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Part 1: Fragile Like Snow, Chapter 3: The Warmth, The Frigidity, The Shadow.

Part 1: Fragile Like Snow, Chapter 3: The Warmth, The Frigidity, The Shadow.

As Rayne sat alone, lost in her thoughts from the encounter with Regna, she felt a sense of unease that she couldn't shake. Regna's intense curiosity and probing questions had left her feeling exposed and anxious. Something was definitely up with that strange girl, she thought to herself, a cold shiver running down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill of uncertainty that had settled over her.

-Knock Knock-

Suddenly, somebody knocked onto the bench, catching Rayne's attention and surprise. She turned to the sound and saw a familiar face, one she wasn't expecting to see. Standing there with a warm, gentle smile was Mikhail, his presence instantly soothing her frayed nerves. He looked at Rayne with a smile, holding a tray of food firmly.

"Mind if I take a seat here?" he asked, his voice soft and kind. The anxiety from her encounter with Regna seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of relief. The cold shiver within her spine seemed to have disappeared as soon as she saw him. She looked at Mikhail for a few seconds, not believing her eyes, she questioned why some socialite like him would pick a bench with her, before snapping back to her senses.

"Mikhail?" she gasped, her eyes widening in recognition.

The boy chuckled, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Is this a no?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course! Please take a seat! You needn't ask me," Rayne replied, scratching her head from embarrassment.

She moved over slightly, making room for him on the bench. Mikhail sat down beside her, the bench creaking slightly under their combined weight.

"You looked deep in thought," he observed, his tone gentle. "Something weighing on your mind?" He asked.

Rayne hesitated, unsure of how much to share. "Just... had a strange conversation with someone," she admitted, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

"Huh... Strange how?" Mikhail replied with a question, his curiosity piqued but his concern was evident.

Rayne sighed, glancing around to make sure they weren't being overheard by a particular presence.

"It was somebody, her name was 'Regna', she gives me the creeps for some reason. And we've only met a couple minutes ago. Before you got here," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. Mikhail nodded thoughtfully, he seemed to have understood her struggle, and he thought for a few seconds before snapping his fingers.

"Regna, huh? I've heard of her. Others were saying she's the child of some, noble from the north. She does have a bit of a reputation for being quite... inquisitive," he said, a tinge of paranoia in his voice. Mikhail sighed, and a few seconds of silence passed, until Mikhail broke the ice again.

"Maybe you should go with your guts, if she feels off for you, try avoiding her?"

Rayne appreciated his understanding, although it isn't on her book to avoid someone just because she felt off with them, she was desperate to make friends. A memory of Regna sharing her bread as a token of their friendship returned to her head, and she shook her head, sighing.

"It's not that I don't want to be friends with her, but something about her just felt off," she confessed, her eyes meeting his. Mikhail gave her an understanding nod, and smiled. He gently bumped her shoulder.

"Not everyone you meet will become a friend. And it's alright to be cautious."

His touch and his words brought a warmth that Rayne hadn't realized she needed. She smiled at him, the tension in her shoulders easing.

"Thank you, Mikhail. I guess I just needed to hear that."

Rayne nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude for Mikhail's presence.

"Speaking of which, what brings you here?" she asked, changing the subject.

Mikhail leaned back, stretching his arms casually, he grabbed a bottle of milk from his tray, taking a sip.

"Just taking a break from the class. Thought I'd explore the place, noticed you sitting here alone, so I came to the rescue!" he said with a wink and laughed, Rayne laughed along with him.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. Mikhail stood up, picking up his tray and returning it to the staff. Rayne did the same, feeling a lot better about her hopes of making new friends after her conversation with Mikhail. However, the unsettling image of Regna's intense gaze still lingered in the back of her mind. Together, they returned to their class, resuming the day's studies.

Hours passed, and evening came. Half of the students had fallen asleep at their desks, the monotony of the lessons lulling them into slumber. Heathrine sat at her desk, flipping through a stack of papers, her eyes tired and restless even after working the whole day. Mikhail stared out of the window, daydreaming as the fading light cast long shadows across the room. Rayne yawned, the purple rays of the setting sun casting an ethereal glow on her desk. She jolted herself awake just before she could drift off like the other students.

Heathrine suddenly stood up, glancing at the clock and then at the drowsy children. She sighed and snapped her fingers, a sharp sound that reverberated through the room, waking the slumbering students.

"Pack your things, children. Your first day of school is over in... now," she said just as the school bells rang out, perfectly timed with her words.

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Children flooded out of the school, running towards their parents who had come to pick them up. Rayne walked outside and spotted her father in the crowd. She smiled and ran towards him, her heart light with the joy of seeing him.

"How was your first day of school, champ?" he asked, picking up her school bag and beaming with pride.

"It was great, Dad! I made two new friends!" she replied, laughing.

Their joyful moment was cut short when a girl approached them, the warmth of the reunion quickly overwhelmed by an inexplicable coldness. Rayne's father noticed the shift in the air, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He looked down at the girl who had appeared before them; dark hair, a rose pin, and glasses. She looked up at him with a smile that sent chills down his spine.

"Hi! My name's Regna. I believe Rayne has already told you about me," she said, extending her hand.

Rayne's father hesitated, his instincts screaming at him. Reluctantly, he reached out to shake her hand, feeling the unnatural coldness of her skin. Rayne, looking worried, hesitated to speak but swallowed her fear and stepped towards Regna.

"Rayne! It's been a while!" Regna exclaimed, pulling Rayne into a tight hug.

Feeling awkward, Rayne hugged her back, a sense of unease settling in her stomach. Regna's smile widened, a look of satisfaction crossing her face.

Rayne's father, sensing something deeply wrong, reached out and tapped his daughter's shoulder. He felt something very, very wrong with the girl, he knew he had to get his daughter away from that thing hugging her.

"Champ, your mom's waiting at home. She's cooked your favorite meal for your first day of school," he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the stomach churning inside him.

Regna released Rayne, turning towards her father with that same unsettling smile. His eyes met hers, and he felt a shiver run through him. He needed to get his daughter away from this girl. He was a friendly, social man who had interacted with many types of people throughout his life, but he had never encountered someone like Regna—someone whose smile seemed so genuine yet so hollow, like a perfect mask hiding something rotten beneath.

Regna broke the embrace when she heard the sound of the hooves of horses clicking nearby. She turned to look at the direction and a look of disappointment flickered on her face for just a second, before turning back towards the father and the daughter with a smile.

"Goodbye, Rayne! See you tomorrow!" Regna called out as she ran towards a waiting carriage, hopping onto it before the driver spurred the horses away.

Rayne and her father waited until the carriage disappeared from sight. He crouched down, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes with a mix of worry and urgency.

"Rayne, who is she exactly?" he asked, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.

"I don't know... she just appeared out of nowhere in the cafeteria, and we talked, that's all," Rayne replied, her eyes avoiding his.

"I heard she's the daughter of a noble from the northern regions. They recently moved to town, but that's all I know," she added, her nervousness evident.

"Listen to me, Rayne," her father said, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "Something about her isn't right. You have to be cautious around her, got it?"

Rayne nodded, feeling a chill run through her. He realized that he was scaring his daughter over his gut feeling, and that he was about to ruin a friendship. He released her, his expression softening.

"Sorry, champ. I'm just worried about you and your new friend, that's all," he said, patting her head gently.

"Okay, let's get home before it gets dark. We don't want to worry your mom," he added with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood as they walked away from the school back home.

....

A hall, shrouded in an oppressive silence. Darkness enveloped the vast, where an imposing figure stood alone. A single beam of light pierced the gloom, illuminating the figure's form. They stood tall and straight, cloaked in an ethereal garment made of raven feathers. The feathers shimmered in the light, absorbing it to reflect an almost tangible blackness.

Surrounding the figure were five thrones, each occupied by a shadowy presence. The darkness cloaked their faces, concealing their identities, yet their auras exuded power and authority. The atmosphere was thick with tension, an unspoken urgency hanging in the air.

From one of the thrones, a woman’s voice rang out, her tone cutting through the silence like a blade.

"The child of prophecy, have you located them yet?" Her voice was serious, vibrating through the hall with an intensity that made the very walls seem to shiver.

"We are running out of time until the night of revelation begins," another figure grunted, frustration evident in his voice. "You've been on this search for decades, and still, the god-damn child remains unfound!" His fist slammed down on the armrest of his throne, the sound echoing ominously.

"Enough!"

Another figure hissed, silencing the outburst with a commanding shush. The air grew even heavier, if that were possible.

"Miss Hearth," a woman from one of the thrones spoke, her voice calm but laden with underlying menace, "understand the severity of this predicament. The fate of our world lies in that child, and it is your responsibility to find them."

The figure in the hall, Heathrine, slowly revealed herself. The cloak of feathers melted away, dissolving into shadow until she stood unencumbered, her eyes closed as if in meditation.

"With all due respect, Mistress Timor, I must emphasize the difficulty of identifying the child of prophecy in a school teeming with children. It is akin to finding a needle in a haystack," she replied, her voice composed and unwavering.

Mistress Timor's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, though her eyes remained hard.

"Your point is noted, Miss Hearth, but it does not absolve you of your duty. You must find the child and prevent the night of revelation from unfolding."

Another figure from the throne leaned forward, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

"Your mission is paramount. Failure is not an option," he intoned, his voice dripping with authority and finality.

Heathrine opened her eyes, their depths reflecting a steely resolve.

"Understood," she replied, bowing deeply. With a swift, fluid motion, she dissolved into shadow, disappearing from the hall as if she had never been there. The single beam of light extinguished, plunging the hall back into absolute darkness.

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image [https://i.postimg.cc/sX8C3PZK/OIG2.png]

Regna Vimezulte

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