CH 3: The One Born Beneath The Frozen Heavens.
Inside a large carriage, Isla sat comfortably by the window, swinging a wooden stick over and over. Each motion was deliberate, her expression blank yet oddly focused.
“Sky Splitter,” she said softly.
“Sky Splitter.”
“Sky Splitter.”
She swung again and again, her white hair swaying slightly with every movement.
Valerica sat across from her, sweating nervously as Grand Saintess Cateleya’s deadpan stare locked onto her for 30 minutes now.
“Sigh… So,” Cateleya finally began, her tone calm but sharp, “the reason I saw your technique from where I was sitting… is because you demonstrated it to Isla, didn’t you?”
Valerica forced an awkward laugh. “Ahaha… well, I was just... uh... trying to make a good impression, you know, kids.” She discreetly nudged Pryce’s leg with her boot, hoping he’d help her out. But Pryce just turned his head toward the window, pretending not to hear.
“Unbelievable,” Cateleya muttered. “And you, Pryce, you were there too. That makes you an accomplice.”
“What!? Why am I being scolded?” Pryce asked, frowning.
“You saw her perform a stance and did nothing to stop her,” Cateleya replied sternly. “We are Saints. We do not use our powers for entertainment.”
Both Valerica and Pryce groaned in unison, slumping in their seats.
Meanwhile, Isla continued swinging her stick, completely oblivious to the tension inside the carriage.
“Sky Splitter,” she murmured again, her eyes still blank but her focus unwavering.
Cateleya sighed, rubbing her temples. “Good grief… what have I gotten myself into? This child is only eight years old… The village elder informed me,” Cateleya said softly, gently patting Isla’s head.
“T-then I guess the other two are also eight?” Valerica asked quickly, clearly trying to steer the topic away from her earlier scolding.
“Yes,” Cateleya replied with a nod. “According to the prophecy, the three were born at the same time, the same hour, the same minute, and the same second.”
Pryce leaned back against his seat, crossing his arms. “I wonder if Accla’s visit to the Frozen Silver Kingdom in the north has borne fruit.”
“Yeah,” Valerica added, glancing out the window. “And Sayuri’s journey back to her homeland in the far east… It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? One of the prophesied children being born in her own kingdom. From what the prophet said, she already knew who the child was the moment she heard the description.”
Cateleya’s eyes softened as she looked at Isla, who was still quietly whispering ‘Sky Splitter’ while swinging her stick. “That’s right…” she murmured. “Isla, the child born beneath the silent sky.”
Her gaze turned distant, her voice lowering to a tone of reverence as if recalling a verse from an ancient scripture. “And the other two…” she trailed off, “One was born in the eternal frost under a frozen heaven in the north, where even the skies freeze, and the stars shatter like glass. The other was born in the eastern lands, where a thousand flowers bloomed the moment, she drew her first breath, her cry said to have stirred spring itself.”
Cateleya closed her eyes. “Three children… born under different heavens yet tied by the same fate.” She slowly opened her eyes, then look outside the window. “When the sky falls silent, the frost awakens, and flowers bloom once more, hope shall be reborn.”
In the cold morning air of the North, snow fell gently from the sky, blanketing the forest in white silence. Amid the stillness, two figures moved through the frost-covered woods.
A young girl with hair as blue as glacier ice and eyes just as bold danced through the snow, her rapier slicing cleanly through the air. With precise, graceful strikes, she brought down massive frost bears one after another.
“Is this enough, Master Accla?” asked Sylveria Silver, the firstborn princess of the Silver Royal Family. Her voice was calm, composed, her expression unshaken despite the carnage around her.
“Y-yes, Princess.” Accla stammered, still in disbelief. She had witnessed many prodigies in her life, but none like this. Sylveria was only eight years old, yet she felled beasts that even seasoned adventurers feared to face.
Her movements were elegant, her decisions precise, every step and strike measured like a dance choreographed by instinct itself. And her aura along with that cold, pure blue mana surrounding her, which was deeper, more pure, more chilling than ordinary blue mana. It made even Accla, the Rapier Saint, feel uneasy.
When she first arrived at the Silver Kingdom, Accla had been skeptical of the king’s claim. The prophecy spoke of a child born beneath the northern frost, but she thought it impossible that such a being would also be royal blood. Yet, after seeing Sylveria with her own eyes, there could be no doubt.
Sylveria wasn’t merely gifted, she was extraordinary. Her mind was sharp, her demeanor noble and poised. She excelled in combat, strategy, politics, art, and even magic. To many adults in the court, she was both admired and feared, a child too brilliant for her age. But to Sylveria, it was simply... 'fun.'
“Shall we return to the castle and prepare for departure?” Accla asked gently, sheathing her rapier.
“Yes,” Sylveria replied, brushing snow from her shoulder. “I’ve made you wait three months just to train me. I should not delay you any longer.”
Accla smiled faintly, bowing her head. “No, Princess. It is I who should be grateful. To teach someone like you is the greatest honor of my life.”
Together, they walked through the falling snow, leaving behind a trail of white and red, a silent testament to the strength of the child born beneath the frozen heavens.
