The first light of dawn crept over Frostholm, slow and deliberate, turning the snowbound village into a canvas of pale gold and silver. Smoke drifted lazily from a handful of chimneys, curling into the crisp air as if the houses themselves were exhaling after a long, harrowing night. The ground still bore the scars of the previous day’s attack — scattered debris half-buried under a blanket of frost, claw marks gouged into wooden fences — yet this morning felt… softer. The kind of quiet that made it hard to believe that danger had lurked here only hours ago.

Star stood with Hilda just beyond the chapel steps, her boots crunching lightly in the snow. Her breath came out in small clouds that quickly dissolved into the cold air. The village was still, save for the distant call of a morning bird and the faint crackle of firewood from within the homes. For the first time since she arrived in Frostholm, there was no shouting, no clash of steel — only stillness.

And yet, Star’s heart refused to be still. The memory of the attack still throbbed in her mind like a fresh bruise, and the weight of the journey ahead pressed down on her shoulders. As the light grew stronger and stretched over the horizon, she couldn’t help but wonder what awaited them on Asgard Peak — and whether they were truly ready to face it.

“Siegfried? You mean the tall, dark-haired boy who’s always at your side?”

Star nodded, her lips curling into a faint smile.

“Yes. We've known each other since we were children. The first time we met… I was being attacked by a Bergtroll in Blessing Forest. He shielded me by screaming so loudly they ran off.”

Hilda let out a soft, melodic laugh, the kind that warmed the cold morning air.

“Oh Star… do you like him?”

A flush bloomed across Star’s cheeks, her voice faltering.

“L-Like him? I—uh…”

Hilda laughed, full and free.

“Hahaha! You do like him! Don’t worry, dear. You still have time. One day, I’m sure you’ll win his heart.”

Star turned away, trying to hide her blush, but a gentle smile lingered on her lips. Her thoughts drifted to Siegfried, to the warmth in his eyes and the shield he always held for her. Her gaze wandered toward the horizon, where the first light of dawn unfurled across the sky like a golden ribbon. The snow-covered village shimmered under the sun’s touch, glowing with a warmth that defied the bitter cold.

But the moment of stillness passed.

The chapel doors creaked open, and Kevin emerged with his companions. Siegfried. Klara. Friedrich. All stood with their climbing gear slung across their backs, their expressions firm, their steps ready.

“Let’s move,” Kevin called, his voice breaking through the hush of morning like a spark against frost.

Star gripped the hilt of her sword, her resolve burning bright.

Together, they marched toward the towering silhouette of Asgard Peak —

where Boreas awaited.

Where trials loomed.

And where, perhaps, the truths buried in the frost would finally come to light.

Snow crunched beneath their boots as they left the village behind, the wind tugging at cloaks and hair like invisible hands urging them forward. The sun climbed higher, spilling gold across the frozen fields, and Asgard Peak loomed ever larger on the horizon — sharp, unforgiving, and impossibly far.

Star’s hand brushed against the hilt of her sword, steadying herself. Whatever awaited them — Boreas’s judgment, the Abyss, or something far worse — they would face it together.

And with that thought, she took her first step toward the mountain that might change everything.