It's the day of our travel for Glacierbrook, I had a lot of emotions bottled up inside of me, but one thing for sure I was nervous and the expectations of me when I see him again. I am on my way to the meeting up station and a bunch of carriages are parked. Some officials will be protecting our carriages towards Glacierbrook since it's prone to bandits. 
I spotted my team, Arlo, Arthur and Caden. The others had familiar faces yet I didn't know their names yet. Arlo yawned and forced a smile when he saw me. 
“Good morning, Zai” he yawned, smiling, I smiled back. 
“Good morning,” I greeted back. 
“Ready for the fun, snowball?” Caden asked, smirking. 
“Don't call me that” I corrected. 
“Why not, it's cute,” Caden chuckles.
I was about to respond when I caught sight of Thorne from the corner of my eye. He was walking toward us.
My chest tightened. He looked exhausted—his face pale, dark circles shadowing his eyes. Is he even getting enough sleep?
Our eyes met for a brief second. I swallowed, but before I could say anything, he turned away, his expression unreadable, as if I were just another stranger.
“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice calm and distant.
Caden stiffened beside me, but Thorne ignored him.
“We have multiple carriages prepared,” Thorne continued, his tone businesslike. “I’ve arranged for two to take us to the village. Blackwell’s team will ensure our safety along the way.”
He listed off names, assigning seats, keeping everything professional. I forced myself to nod, accepting the reality of this new, cold distance between us.
I just had to bear with it.
I joined Caden, Arlo, and Arthur in the carriage. Thorne ended up with us since the other one was full—he didn’t have a choice but to sit near the door.
I took the seat by the window, doing my best not to glance at him, trying not to let the awkwardness settle in.
“Glacierbrook Village will take us hours,” Arlo said, stretching his arms. “What about some stories to pass the time?”
“I'm okay with it,” Arthur said, smiling.
“Yeah, that could work,” Caden replied.
“Zai?” Arthur turned to me, waiting.
“I’ll just listen,” I said with a small smile.
“You know, many believe this village is dangerous because it was cursed,” Arlo said in his best spooky voice, wiggling his fingers for extra effect.
Caden snorted. “What do you mean by that? The only danger here is your storytelling.”
“I’m serious!” Arlo huffed. “Glacierbrook wasn’t always chaotic. It was peaceful—until the winter fairy.”
Arthur raised a brow. “Winter fairy? Who told you that? Your grandma?”
Caden burst out laughing.
“I’m serious, guys! They say she was as white as snow, like winter itself belonged to her,” Arlo continued, completely ignoring them. “She cursed the land, burning the trees in the north of the village!”
Arthur smirked. “So, you’re telling me… a fairy of winter decided to burn trees? Sounds legit.”
Caden wiped a tear from his eye. “Maybe she just got tired of the cold and wanted a little bonfire.”
Arlo groaned. “You guys suck at scary stories.”
Arthur leaned back against the carriage wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright, since Arlo here clearly failed at scaring us, let me tell you a real Glacierbrook tale.”
The others settled in, and even Caden looked interested. Thorne, of course, remained unmoved, eyes closed, pretending to nap.
Arthur lowered his voice dramatically. “A long time ago, before Glacierbrook became the village we know, it was nothing but a frozen wasteland. People who traveled there never returned. Some said it was the cold. Others… said it was something else.”
He glanced around, letting the tension build before continuing.
“There was a man—let’s call him Rowan. He was a traveler, stubborn as hell, and didn’t believe in curses. When he heard the stories, he laughed. ‘Ghosts? Fairies? Curses?’ he said. ‘Ridiculous.’” Arthur mimicked a deep, mocking voice, making Caden snicker.
“But one night, as Rowan set up camp near the northern woods, he saw something. A woman, standing in the snow, watching him. She was pale—too pale. Her hair was long, flowing like mist, and her eyes…” Arthur trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. “Her eyes glowed like ice under the moonlight.”
Arlo shifted uncomfortably.
“Rowan, being an absolute genius, decided to approach. ‘Hey, lady, you lost?’” Arthur deepened his voice again. “‘It’s freezing out here. You should—’”
Arthur suddenly clapped his hands together, making Arlo and Caden jump.
“Bam! She disappeared! Just gone—like she was never there. But the moment he turned back to his camp… there she was. Closer.”
Caden muttered, “Oh, hell no.”
Arthur grinned but kept going. “Rowan ran. He ran so fast he didn’t even realize he was heading deeper into the forest. And then—he tripped. Face-first into the snow.”
“Deserved,” Arlo mumbled.
Arthur smirked. “When he looked up… she was right in front of him. She leaned down, whispered something in his ear, and poof—he blacked out.”
Caden raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Arthur shrugged. “And when he woke up, he was home. Safe. But every year, on the same night, he’d wake up freezing, like the cold itself was calling him back.”
Arlo shivered. “That’s messed up.”
Caden laughed. “Moral of the story: don’t talk to creepy women standing alone in the snow.”
Arthur grinned. “Exactly.”
From the corner of the carriage, Thorne muttered, “Or just don’t be an idiot.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“Anything creepy you want to share, Professor?” Arthur asked.
“I have some, but I’m quite tired,” Thorne said flatly.
I didn’t look at him. I kept my gaze fixed outside the window.
“It’ll fade if you tell us one,” Arthur grinned.
Thorne let out a slow sigh, tilting his head back against the carriage wall. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t bother, but then, in a quiet, steady voice, he spoke.
“There’s a story I heard once,” he began. “It’s not a legend, not a fairy tale. Just something that happened… a long time ago.”
The carriage fell silent. Even Arthur leaned in slightly.
“There was a man,” Thorne continued, his tone unreadable. “He had everything—a home, a purpose… someone he cherished.”
I felt my fingers twitch, but I didn’t look at him. I kept my gaze fixed outside the window, my heartbeat betraying me.
“But one day, everything was taken from him,” Thorne went on. “Not by war, not by disaster… but by a mistake. A misunderstanding so twisted that even the truth couldn’t fix it.”
The air in the carriage felt heavier.
“This man… he was angry. At himself, at the world, at the person he once cherished. He told himself it was easier that way—that if he buried everything deep enough, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”
I swallowed.
“But no matter how much time passed,” Thorne said, his voice quieter now, “he would always find himself looking back. Wondering if things could have been different. If he had just… reached out instead of pushing away.”
A long pause followed.
Caden, never one to sit in silence for long, cleared his throat. “That’s… depressing.”
Arthur chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, man. Not exactly bedtime story material.”
Thorne simply shrugged. “You asked for a story.”
I dared a glance at him. His expression was unreadable, his eyes still closed as if the story meant nothing.
But I knew better.
Few hours had passed and I could feel the cold wind in my skin, and in the distance there's snow filling up the hill. 
“Wear your coats, everyone,” Thorne said. I slipped into my coats, as Arlo and Arthur made fun of each other because of their coat’s design. 
Few minutes later I noticed that the foreground is completely covered in a layer of snow, which appears fairly smooth and undisturbed in some areas. The snow clings to the branches and needles, giving them a frosted appearance. A few birch trees with snow and bare branches, are interspersed among the evergreens. The trees are at various heights and create a natural barrier along the path.
We're close… 
The sight was breathtaking, yet there was an undeniable heaviness in the air. Glacierbrook was beautiful, almost picturesque, but something about it felt… frozen in time. Like the snow wasn’t just covering the village—it was preserving something beneath it.
The carriage slowed as we entered the heart of the village. The streets were narrow, lined with old stone paths that had been cleared of snow just enough for people to walk through. Villagers wrapped in thick coats bustled about, some carrying firewood, others tending to their market stalls selling winter produce, cured meats, and woolen goods.
Arlo shifted against Arthur’s shoulder, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep. Arthur groaned, nudging him. “Quit drooling on me.”
Caden smirked. “Told you to sit next to the window, but noooo—‘Arthur, let’s sit together, it’ll be fun,’” he mimicked Arlo dramatically.
Arlo grumbled but didn’t fully wake up.
Meanwhile, Thorne remained quiet, his gaze fixed outside, unreadable as always. The villagers who noticed our carriage whispered among themselves. Some looked curious, others cautious. I couldn’t tell if it was because of us—or him.
As we neared the central square, the carriage came to a full stop. A knight approached, giving Thorne a respectful nod before speaking.
“Welcome to Glacierbrook, Doctor Thorne.”
The carriage had opened, and Thorne went out. We followed as the others stepped down. I adjusted my hood, pulling it over my head. As we walked, I could feel the villagers' stares, their gazes heavy, as if they had never seen outsiders before.
Thorne approached a man wearing a black leather coat. He looked to be in his 60s—tall, with a professional demeanor.
“These are my students. We will be the ones providing medical help to those in need,” Thorne said, gesturing for us to come forward.
I stayed behind Caden, letting him step ahead as Thorne shook the man’s hand. A strange weight settled in my chest, but I shook it off when Caden moved aside.
“Hello, I am—”
Before I could finish, a sudden gust of wind blew past, yanking my hood off.
The man's eyes widened.
Everything seemed to freeze. The villagers stopped, their gazes locking onto me. The air felt thick with something unspoken.
“It’s a wretch; it will curse our village again!” someone shouted as the villagers panicked.
“She will curse us!” another yelled.
“Run!”
“Get away from our village!”
Before I could respond, something hit my head. A sharp pain spread through me. I staggered slightly, my vision blurring for a moment. I looked down and saw a small stone, now stained with blood. The soldiers immediately moved to calm the crowd, forming a protective barrier around me.
“Zaira!” Arlo panicked.
I touched my head—and there it was. Blood.
“Enough!” the man behind me yelled.
“How dare you hurt our visitors? You should be ashamed of yourselves! They are not monsters; they are here to help!” he said.
“I don’t need the help of the winter fairy who cursed our land! She is a bad omen!” another spat.
“There are no fairies! If you dare lay a hand on our visitors again, you will be punished!”
“Caden, take Zaira to the medical area,” Thorne said in a cold voice. He usually stepped in to protect me when someone tried to hurt me, but now…
“I will, professor.”
Caden was already by my side before I could react, his grip firm but careful as he guided me away from the chaos. The villagers still murmured among themselves, their frightened whispers piercing through the cold air.
“Come on, let’s get you checked,” Caden muttered
A few hours later, the crowd had finally calmed down. I was alone in the students' cabin. Though there were four beds in total, I had chosen to stay alone in the room. There were five female students, but I preferred the solitude. The men’s cabin was located in the other corridor.
I sat at the edge of my bed, bandages wrapped around my head. The wound wasn’t deep—just a small one—but it still ached, and I knew I had to watch for any symptoms.
Someone knocked on my door and I slowly opened it, it was just a peak. It was Caden. 
“Hey, you doing fine right there?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said.
“The village chief invited us to have dinner with them. He really wants to see what you've been doing. Care to join us?” he asked.
“You’re safe since it’ll be at his house, and the soldiers will be there,” he added.
I sighed, then nodded. “Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Later on, I found myself in the carriage with my friends—and Thorne, silent as usual. It still hurt that he didn’t seem to care anymore. He stared out the window, lost in thought, while I tried not to let it bother me.
In the distance, I spotted a wooden log cabin nestled in the snowy landscape. The large windows glowed warmly from within, casting a soft light against the dusk.
When we arrived, a few people dressed in maid uniforms welcomed us inside. At the entrance stood the Village Chief, Giovanni Maurice, tall and dignified, accompanied by a woman beside him. Her hair was neatly tied in a bun, adorned with delicate flower pins, and she wore a traditional Glacierbrook dress.
“We are glad to see you. Please, join us,” Giovanni said warmly.
“I would like you to meet Greta, my daughter,” he added.
She immediately reached for Thorne’s hand, shaking it with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.
I remained silent, clenching my teeth.
They spoke briefly before we proceeded to the dinner table. The atmosphere was light, with Giovanni keeping the conversation flowing. I sat between Arlo and Caden, trying to focus on my food rather than whatever was happening on the other side of the table.
“That reminds me—I heard someone got hit in the chaos earlier, Papa,” Greta said casually.
I slowly chewed my food, pretending not to hear.
“Oh yes, I assume she’s here?” Giovanni asked, his gaze scanning the table until his eyes met mine. He smiled.
“Are you alright, dear?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied.
“I am sorry for the chaos earlier. I didn’t expect them to react that way," she said before pausing. "Maybe it’s because you’re so… unique.”
Unique. That sounded odd. She could’ve just been honest.
“I would like to know your activities while you're in our village. I’m really glad that you chose our village for your medical community exposure,” Giovanni said.
Thorne set down his glass. “I’d like to open a public check-up for the people here. After the chaos earlier, we need to rebuild trust—welcoming diversity and differences.”
“We’re also planning educational sessions for the children,” he continued. “Basic hygiene, disease prevention—especially regarding microorganisms. For teenagers, we’ve prepared lessons on health and sexual safety.”
He paused, taking a sip of his champagne before adding, “I’ve already planned everything based on the documents you sent me, Chief.”
“That is wonderful! Surely, you all have some free time,” Greta paused, glancing at us. “And of course, your students could use a little break too. What about the falls, Papa? That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?”
Thorne chuckled. I glanced at him—he actually chuckled. It was the first time I’d heard him do that in a while.
“You’re too kind, Greta,” he said. “But we need to focus on finishing this exposure. These students will be leveling up next year, and good experience on duty is important.”
I silently cut into my steak, pretending not to hear a thing. But I did. And I knew exactly what Greta wanted—time alone with Thorne.
And the worst part? He wasn’t stopping her.
My chest ached, that familiar weight pressing down on me as their conversation continued in low, sickeningly sweet tones.
“Zaira” 
I paused, realizing all eyes were on me. I had been too lost in my thoughts to catch what had just happened.
“Y-yes?” I asked, blinking.
Chief Giovanni offered a kind yet apologetic smile. “I was just asking if you’ll be alright for tomorrow and the next activities, after everything that happened. I hope you can forgive my people for their actions.” His voice held a tinge of disappointment.
I hesitated before nodding. “It’s alright, Chief. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You see,” he continued, “they aren’t very educated in medical science or DNA. To them, you’re simply a descendant of the mythological winter fairy.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Arlo smirking—clearly proud that his storytelling had taken root.
“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask,” the chief added warmly.
I nodded, forcing a small smile, but my thoughts lingered elsewhere.
Across the table, Thorne remained silent. He hadn’t said a word to defend me, hadn’t even acknowledged what happened. His focus was elsewhere—on Greta, who was still smiling at him as if the rest of us weren’t even here.
I clenched my fork a little tighter.