The late afternoon sun cast a dim, filtered light over the advanced elemental manipulation field, a space lined with shimmering, technological rune-etched panels designed to contain the occasional misfire.
Today's session focused on precision and collaboration, separating students by ability type.
The Frost twins, with their ethereal white hair and ice-blue eyes, stood at the center of the ice and water group.
Their presence commanded attention, not just for their skill but for their near-mythical reputation.
To their left was Ed Palmer, despite being a noble he was a wiry boy with a mop of brown hair that stuck out at odd angles.
His nervousness was palpable as he fiddled with the ChronolQ strapped to his wrist, stealing glances at the twins.
Roland lingered near the edges of the training field, paired with students practicing less flashy techniques.
Though he had no abilities, at least none that he could show and not in the elemental exercises, people always wondered why he chose this course, they thought it had to do with symbols and weird disruptions that always happened around him.
Roland's gaze drifted to the Frost twins. The instructor's voice rang out, sharp and precise.
"Today's objective: synergy. Each group will combine their abilities to create intricate structures or combo attacks. Precision under pressure is key. Fail, and the consequences could be... messy."
Ed gulped audibly, adjusting his stance. The Frost twins, by contrast, stood poised, their hands glowing faintly with icy essence.
Ava, ever the perfectionist, moved first, crafting a spiral of frost that coiled into the air like a serpent.
Eva followed seamlessly, adding jagged edges to the spiral that glimmered like shards of diamond.
"Now, Palmer," the instructor barked.
Ed's hands trembled as he summoned two water blades, their edges wavering as they formed.
"Okay... okay," he muttered to himself, his focus wavering under the pressure. He attempted to weave his water into the Frost twins' ice, but the connection was erratic.
The water blades twisted, then splintered.
A sudden surge of essence sent them spiraling out of control.
The result was chaos—a wave of frost and water exploded outward, the force sending ice shards and razor-edged water jets streaking across the field.
The students scattered, shouts of alarm echoing through the training grounds.
Ava stepped back, her expression one of frustration rather than fear. But Eva reacted instantly, her hands glowing with concentrated ice essence.
With a single motion, she created a massive frost wall that absorbed the wave's force, the shards embedding harmlessly into its surface.
A surge of energy rippled through the air as her power overwhelmed the uncontrolled essence, freezing it in place.
When the chaos subsided, the field was silent. Eva stood at the center of the destruction, her shoulders heaving with exertion.
A faint sheen of sweat glistened on her brow, and her knees trembled as she struggled to remain upright.
The instructor, a stern man with a hawkish nose, stormed forward. "Palmer!" he barked, his voice thunderous. "What was that?"
Ed stammered, his face pale. "I-I didn't mean—"
"You didn't mean?" the instructor cut him off. "This isn't amateur hour! Your lack of focus could have injured your classmates—or worse!"
Murmurs spread through the gathered students, their voices a mixture of scorn and curiosity.
"Looks like the Frosts aren't as invincible as they think," someone whispered.
"Did you see how Eva struggled to fix that? Maybe the rumors are true about their family being cursed," another voice added.
Roland's ears pricked at the word "cursed," his gaze shifting back to Eva. She stood stiffly, her face blank but her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
Ava, meanwhile, ignored the whispers entirely, her expression icy and detached.
The session ended in uneasy silence, the instructor dismissing the class with a stern reminder about the importance of precision.
As the students filed out, Roland lingered, his thoughts swirling. The murmurs about the Frost twins' family stayed with him, the word "Abyss" resurfacing like an unwanted echo.
He found Eva sitting on a low stone wall near the edge of the training grounds, her head bowed as she fiddled with her ChronolQ.
She didn't look up as he approached, though her shoulders stiffened slightly.
"Rough session," Roland said carefully, stopping a few feet away.
Eva's fingers paused on the device, but she didn't reply. The tension in her posture was almost palpable.
"I mean, you handled it well," he added, shifting awkwardly. "That could've gone a lot worse without you."
"I don't need your pity," Eva said flatly, her voice cold enough to match her abilities.
Roland raised his hands in mock surrender. "Not pity. Just... observation."
For a moment, it seemed she might tell him to leave, but then she let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."
He took the silence that followed as permission to sit, lowering himself onto the wall beside her.
They sat in quiet for a while, the distant hum of training exercises filling the space between them.
Finally, Eva spoke, her voice quieter than before. "Do you know what it's like to have your entire existence defined by something you didn't do? By a legacy you didn't choose?"
Roland hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Not exactly," he admitted. "But I know what it's like to be judged for something you can't control."
Eva's lips twitched in what might have been a bitter smile. "Then maybe you understand more than I thought."
She turned the ChronolQ over in her hands, her gaze distant.
"The Frost family was once the pride of the Frostbound faction. My parents were legendary—celebrated warriors, brilliant tacticians. But it all fell apart after the Abyss."
Roland's curiosity sharpened at the mention of the Abyss. He leaned forward slightly, careful not to interrupt.
"They were part of a team sent to contain an Abyssal breach," Eva continued, her tone carefully controlled.
"But something went wrong. The breach wasn't just a crack between realms—it was... alive. It overwhelmed them. My parents barely escaped with their lives, but..." Her voice faltered, and she drew a shaky breath.
"It followed them back. Infected them. The Abyss left its mark, and they were never the same. The faction called them cursed. Traitors, even. They were cast out, their reputation destroyed. Then the Frost estate was met with an abyssal breach of its own."
Roland frowned, the pieces clicking together. "And you and Ava inherited that stigma."
Eva nodded, her jaw tightening. "After they died, we were sent to a military camp. A fresh start, they said. But there's no escaping it. The whispers, the looks—it's always there."
Her voice broke on the last word, and she quickly turned away, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Roland hesitated, unsure if she would welcome his words or push him away again. "You're not your parents," he said finally.
"Whatever happened, whatever people say—it doesn't define you."
Eva let out a bitter laugh. "Spoken like someone who hasn't lived it. Trust me, Kuiper, some things are better left buried."
She stood abruptly, brushing off her military uniform. "Thanks for the talk, but I have work to do."
Before he could respond, she walked away, her beautiful figure disappearing into the fading light.
Roland remained on the wall, staring after her. His mind churned with questions, but one thought stood out above the rest: the Frost twins were far more complicated than he had realized.
The burden they carried wasn't just heavy—it was suffocating.
He glanced down at his own ChronolQ, the faint glow of its interface reminding him of his legacy, his own secrets.
Whatever connection the Frost family had to the Abyss, it felt closer than ever, as if the shadows around him were listening.
For now, Roland could only resolve to learn more—and to prove, in his own way, that no legacy or path was unchangeable.