The afternoon sun barely managed to warm the coliseum. The arena trembled with anticipation as the herald's solemn voice echoed:
—Fourth match of the day! Asori of Azoth versus Riven of Nifelheim!
A murmur swept through the crowd. The name of Nifelheim always carried weight; its warriors were famed for discipline, and above all, for their mastery of ice.
Asori stepped onto the platform. A chill radiating from his opponent raised goosebumps on his skin before the fight had even begun. Riven, tall and silver-haired, stood with arms crossed, his gaze as frigid as the frost wreathing him.
—A child in the tournament… —his voice was dry, cutting—. Don't waste my time.
Asori clenched his jaw, releasing his white aura until it cloaked him, his eyes glowing blue.
—I'll do what it takes.
The gong rang.
Instantly, Riven lifted his hand, and frost spread beneath Asori's boots. The arena floor iced over like a frozen sea. Each step turned into a slip, the crowd roaring at the sight of the boy struggling just to stand.
A sharp whistle tore the air. Riven hurled an ice dagger. Asori barely dodged the first, but the second sank into his right arm.
—Tch! —the pain forced him back.
It wasn't just the wound. A stabbing cold spread through his veins, as if the ice sought to colonize his blood.
Riven smirked.
—Every cut will freeze you from the inside, slowing you down. Soon you'll move like a corpse.
Another volley of daggers flew. Asori dodged some, but two more pierced his thigh and side. His breath grew heavy, his movements sluggish.
From the stands, Blair clenched her fists.
—Asori…!
Mikan leaned toward her with mocking tone.
—Your boy's about to turn into an icicle. He better figure something out quick.
Blair bit her lip, though inside she feared the same.
Asori's body shook. The cold gnawed deeper, stealing his speed. Each step clumsy, each dodge slower.
Is this… the strength of someone without an Orb? Just Astral alone… this powerful?
He remembered Blair's words: "Some master Astral so deeply they bend elements. Not all need an Orb to be strong. But we have what they never will: transformation."
And Eryndor's voice in the mountain: "Those without Orbs pay for every use of Astral. It eats them like fire devours wood."
He drew a breath, forcing himself to endure. The cold was killing him slowly—but it was also draining Riven. He had to wait for the exact moment, when his opponent's energy waned, to strike back.
Riven stepped forward, conjuring icy lances that jutted from the ground like jagged teeth. Asori dodged, rolling and stumbling, until he dropped to one knee, gasping.
—This ends now. —Riven raised both hands. Above him, a storm of ice needles formed, glittering death.
Asori narrowed his eyes, trembling.
—Now or never…
He slammed his palms into the floor.
—Aetherion!
The ground erupted. A blast of compressed Astral tore upward, shattering frost and stone, blinding Riven in a storm of dust.
Asori seized the moment. Reinforcing his legs with Astral until they screamed, he launched himself like a cannonball.
—Haaah!
His fist drove straight for Riven's gut.
But the warrior smiled. A shell of ice crystallized across his torso at the last second.
—I saw this coming. I studied your every move. I knew you'd close the gap.
Asori's hand stuck fast in the ice, the frost creeping up his arm, locking him in place.
—Now die frozen.
Agony seared him, but Asori shut his eyes, drawing a deep breath.
—Not… yet.
His aura exploded, white fire bursting outward. His palm lit up, and another Aetherion detonated point-blank.
The blast ripped through the ice armor, hurled Riven like a rag doll, shattered his defense, and flung him from the platform. The explosion also tore into Asori's arm, leaving it scorched and trembling.
The crowd erupted.
—Asori is the winner!
Asori staggered, barely upright, his breath misting in thick clouds. Inside, the cold still gnawed at him.
Feels… just like when I was a child… the mountain… the cold that left me weak… alone in the dark.
The corridor blurred. His legs buckled.
Then warmth. A gentle heat, soft as spring sunlight. A fire so subtle it pierced the darkness and whispered the simplest truth: you're not alone.
His eyes cracked open. Blair held him, stroking his hair, her aura of flame wrapping him like a living embrace.
—Shhh… it's okay. —Her voice trembled but stayed steady—. I won't let you die from the cold. I'm here.
He wanted to answer, but couldn't. He simply surrendered to that warmth.
In the infirmary, Blair laid him onto a cot. Her hands glowed faint red as she pressed them over his wounds, heat sinking into his frozen flesh.
Asori managed a whisper:
—Blair… you're… warm…
She smiled through tears.
—Idiot. Don't scare me like that ever again.
Carefully, she peeled away his clothes soaked in ice. Asori, flushed, mumbled:
—W-what are you doing?!
—I need to get you warm —she shot back—. If I don't, the cold will finish what he started.
Asori lowered his gaze, cheeks burning. Yet the warmth spread through him, deeper than any blanket.