slumped shoulders that even Saria felt compassion. When she first met Jiro, she had only seen him as a distracted, almost ridiculous boy.
But now, after witnessing the magnitude of his power, seeing how his crimson Chi Tae equaled the strength of the very King of Hail, she understood that this traveler was much more than she had ever imagined. Fear and confusion tangled in her chest.
Meanwhile, Jiro finished his prayer and slowly stood up. With a solemn gesture, he fastened his spear to his waist and looked a moment at the stones covering Frost and Lorraine.
—Well… —he said with a nostalgic smile—. These things happen. This world is back to normal… and now it's time for me to return to my main mission.
His fingers closed around the red crescent pendant hanging from his neck, a deep light in his eyes.
—To find the Spirit Kingdom… save my world… and see my family again. And Dad, of course…
He walked forward, crossing the land that had once been a frozen desert, now covered in life and water. But he had barely taken a few steps when a voice boomed so loud it made him jump.
—WHERE IS HE!!!
Jiro almost lost his soul from the fright and ducked as a dark scythe swept over his head. With a desperate yell, he turned to see Kogorō floating behind him, face twisted.
—Kogorō!! —he shouted—. You almost sent me to the afterlife too!!
The spirit looked around, bewildered, while his weapon dissolved into black smoke.
—Where is that idiot? Where's the King of Hail?
He stopped dead as he took in the transformed world. The warm air, the birds singing, the damp fields. The silence without storms.
—What did I miss? —he stammered in disbelief—. Wasn't this place like a giant popsicle?
Jiro let out a long sigh, wiping cold sweat from his forehead.
—Well, turns out we already defeated the Lord of Hail. He was actually a human named Frost, cursed by things he did in the past… and well, he felt alone and wanted revenge for his wife… anyway, long story. —he replied with a brief summary.
Kogorō's jaw dropped so wide it looked like it might unhinge.
—WHAT!!!?! And when did that happen? What happened to me?! The last thing I remember is that lunatic pointing his finger at me and… nothing else!!
Jiro made an awkward gesture, looking uncomfortable.
—Ah… well… he froze you right then. That's why you don't remember anything.
Kogorō was silent for a moment. Then his pupils disappeared, replaced by solid white as he remembered the moment his body was trapped like a statue made only of ice. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled so much it was on the verge of collapse.
—This makes no sense…
He floated closer until he was just inches from Jiro's face, a deranged gleam in his eyes.
—And if I was frozen, how is it possible you walked away without triggering the distance seal on the spear? Isn't it supposed to activate if you get too far from me? Does that mean you were fighting him while I was an ice ornament?!
Jiro scratched his head, looking away.
—No, there was no seal… because the moment he froze you, he also broke the distance bond…
For an instant, Kogorō seemed petrified. Then his whole face contorted in a scream that echoed across the valley.
—AAAAHHHH!!! So you're telling me all this time you were beating each other to death with that deranged ice cream man, I WAS FREE FROM YOU?!
Jiro swallowed as he watched the spirit writhe in frustration.
—Well… yeah… but you couldn't move because… you know… you were frozen…
Kogorō clutched his head, letting out a shriek that rattled the last shards of frost.
—NOOOOO!!! Come back, you snow clown… you have to come back to break my seal once and for all!!
Jiro took a step back nervously, raising his hands.
—The dead don't come back, Kogorō!! Just accept it already!!
Kogorō's scream blended with the birdsong and the murmur of thawed rivers.
Jiro stood in the main square of the kingdom, surrounded by the ice statues that had once been men, women, and children. The silence was so dense that not even the wind seemed to dare disturb it.
He walked slowly among those frozen figures, some with expressions of terror, others of wonder, as if the last thought they had ever had remained trapped with them.
Heart racing and soul unsettled, Jiro stopped before an old man holding a small child frozen in his arms. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath before speaking in a trembling voice.
—Why don't they thaw as well…? —he murmured, unable to look away—. I don't understand… wasn't the curse already broken?
Mr. Elliott approached slowly. On his shoulder, Guilo, the little time owl, turned his head in a curious gesture. Elliott tilted his face, his brow slightly furrowed.
—Mmm… I don't know —he said honestly—. They were supposed to be freed along with the animals. I don't think they're dead…
Saria, who had remained silent until then, took a step forward and raised her voice anxiously.
—Then… what is it? They should have woken up just like the creatures did!
Ardan, with his usual almost distant calm, crossed his arms and let out a soft sigh.
—Even though animals are living beings, maybe the curse works differently on humans… —he answered in a tone that mixed reflection and resignation.
Guilo tilted his head a little, his round eyes glowing as he watched the frozen statues intently.
—There's nothing to worry about —he assured in a soft, almost childlike voice—. I can hear the time beating in their hearts… they're still alive. What happens is that, since they're humans, their thawing is much slower than for other beings.
Saria's relief mingled with worry, and her voice trembled as she asked:
—But how long… how long will it take?
Guilo flapped his wings with a delicate gesture and spoke with a certain tenderness:
—In forty-eight hours… they will awaken. Two days. That's all they need.
—Two days?! —Saria repeated in disbelief.
—Well, if they've been frozen for a hundred and fifty years, what's a couple more days? —the owl added, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Kogorō, looking defeated, floated to perch near Jiro. His ghostly eyes seemed even more sunken than usual.
—Sure, stupid bird —he grumbled, voice thick with resentment—. Imagine waking up after a century and a half and finding everything changed. Damn walking freezer… —he complained, referring to Frost—. Would it have killed you to break my seal with all your power? I'd rather have stayed free than trapped with those brats…
His lament ended in a brief sob as he curled in on himself, defeated by the nostalgia of a lost chance.
Jiro couldn't help letting out a small sigh and replying with a hint of irony, though with compassion:
—Then… if you think about it, these people are now a hundred and fifty years old… including the children…
Mr. Elliott nodded, looking somewhere between reflective and exhausted.
—Exactly. Although… —he coughed softly—. My case is different. I spent those hundred and fifty years… conscious. Running from Frost, hiding in temples and tunnels… And even so, I don't understand why I haven't died.
He placed a hand on his chest as if feeling an invisible pain and shook his head. Then he looked resolutely at Guilo.
—But Guilo… could you help us? Use your time magic to shorten the wait?
The owl straightened a little taller on his shoulder, puffing out his chest with an almost proud gesture.
—Of course, young master. Whatever you say.
While everyone held a reverent silence, Guilo spread his wings. A green glow emerged from his tiny body and rose into the sky, transforming into countless symbols and clock hands that turned slowly.
A wave of brilliant energy spread in all directions, sweeping across the planet with a deep murmur that made the air vibrate.
When it was over, Guilo lowered his eyelids again, visibly exhausted.
—It's done… —he said in a thread of voice—. I have reduced their thawing time to five hours. That's all I could do.
Elliott, trembling with weariness, lifted his thumb in approval, but as he opened his mouth, he leaned sideways and vomited a stream of liquid shimmering with rainbow sparks.
—Mr. Elliott! —they all shouted at once, running to him.
Elliott struggled to catch his breath and raised his hand as if it were nothing more than a minor annoyance.
—I'm… fine… don't worry —he mumbled while wiping himself—. I'm used to it by now…
Jiro watched him with sincere admiration and nodded respectfully.
—I'm still impressed by your power… and I thank you for everything you've done for all of us.
Elliott placed a hand over his heart, his eyes a little wet, and smiled wearily.
—You have nothing to thank me for. I'm the one who should be grateful. You… gave me back the freedom I thought I had lost forever. Now I can walk without fearing I'll turn into an ice statue.
Saria stepped forward gently and looked at Jiro.
—And it was all… all thanks to you.
Ardan, in a calm voice, asked:
—And what will you do now, Elliott?
Elliott sighed and lowered his gaze, thoughtful.
—Truthfully… I don't have a home to return to. And going back to my world… for now is impossible. But I must meet with Liliana, Frost's sister. She will need help to rebuild this kingdom and understand what happened.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small compass carved with symbols that seemed to move on their own.
—Before you go, take this. A universal compass. I found it in Frost's castle. It will be useful… it can replace the one you lost on your travels.
Saria took it gratefully, her eyes shining.
—Thank you so much… truly. We didn't know how we would go on without this.
Jiro smiled in relief.
—That means… we won't have to wander aimlessly again.
Elliott placed a hand over his heart as he looked at them fondly.
—I wish you luck… with all my heart.
Holding the dimensional map, Jiro raised the crimson spear. Everyone's gaze met Elliott's one last time.
—We will meet again… I promise.
Elliott lifted his hand in farewell as a bright light surrounded the travelers.
In an instant, a deep flash illuminated the square and made them disappear, leaving behind a silence as heavy as memory itself.
Far away, in hyperspace, while countless universal lines intertwined, Jiro gripped the spear guiding them to their next destination.
A month had passed since that day when everything ended. The world, after a silence of ice that lasted a century and a half, awoke with such profound bewilderment that many took weeks to accept life was moving on.
For 150 years they had been trapped in the stillness of Frost Delgard's curse, their bodies imprisoned in an eternal winter that erased generations and broke kingdoms.
When they finally thawed, the cities were intact but worn by the quiet, like a dream too long that leaves a hangover in the heart.
At first, chaos spread. Disoriented families searched for those who no longer existed, and the survivors had to accept they had awakened in a world that had kept going without them.
But in time, humanity did what it does best: it adapted. The markets opened again, the bells rang once more, children reappeared in the squares.
As if everything had been a nightmare too vivid for dawn not to gently erase.
In the heart of a jungle tangled with vines and roots, Elliott walked alongside Liliana Delgard. They moved slowly beneath the towering trees that felt like green temples.
Liliana held a leather-bound notebook in which she sketched symbols and notes with a focused expression. Her glasses gave her a sterner look than usual, though her eyes carried the same sadness that would not quite fade.
Elliott broke the silence in a low voice.
—We need to be careful, Liliana. This area hasn't been fully explored.
Liliana nodded without looking at him, absorbed in the white pedestal rising among the foliage, eroded by centuries of moisture.
—This must be a Shiketsu-category fissure —she replied calmly while examining the edges of the statue.
—What does that mean exactly? —asked Elliott, though he knew the answer would not be simple.
—It's one of the most unstable —she said, bending down to rub her fingers over a symbol carved into the base—. If we don't close it in time, it could multiply and fracture other regions.
Elliott swallowed, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon just in case.
—Then we'd better finish this before it evolves.
They approached the statue together. It was a tall human figure, covered in lichen and cracks, its face partially devoured by the passing of millennia. Beside it, Guilo, the little golden-eyed owl, turned his head nervously.
—I feel compressed dimensional energy in this statue —Guilo said in a trembling murmur that echoed through the jungle's stillness.
Liliana passed her palm over the letters. The touch stripped away a thin layer of moss, revealing a name chiseled in ancient script. Her lips moved soundlessly before she finally spoke it aloud in a barely audible voice.
—This is the symbol of Kendall Morrison… —she murmured, remembering that day, so many years ago, when she had told her brother about that man—. The supposed creator of the loom temples.
Elliott frowned.
—There are more inscriptions here. Can you read them?
Liliana bent until her hair brushed the stone.
—Yes… but this language predates any civilization recorded in the royal archives. Give me a second…
The silence grew heavy as her eyes traced each line. At last, she raised her voice, faintly shaking.
—It says here: The coming of the god of white. Praise be to the god of white…
Elliott stepped back, as if those words carried something unseen.
—A god of white? What could Kendall have to do with a cult like this? —he asked, his breath coming faster.
Liliana slowly shook her head.
—I don't know. But if Kendall Morrison marked this statue, that means he knew this site centuries ago.
—And if there's this much dimensional power contained here, maybe… he wasn't acting only as an inventor. Maybe he was preparing something. But what was Kendall Morrison dealing with, to mark a statue like this in multiple places with dimensional energies —Liliana wondered to herself, confused, her mind tangled in riddles.
Guilo straightened on Elliott's shoulder, his feathers bristling.
—Something is making my feathers quiver. I feel… the universe doesn't look good. It's as if this statue were a beacon for something that is about to return.
Elliott lifted his gaze to the gray sky barely filtering through the canopy. His voice was a whisper laden with bitter certainty.
—You're not the only one, Guilo.
—Sometimes I think that everything we've lived… Frost's curse, the fissures, the ruin that followed… it's only a prelude. Something that's coming for all of us. And it won't be for the better.
As he spoke, far away, in the vast darkness of the cosmos, the galaxies spun with the serenity of the eternal. No one saw how, among the fabric of stars, a fissure formed silently, a fold in the skin of the universe.
Through that fissure slipped a tiny object: a white horse, a simple chess piece carved in ancient ivory.
It floated among the light of the constellations as an impossible void opened around it. And though it seemed insignificant, space itself appeared to shudder at its arrival.
An omen. A warning. Or perhaps the beginning of a riddle so vast that not even the Universe could solve it.