Autumn made her way home after studying, The Vale Manor stood solemnly atop the frost-covered hill, a sentinel overlooking the town of Frosthaven. Its towering silhouette was framed by skeletal trees, their branches coated with glistening ice that cracked under the weight of winter. Autumn paused at the iron gate, her breath fogging in the icy air. The manor loomed ahead, its once-grand stone facade now weathered and lined with creeping frost. A thin veil of snow blanketed the tiled roof, and the large, arched windows reflected the pale glow of the moonlight. The frozen garden, tangled with thorny bushes and abandoned flowerbeds, whispered of a forgotten vibrance long buried beneath layers of cold and time.
As she stepped inside, the chill of the evening clung to her, even as the warmth of the manor tried to envelop her. The scent of burning wood wafted faintly from the fireplace in the distant living room, but it couldn't quite reach her. Her shoes clicked softly against the polished wooden floor as she took in the familiar yet unwelcoming sight of the house. The entry hall was grand but lifeless, its high ceilings and chandelier casting shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. The walls were adorned with portraits of long-deceased ancestors, their cold gazes following her every move.
She passed through the heavy oak door into the dining room, where her parents and her sister sat at the long mahogany table, their backs straight, their movements meticulous. The air was thick with an almost palpable silence, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain plates. Her mother glanced up briefly, offering a small, perfunctory smile before returning to her meal. Her father didn't look up at all, his focus fixed on cutting his food with precision.
The dining room, like the rest of the manor, was steeped in an austere elegance—rich drapes, ornate candelabras, and a large window that framed the icy night sky. Yet, despite the physical warmth of the room, it felt cold, as though the frost from outside had seeped into the walls. The fire in the hearth burned quietly, its embers glowing faintly, but it was no match for the chill of the atmosphere between the occupants.
Autumn stood for a moment, watching them, feeling both a part of this scene and utterly detached from it. The weight of the day's exhaustion pressed heavily on her, yet she forced herself to sit, to play her role in this cold, distant performance. Her parents' conversation was minimal, practical, devoid of warmth, and she responded in kind, her words carefully chosen, her tone measured.
For Autumn, she felt like she was in a horror movie, a haunted, eerie, emotionless house, her parents and sister dressed in black French-style clothes, while she kept her traditional school uniform, she seemed so detached from them, she doubted that the blood that brought them together could mean anything at all.
The manor was her home, but it had never felt like a sanctuary. It was a monument to tradition and expectations, a place where perfection was a currency, and affection was always weighed and measured. As she sat there under the dim glow of the chandelier, her parents' voices a faint murmur in the background, Autumn felt the familiar ache of solitude that always seemed to greet her within these walls.
In front of Autumn at the table, sat a familiar ghost - her sister, Evangeline Vale, a year younger than her. She could not speak and used sign language, although in this large house no one understood her at all. Their looks were full of questions and unanswered inquiries. The maid came and laid out food for Autumn. She had to live like a beloved princess, but she was like the queen of a snow castle.
Her mother sighed as she looked at her father, "When are we going to leave this cold, dirty city? I can't even dress comfortably here."
Then she looked at Autumn, "Do the girls at your school wear the same uniform? My friend's daughter is with you and she looks much better than you. She was wearing special accessories from France and an Earrings with her name engraved on it." Autumn's mother was a fashionista, she had short black hair and looked younger than her age.
Autumn spoke calmly as she cut a slice of steak, "Earrings are forbidden in school uniform, also this is the only proper way to-" Her mother slammed the table making Autumn stop talking, "What are you talking about dear? Am I asking too much of you? I want you to look proper!!! You don't look like a Vale nor a Beauvoir! You're disappointing your ancestors!!"
Autumn Father, Raphaël Vale put down the cutlery, everyone fell silent, even the sound of the rain almost died down, and he spoke in a southern accent,
"Céline Beauvoir, What on earth are you saying in front of our children? Autumn wears the traditional school uniform and that's what she's supposed to do. Don't forget where you are now. You're in frostbitten, not Paris. Here you have to live like one of our citizens, not a young lady from France. You have to control yourself."
The mother sighed and got up from the dining table. The father slammed his hand on the table, making everyone shiver. "What do we say when we leave the dining table, dear?"
She was angry but quickly came to terms with reality, she said, "Let the frost guide you," and blew out the candle that was in front of her plate, adjusted her chair, and left.
Autumn also stood up, so her sister quickly stood up. They put their hands on their hearts and bowed a little, then blew out the candles, put their chairs down, and left. Autumn said to her father, "Let the frost guide you" He nodded at her.
In the city there were many traditions that its people had preserved for hundreds of years. The city was very proud of its traditions, which seemed strange to others. Among the most important table traditions were several things that had to be done.
First, when finishing eating, the person places his hand on his heart and bows lightly to the people sitting before taking a step back, as a sign of respect.
Second, each person, upon leaving the table, extinguishes a candle or small lamp placed in front of him as a symbol of the end of his role in the meal and as an expression of gratitude for the food. If the light remains on, this is considered an insult or a sign of disapproval.
Thirdly, they may have a common
farewell phrase that is said when leaving, such as: "Let the frost guide you," which is a call for peace and quiet. It is used when saying goodbye between relatives and friends, when something ends, or when someone leaves.
Finally, the person is expected to return the chair to its designated position before leaving, as a symbol of order and harmony in the community.
Autumn felt how ridiculous the traditions that this cold mansion held onto were, traditions that were gone, this was a resentfully traditional family. Autumn thought that even the ghosts they were desperately trying to keep away by clinging to tradition wouldn't want to come here anyway.
as Autumn walks, we see a new place, a place felt like the very heartbeat of the school, with wide, winding stairs connecting multiple floors, each level opening up to the one below, creating a sense of openness that made the building feel alive. The first floor stood apart from the rest, isolated and distinct, like a world of its own. From any level, you could clearly see the stone flooring of the first floor, almost as if the building was constantly reminding you of its roots.
The walls were adorned with touches of old red brick, warm tones softening the coldness of the outside air. Natural light poured through the large windows that stretched across the walls, making the space feel timeless, glowing with a unique charm.
The floors were polished, each step leaving a light echo that harmonized with the movement of the students. The spiral stairs were fitted with black wrought-iron railings, elegantly designed with simple engravings that gave the space a classic touch, while the dark wood steps added warmth and a sense of grandeur.
On one of the middle steps, Autumn walked beside her friend Marceline, whose quiet demeanor matched her calm pace. Their steps were in sync, a clear sign of their close friendship. Alongside them was a third girl, Juliette Renoir, a lively and spirited friend of Autumn's. Her laughter filled the space, lightening the atmosphere and offering a contrast to the crisp air creeping from outside.
Autumn glanced down at the first floor from where she stood, a strange sense of detachment filling her. There was something uniquely captivating about the open design of the building. It felt as though everything here was breathing slowly, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal its secrets. Outside, the trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fallen leaves seeming to race to the ground, in harmony with the autumn vibe that hung in the air.
The scene was filled with the bustle of students coming and going, yet in the middle of it all, Autumn and her friends seemed to exist in their own little world. Their pace was slower, their smiles exchanged in a quiet understanding, and their conversation was soft, a delicate contrast to the noise around them. When they reached the first floor, Juliette said with a smile, "Unfortunately, I heard about an exclusive scene that happened between you and that new girl. Isn't there a chance I can transfer to your class?"
Marceline replied, "Maybe you need to study a little, dear."
Juliette looked at her with contempt, "Whore." Marceline replied in French, "Thank you, dear."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, August appeared and smiled at Autumn. Juliette took a few steps back to get a better view. August laughed innocently, her hands behind her and said, "Sorry about last time, I wanted to do you something."
Autumn looked uninterested, "What?" She said in a cold tone, while the majority of the school was watching from every floor, as it seemed like some kind of play was happening, Evangeline also stood watching her sister and this new girl who had appeared to set this cold city on fire.
August extended the daffodil to Autumn, with an optimistic smile, while Autumn looked at her and the flower with surprise and confusion, dramatic music started in the minds of everyone present, Juliette gasped in shock, "Damn," Marceline shook her head, "This crazy idiot.."
Autumn looked at Juliette and Marceline. Marceline stepped forward and grabbed daffodil roughly, "What are you doing, dear? Is this an apology or a threat?"
August took a few steps back, "Excuse me?"
Chloe and Izzy came late, they looked at the situation from afar and then at each other, it seemed like they were trying to find quick solutions but they lost hope and ran to August, Chloe said in distress, "Were you going to put up with August again?"
"Behave with your b*tch instead of bothering us," Marceline said.
August, "I really don't understand what's happening." August started crying, leaving the demon trio confused.
"Let me tell you then," said Juliette, "that we girls give flowers with hidden meanings, and we exchange them, and the first rule is never to give a flower to a person you don't know, especially not a flower with an insulting meaning."
Autumn took the flower from Marceline's hand, "What a beautiful flower." She crushed it in her hands and stomped on it as she walked away, leaving August
to her own private play.
She stood in the middle, looking at the onlookers and her watch, "Classes start in ten minutes, go to your classes, now." Everyone hesitantly started to leave, Autumn turned around in the picturesque scene and looked at August who turned to look at her.
Autumn thought, "It's funny, isn't it? How two people can stand in the same room, breathe the same air, but feel like they're galaxies apart."