Emilia groaned, but then closed her mouth. The air was cold and painful, cutting her throat and reaching into her lungs like a harbinger of death making her every breath a struggle.
'My fingertips are gone…' Emilia said, noting that she did not feel her fingertips anymore while the remaining extent of her fingers shook from the frost.
Despite that, she never let go of the frozen shovel. Moving forward once, she pummeled away a stack of snow to the side. Moving forward twice, she cracked the thin vertical sheet of ice in front of her.
She halted with a thud. In front of her was not malleable snow, but an overgrown wall of ice. It was where the river used to be, now frozen in the eternal darkness and cold of the White Months.
Emilia didn't hesitate and crashed her shovel into the ice. With a reverberating sound, her tool sunk a few inches into the ice and stopped all movement.
Frowning, Emilia gripped her shovel tighter and pulled it towards herself.
"Ughh!" Even with the added strength from her back and lower body, the shovel did not budge from its place.
'No way…' And the doctor's cottage was only a few dozen steps beyond the river…
"Move!" She yanked the shovel again. No result.
Her face was already so pale it couldn't grow any grayer. If she had a little bit more strength, she could have taken it out. Like a test of heroics, she had to prove herself by pulling the sword(shovel) out of the ancient rock(ice).
And she failed.
Her brain pounded within her head, as if it tried to escape her skull. Emilia tugged her forehead and slammed her eyelids shut. "I used too much mana…"
Oh, so confidently she had stated to the family that she would open a passage through death and into life.
Oh, so confidently she had failed. A mother was waiting behind, putting her hopes in a failing girl to save her dying child.
The dying child was a genius, a boy with intellect beyond his age. If not a prodigal mage, he would become a ground-breaking scholar.
She once thought she was the chosen one, wielding the power of the supernatural within the mundane countryside. As it turned out, she was no chosen one, and her failures would perhaps result in the death of such a prodigy.
It was then that her eyelids were no longer faced with darkness. When she opened her eyes, she gasped. The thick clouds that covered the sky drifted away, revealing waves of green dancing around in the twilight.
Behind her, the sound of a clacking resounded. Those were the gates of the Agosto household. "Lady Alice and Victor have come out."
Emilia chuckled. She bit down one of her fingertips and with a swift motion, she threw the thin glove to the side.
Her hand was as white as the snow around her. In the frigid surroundings, they would lose feeling and motor function if she didn't act hastily enough.
And hastily enough she acted. With her newfound dexterity and mana conduction, her hands touched the crevice wherein she stuck her shovel. Chanting and visualizing the spell formula within her mind, she summoned forth the forces of magic.
A wave of warmth washed over her hand and into the crevice. Slowly melting away the ice and her mana supplies, her other hand pulled away the shovel in a flash.
Moving forward once, she attacked the topmost layer of ice with her shovel. Moving forward twice, she used her other hand to melt the ice. This time, she didn't halt.
Using this, she slowly eroded the ice away. In one spot of her vision, she noticed a corner of the ice sheet that wasn't as opaque as the rest. Struggling through her headache and decaying mobility, she slammed her shovel into the corner.
With a crack, the ice came crashing down.
"Emilia."
"My lady? I've opened the path. Go on ahead, the doctor's cottage is the one with the lights on."
"You've done great, Emilia. Thank you very much, I will never forget this."
Emilia smiled and turned around. Suddenly, a warm silhouette took her into an embrace and locked warm, gloven hands into her numb fingers.
"Let's go."
Supporting the attendant with a hand and her child with another, the two advanced through the ice and the snow.
…
On the front porch of their destination, Emilia collapsed onto the ground. A short silhouette came peering through the lit glass tiles of the wooden door.
"Benedicta, what was that sound?" A man's voice came from beyond the door.
"Who's there?!"
"Mister, I am Alice Benevita of the Agosto estate. My son is dying of a fever – I plead with you, mister: save my child! He's the only one I've got left!"
A tall shadow stood behind the door.
"Are you kidding me? It's the middle of Nivosia, we're in the White Months. No soul roams the streets but malevolent spirits and demons. I'm not opening this door. Go away."
Alice convulsed and retorted, "You can't! I have no way to prove it to you; that I'm not a malevolent spirit. But I have a dying child here and a freezing girl. You've sworn an oath to Nativesia before becoming a doctor, no? You can't leave us here! You cannot!"
She knocked on the door in despair.
Only silence befell them.
"I'm a secular doctor. I've sworn my discipline to no god."
"…"
"I'll open the door."
The door opened, and Alice was about to thank the doctor. However, a rifle took her at gunpoint.
Alice stood still.
A tall, stern man examined them. Thick, dark eyebrows and a pair of round glasses. Seeing the sprawled Emilia and the blanketed Victor, the man put down his rifle and said, "I should have realized I signed away my freedom when I became a doctor."
"Come in."
"THANK YOU!"
"Maria, can you help the collapsed woman inside?" The doctor beckoned to a long-haired woman, seemingly an attendant of his.
"Of course, master."
Alice entered the warm home and followed the doctor.
"I'm Marius. It's an honor to be visited by an Agosto anytime – anytime but in winter, please."
Alice showed no shame. "You will be rewarded handsomely if you save my child."
"You aristocrats…always thinking you can do as you please as long as you give us enough money."
Marius rubbed his glabella and halted before a small door, letting Alice enter first. The room was the doctor's workplace. Reeking of sharp herb and medicinal alcohol, a few beds and surgical equipment were the room's only austere decoration.
"What's wrong with the child?" Marius asked as he disrobed the blankets off of Victor. Looking away for a second, he ordered, "Benedicta! Go back to your room!"
Alice turned around, seeing a short child peeking through the door's crevice. However, the child stepped back and disappeared at the man's notice.
"A fever. A high fever appeared with no notice nor observable cause. Not even divine magic could bring it down."
Marius furrowed his brows and looked over the flushed Victor. "I'll examine your child. Could you leave for a second? I can't work with people around me."
Alice grimaced and nodded. Leaving the room, she saw the attendant bringing over Emilia and opened the door for her.
Anxiously awaiting the doctor's calling, Alice prayed – this time not to the Four Gods, but to herself and the doctor.
A few minutes later, the doctor called her over, a trace of curiosity in his voice. The mother bolted inside.
Marius stared at her, removing his glasses and wiping them with a handkerchief. "Your child is completely fine – quite healthy, if I say so myself," He stated.
"What? But that's not possible! Look at him, my child, this fever is not-
"Your child is not feverish due to any sickness or health concern. I can't do anything about it – Though I have to ask: do you think your child could be cursed?"
"I-I gave birth to him a day before winter."
"That's that then. It's of your own bad decisions that your child is this way – couldn't you have fornicated with your husband sooner?!"
Words hit harder than stones. Alice stuttered, not forming any coherent sentences. It was her fault, wasn't it? Even the doctor said so…
"Doctor, you're being…blurgh…too harsh on my lady. I'm no mage, but what if Victor is sick from a magical source?"
Everyone turned to look at Emilia. Owing an explanation to everyone, she added, "Every time I use my magic around Victor, it never works…and…"
Her face squinted with guilt, "He fell sick when I tried to demonstrate my magic earlier."
Alice exclaimed, "Yes! Yes! I remember…Doctor, do you think my child is an Albian-
"No."
Marius shut her off immediately. Albians were the children cursed by the God of the White Months, Antisol. Being the only humans with no mana, they were a source of superstition and terror.
Marius' gaze darkened. He turned to his attendant, "Maria, please bring me a season compass."
…
The woman returned with a watch-looking object in her hand. The doctor retrieved the compass and hovered it around Victor.
At first, the compass functioned normally, its hand pointing towards a frosty illustration. However, the hands began acting erratic, shaking as if undecided. Soon, its movement slowed down until it met gravity and circled down.
"Your child is no Albian. If anything, quite the opposite. I have to say, I'm shocked. Indeed – your child has sucked in all of the mana from within the stable spell formula inside this compass."
Waving around the compass as if it was a children's toy, the doctor chuckled and threw it away.
"Work conquers all, for it was a philosophy Emilia Rutter, the hero's attendant in his early life, knew very well. With talent like any other and no manner in which to access schooling, the plebeian woman knew she had not much to rely on but her perseverance and grit to become a craftswoman in the magic fields, wherein hard work and practice triumphed over innate talent. In retrospect, to accomplish such a feat would be worthy of reaching the stars." - Didiet Erasmus, Searching for the Lost Times of Victor Agosto, Volume 1.