The night wind across the grassland grew sharper. Even the crackling bonfire couldn't fully ward off the cold. The smell of burning wood mixed with the soft breeze—creating a tranquil atmosphere, yet too tranquil, as if warning them to stay alert.
Yinzu walked back to the coachman, who was tying wooden poles together to form the frame of a small tent. Meanwhile, the horses looked restless; their hooves occasionally stomped the ground, as though sensing something humans couldn't.
"Sir, I'm back. What can I help with?" Yinzu asked while pulling his mantle closer.
The coachman glanced at him, then pointed at several ropes. "Hold this end. We need the tent to be sturdy. The wind here likes to change without warning."
Yinzu nodded, grabbing the rope and pulling it together with the coachman. Several times the sudden gusts nearly toppled the incomplete structure. The coachman clicked his tongue in frustration.
"This wind… it's usually not this bad," he muttered.
"Turns out you're pretty hot-headed, Uncle."
"Well… sometimes I do get annoyed."
"Oh, and… you're a caster, right? You lit that campfire with magic earlier. That was amazing."
The coachman chuckled bitterly. "I used to be a student at the Royal Academy. But after six years there, I still couldn't surpass the second circle. So they dismissed me."
"Oh… so you're a second-circle caster? That's impressive."
"Hmph. Even if I didn't pass, at least I learned plenty."
"Hahahaha!" They laughed together.
When the laughter faded, an awkward silence fell between them—until Yinzu finally asked:
"Sir…" Yinzu hesitated. "If… someone accidentally released elemental magic… could it affect the weather around them?"
The coachman stopped tightening the rope. He stared at Yinzu for a long moment, as if trying to determine whether the question was innocent curiosity or something far more serious.
"In theory… yes," he answered at last. "Especially if it's wind, water, or fire. Those elements naturally influence the surroundings."
"What if the person didn't realize they were using it?"
The coachman raised a brow. "That's… rare. Usually you can feel your mana flowing. You would have to be very untrained, or… have talent that's far too strong."
The last words made Yinzu's heart skip a beat.
Too strong?Untrained?Or… both?
He swallowed hard.
"Do you know someone like that?" the coachman suddenly asked, staring more sharply.
Yinzu flinched. "Ah… n-no… I was just curious…"
The coachman didn't push further, though suspicion still lingered in his eyes.
After a few more minutes struggling against the wind, the tent was finally standing. Simple, but enough for two. The coachman wiped his sweaty forehead and sat down.
"Thanks, kid. Without you, I'd still be wrestling this pole."
Yinzu smiled faintly. "You're welcome, sir."
He returned to the bonfire, where his mother sat. Laura looked slightly better, though her face remained pale. The blanket wrapped around her trembled in her shivering.
"Mom, still cold?" Yinzu asked.
Laura smiled weakly. "Not as bad as before. Thank you for the warm water."
Yinzu sat beside her. The bonfire's orange glow warmed their faces. Above them, countless stars shone—far more than what they usually saw in the city.
"It's beautiful," Laura murmured.
"Yeah… like a blanket of lights."
They fell silent, admiring the sky. But Yinzu's mind remained uneasy. The freezing wheels… the water turning to ice… the cold mist inside the carriage. Everything pointed at one thing.
"Mom…" Yinzu finally spoke. "Do you think someone can… have magic without knowing it?"
Laura looked at him. "Hmm? It's possible. There are many stories of children unaware of their innate mana."
"What if… they never feel anything when the magic happens?"
"That's rare… but not impossible. It usually means their body is extremely attuned to that element. They won't feel pain or fatigue using it."
Yinzu stiffened. "Attuned?"
"Yes. Like a natural-born affinity. But usually… people like that are dangerous."
Yinzu's breath caught. "Dangerous?"
"Because they can't control it. They might hurt themselves… or others… without realizing."
He swallowed hard.
So all this time…Was I really hurting mom without knowing?
Laura noticed his expression change. She gently stroked his head. "Yinzu… what's wrong?"
"N-nothing," he answered quickly.
But Laura was unconvinced. "If something is bothering you, you can tell me. You don't have to be afraid."
Yinzu opened his mouth—
KRAK.
A twig snapped in the darkness.
They all turned.
The coachman stood, gripping a wooden staff. "Who's there!?"
No response. Only the whisper of the wind.
But Yinzu… felt something. A thin, sharp cold—not from the night air. It came from the ground, rising beneath their feet.
He stood slowly.
"Mom… stay near the fire…"
"Yinzu? Don't scare me like that."
But he didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the moving bushes.
Another rustle.
Then a pair of small round eyes appeared.
A small white fox stepped out—fur glowing like frost under the firelight. Its breath formed thin puffs of mist.
Yinzu froze.
Laura exhaled in relief. "Just an animal… goodness, I thought it was a bandit."
But the coachman frowned deeply. "A white fox… here?"
"Why, sir?" Yinzu asked softly.
"White foxes only appear in snowy regions. Northern continent. They shouldn't exist here."
Before they could even process that—
Yinzu felt it.
The same cold.
Not normal cold.Not night cold.The same cold as his magic.
The fox's eyes locked onto his.
It walked forward…and touched its nose to Yinzu's hand.
In an instant, Yinzu's body jolted.
Images flashed behind his eyes—snow… spiraling winds… a glowing blue magic circle… and a silhouette standing in the middle of a blizzard. The face hidden, but a voice echoed:
"Find me."
"Ah!" Yinzu staggered back, clutching his head.
"Yinzu! What's wrong!?" Laura panicked.
The fox looked at Yinzu one last time—
Then dissolved into tiny shards of ice.Like cold mist dispersing into the wind.
The coachman stared. "I-It disappeared…?"
Yinzu stood still, heart pounding. Not with fear—but with something far greater.
"Yinzu… are you okay?" Laura whispered.
Yinzu slowly looked at his palm—the spot where the fox touched him.
He trembled. Not from cold.And that night, for the first time in his life,
he knew, his life would never be the same again.