The whiteness of the sky merged with the whiteness of the earth until the horizons vanished, leaving nothing but the howling wind to tear through the silence of this frozen void. Amidst this glacial wreckage, the eroded remains of house walls, skyscrapers, and shops protruded—remnants of a once-vibrant world now reduced to frost-covered skeletal ruins. Red stains and corpses littered various places... the silence broken only by the distant cries of soldiers and agonizing screams.
From behind the fog of the storm emerged the figure of a man dressed in torn white royal garments, sinking into the snow up to his knees. His long black hair was matted with blood, and his blue eyes, which once shone like rubies, overflowed with a terror that was not for himself, but for the warm bundle he held tightly against his chest.
The man coughed, spraying a red mist that stained the snow before him. He did not look back; the sound of the snarling pursuit was drawing closer.
"You won't make it..." A voice as sharp as a knife pierced the wind. "Destiny does not escape its masters, O King."
The king stopped. He dug his foot into the frozen ground and turned slowly. Behind him stood a youth dressed in layered black clothing, enveloped in a dense black aura. He gripped a long spear pulsing with dark energy. His frayed black hair whipped momentarily in the air, and his black eyes stared at the king, surrounded by a violet halo. Despite his short stature, he was both majestic and terrifying.
The king did not speak. Instead of dialogue, he reached his free hand toward the sky. In an instant, the air literally froze. It wasn't mere ice; time itself seemed to stop. A wave of icy shards erupted from the earth, transforming the area into a forest of giant frozen thorns reaching over five feet high, separating him from his pursuer.
But the power was too much for his exhausted body to bear. The king staggered, and the bundle slipped from his hands. The infant tumbled down an icy slope, his small eyes opening to reflect the pale moonlight. The child began to cry before falling into a deep abyss that had split the earth as a result of the war...
Amidst his blood, the king smiled as he watched the child disappear into the depths of the void. He looked at the man with the spear and said in a broken but triumphant tone: "I have placed him in the hands of fate... go and search for him in hell if you wish, but I stand guard here no matter what happens."
Shimoro woke up to an unusual, biting cold, even for the village of Tatsuma. He opened his eyes slowly 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 blanket 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 trembling while his pale skin turned even whiter.
At the door stood Grandma Kaina, her white hair tied, her black eyes, and her glowing, yellowish skin. She leaned 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.
She said calmly, sipping from her cup: "Sleeping in Tatsuma is a luxury attained only by those who rise with the sun. As for the lazy... they turn into decorative statues."
Shimoro grumbled, rubbing his arms for warmth: "You could have just shaken my shoulder! You nearly froze my heart this time!"
A mischievous smile formed on the grandmother's face as she held her cup.
"That is your punishment for your mischief yesterday. Now, move along and eat."
Shimoro sat grumbling at the small dining table, lunging at the bowl of soup with a hunger fit for 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 concern.
Kaina placed her hand on the table and said firmly: "Eat a little slower. 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 in a muffled voice: "Study? But the weather is great outside! Besides, I promised Kenta we would practice hunting today!"
Kaina struck the ground with her staff: "You are twelve years old, Shimoro! Strength isn't everything; the mind is what leads it. Study now, and you shall play later."
"But I don't even have the strength to lead!" Shimoro shouted in a tone that escaped him against his will. He stood up quickly, snatched an extra piece of bread, and jumped out of the open window, shouting: "I'll be back before sunset, I promise!"
Kaina sighed as she looked at his tracks in the snow, then murmured with a nostalgic smile:
"Children these days... they flee from knowledge like ice flees from fire."
Outside, Tatsuma was pulsing with life. The village was a painting of dark wood and snow. Shimoro saw his neighbor, Goro the baker, using his icy breath to quickly cool trays of hot cakes. He saw three children... one of them with messy yellow hair. Kenta shouted loudly when he saw Shimoro:
"He's here! Hurry, Shimoro, we've been waiting for you!"
Shimoro smiled and ran toward them, closing his eyes in excitement. However, the two children beside Kenta had a different opinion.
"Are you inviting that powerless one again?" the first grumbled, while the second replied arrogantly with a smirk: "He can't control snow and he doesn't study. How he must envy us now."
Shimoro passed them, running faster and lowering his head slightly. Everyone possessed that blue "flash" in their hands, but as for him... his hands were just ordinary hands, annoyingly warm in a cold world.
"Shimoro! Look out!"
The voice came too late. Shimoro collided with Tetsu the blacksmith, a man as massive as a mountain, who was carrying glowing iron ingots. Shimoro fell onto the snowy road and looked up to see Tetsu's face flushed red with anger.
"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 stood up and ran as fast as he could, while Tetsu waved his hammer behind him, laughing with irritation.
Kenta looked at the two children and said angrily, "Don't bully my friend Shimoro!" Then he looked toward Tetsu and said, a bit fearful but responsible: "I am sorry on his behalf," before running off to find Shimoro.
Shimoro fled toward the small "artificial forest" located behind his grandmother's house—a cluster of dense trees planted by families long ago for firewood. His heart was pounding hard, not from running, but from the sense of inadequacy that attacked him whenever he saw someone use their magic simply, and whenever someone bullied him.
"I must make it up to Grandma..." he muttered to himself, picking up a dry branch. "If I gather enough firewood for heating, maybe she'll forgive me for running away."
He began digging beside the trees and gathering wood... until, while rummaging under an old oak tree covered in snow, he spotted something strange. It wasn't a branch; it was 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 created. It was dark blue, and in its heart was something resembling moving black smoke. As soon as his fingers touched it, he felt electricity coursing through his body—heat and cold at once—as if the crystal were sending a signal.
"What is this?" Shimoro whispered, his eyes wide with wonder.
"It is something quite modern and expensive for a village child like you."
Shimoro froze in place. The voice didn't come from the forest; it seemed to emerge from nowhere. He turned slowly to find a man standing a few meters away. He wore a very long black coat that touched the snow and a hat that hid his features, but what caught Shimoro's eye was the small crystal protruding from his pocket... it looked exactly like the one he had found.
Shimoro felt a strange pressure in the air, as if gravity had become heavier.
"Who are you, mister?" 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, unfriendly smile. "I am merely a passerby putting these crystals in their place... and now, little one, be an obedient boy and don't scream."
At that moment, the quiet forest turned 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.