Pale, gentle flakes had descended upon the academy.

  It was the height of autumn still—the leaves had not yet surrendered their full colour—yet the season had already begun to shed its skin. Amber foliage clung stubbornly to branches, now blanketed in a delicate dusting of white. From the pockmarked brickwork of his quarters, Thomas emerged, pulling his fur-lined, knee-length overcoat tighter over his high-collared shirt and woollen vest, his boots crunching lightly against the thin crust of fresh snow over flagstones.

  And the man's breath bloomed in the frigid air as he took in his surroundings.

  Ahead, the campus grounds sparkled beneath the soft light of an overcast morning sky, rooftops shimmering faintly under a veil of frost. Cold winds carried the murmurs and laughter from pupils and faculty members alike, who'd left their dorms to marvel at the wondrous sight. Ironic, Thomas thought, how those who bent the laws of nature with a flick of a wrist could be spellbound by something as ordinary, as unassuming, as an early snowfall.

  Normally, he'd join the merriment without a second thought.

  But today, he couldn't help but gaze up at the darkened clouds overhead.

  A month had passed since the man set foot in Wenton, and with it, his initial encounter with Mirabelle. They'd yet to cross paths following their last exchange three weeks ago. Only when he asked around did he learn that the woman had disappeared shortly afterwards. No longer could she be found in her usual haunt between the weathered shelves of the library's west wing, nor in the courtyard where she used to invite Thomas for evening sandwich breaks.

  She simply vanished without a trace, and the looming possibility that he was the cause of her absence weighed heavily on his mind. Just as the man brooded over such thoughts, however, he was snapped out of his reverie by the powdery thud of a snowball catching him in the shoulder.

  "Might as well paint a target on your back if you're gonna space out like that, Teach!" Lilith shouted from across the road, bundled up in a muffler over her signature academy robes.

  Thomas opened his mouth to reply, but by then the rosy-cheeked halfling had already darted away, giggling as Gretchen charged after her, heaving a snowball the size of a small boulder. Letting out a sigh, the man swept the remaining fine particles off his arm, a subtle grin parting his lips, and the knot in his chest considerably loosened. Placidly, Thomas buried his hands in his pockets as he admired the peaceful scenery before him.

  "Not fond of the weather?" Nia sauntered up beside him, taking in the view as well.

  He didn't even need to turn; he recognised her velvety cadence almost immediately.

  "Quite the opposite, actually," the man responded nonchalantly. "Growing up on a mountain gets you used to this sort of climate. If anything, I guess it has made me a bit homesick."

  "Is that so?" Her arms drifted behind her, mittened hands coming to rest at the small of her back.

  "What about you? You hail from the north, don't you? Doesn't the cold remind you of home?"

  "What gave that away? The surname or the simple fact that I'm a snow elf?"

  "Neither... I just so happened to recall that sliver of information from your student file."

  "My, you really went out of your way to read up on me. I'm flattered," the elf teased. "As for your question, I suppose it does feel rather nostalgic. I regret to inform you, though, that I don't share your sentiments. At this time, I hold no particular desire to return to my place of origin."

  "Oh... and why is that?"

  "For one, it's painfully dull. An endless stretch of tundra, interspaced with lifeless, stark spires of stone. As it stands, I much prefer the sordid charm of Wenton. Besides, as of late, you've proven yourself to be a constant source of entertainment for me. I'm in no hurry to leave that behind."

  Chuckling dryly, Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "If it keeps you interested in your studies, you'll hear no complaints from me."

  "Indeed!" Nia smirked, leaned forward. "I look forward to our lesson later, Professor."

  A fair distance away, a mound of white erupted as Lilith's small head broke through its frozen surface, her curly pink pigtails unfurling like wings. And from afar, she eyed the pair, brow knitted with suspicion. "Say, Gretch," the halfling uttered, completely forgetting that she was neck-deep in snow, "don't you think Nia has been getting weirdly close to the Professor?"

  "Hm? What do you mean?" the orc said, shifting her attention to the man and the elf as she plodded over to her half-buried friend. "Those two seem pretty normal to me."

  "No, no, something's definitely up. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Nia had a crush on the guy."

  "Hah? There's no way that's true!" Gretchen boomed, waving off the very idea. "This is Nia we're talking about here! Did getting squashed dislodge your brain or something?"

  "Just think about it, meathead! It'd explain why she always sticks with him after class, or why she'd sometimes bail on us during lunchtime. Don't even get me started on all the rumours about them. No matter how you spin it, she totally has a thing for him!"

  "Mm... now that you mention it, she has been hanging out with us less than she used to..."

  "Right?!"

  "But why that human of all people? She's shot down countless proposals before."

  "I mean, isn't it obvious? Just look at him. Tall, muscular, good-looking—he's the full package."

  "Some of the poor bastards who declared their love for her had higher specs, though..."

  "Then there's only one way to find out for certain." The corner of Lilith's lips curved deviously, her eyes alight with impish delight. "We ought to confirm it with her directly, don't you think?"

  "Eh? She's definitely going to kick your ass, you know?"

  "Listen here, Gretch. This here's a huge deal. Our Nia is finally into a member of the opposite sex. It's our duty as her closest friends to aid her in this pursuit of romance!"

  "You just want to screw with her, don't you?"

  "So are you with me or not?"

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  Conflicted, Gretchen scratched her head.

  "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious... You better be the one who does all the talking, though!"

  "Yeah, yeah, just leave it to me. I'll get that girl singing in no time!" the halfling smugly said before sneezing loudly. "B-by the way... could you pull me out? My whole body's numb..."

  Come noon, the bell of the clock tower tolled the end of morning classes. As the arched hallways of the school building buzzed with the usual post-lecture bustle—shoes scuffing against stone, chatter between students, the occasional book snapped shut or bag slung over the shoulder—Thomas dismissed his class of three with a clap. "Alright! Since it's snowing, we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow. If you have any questions, feel free to visit me anytime. I'll see you then!"

  Nia rose with her usual poise, offering the Professor a polite nod before gracefully exiting the room. Not even a few steps down the corridor, and a voice piped up behind her. "Hey, Nia!" Lilith called out to the elf, peeking out from the doorway and wearing an innocent face. "Got a sec?"

  "Lily?" Nia looked over her shoulder as the halfling trotted over. "Did you need something?"

  "Mind if Gretchen and I talk to you for a bit?" Lilith simpered, rocking back on her heels.

  Out of the corner of her vision, the elf glimpsed her orcish friend hovering in the background.

  "Sure," she answered, wise to the underlying mischief in the halfling's tone.

  "It won't take long. Just a quick question," Lilith chirped, motioning Nia towards a hushed nook, tucked between unused classrooms, lit only by the subdued glow from the frosted glass panes.

  Once they were secluded, the halfling came to a stop and faced her squarely.

  "So?" she said, crossing her arms.

  Playfully, the elf cocked her head sideways. "So?"

  "Give it to us straight: what's going on with you and the Professor?"

  "I'm afraid I don't follow."

  "Don't play dumb. We notice the way you cling to him. Just come clean. Do you like him?"

  An enigmatic smile played on Nia's visage as the gleam in her violet eyes intensified. "You seem to be mistaken," she said evenly. "My interest in him lies solely in the truth behind his defensive magicks. Nothing more. Consider my actions to be in service of uncovering that secret."

  "And how does holding hands with the guy while getting ice cream bring you closer to the truth?"

  "I have my methods."

  "Come on, Nia... just save us the trouble and fess up already. We're friends, aren't we? If you really do have feelings for him, we can help you!"

  Behind the elf, Gretchen stood rooted to the floor, her silhouette carved by the tilt of the window light. And Nia found herself flanked on both sides, the girls' incessant prodding steadily getting on her nerves. "I tire of this pointless conversation." Nia exhaled softly. "Evidently, you're not willing to accept anything I say unless it aligns with this fanciful notion of yours."

  "We'll accept it if it doesn't reek of bullshit," the halfling snarked.

  "In that case, I'd best get back to you once your nose functions regularly again."

  With that, the elf spun on her heel to leave.

  "Oi, I didn't say we were done—!" Right as Lilith reached out to grab her sleeve, the brick beneath her foot jutted violently upward with a dull crack, tripping her mid-stride. And the halfling pitched forth with a startled yelp and smacked face-first into the ground, muffled curses sputtering through a mouthful of dust. Gretchen, visibly shaken, instinctively stepped aside as Nia silently brushed past her.

  Left behind, Lilith pushed herself up slowly, face flushed red with a mix of pain and humiliation.

  "That bitch..." she growled, stumbling to her feet.

  "Well, that's about how I expected things to go," the orc said, walking up to the halfling. "Are you satisfied? She made it clear that she's only concerned with that crazy defence spell of his."

  "On the contrary, her pissed-off reaction only reinforces what I already suspected. She's absolutely head over heels for him, but is too shy to admit it!" the halfling confidently asserted.

  "I'm starting to feel bad for her..."

  "You know how Nia is. If we don't give her a push, she'll keep dancing around it till graduation. By then, who knows if the guy gets married? We're saving her from heartbreak here, Gretch."

  "You're on your own, Lily. I'm not risking my hide for this."

  "Hmph, suit yourself. I've already devised just the thing to get those two together."

  Failing to stifle her mirth, a wry, lopsided grin crept through her lips.

  As shadows lengthened and the academy settled into the lull of late afternoon, the halls thinned to a whisper. Somewhere between the archives and the east annexe, the stillness was disturbed by a pair of footfalls and the clatter of a precariously arranged tower of leather-bound tomes.

  "Careful," Thomas said, catching the top volume with one hand before it tipped while balancing a globe in the other. "At least let me carry half your load. This is my job to begin with."

  "Don't be silly, Teach," Lilith chimed, adjusting the books against her chest. "It's the least I can do to make up for how I've treated you. Think of this as my apology."

  "Just the sentiment alone is enough to make me happy, you know?"

  And the halfling kept close to his side, practically skipping to match his longer gait, the very model of angelic helpfulness. Understandably, the man was wary at first, but his reservations melted away as she maintained the same airy, innocent smile all the way to the classroom. Once inside, she set her stack down with a theatrical huff. "Whew! What's this all for anyway?" she squeaked, quietly backing away from Thomas as he placed the globe on a recess in the wall.

  "Ah..." Thomas carefully lined the books along the corner shelf. "I came across these old grimoires and thought they'd be useful to you and Gretchen. Not to give anything away, but I figured you two should branch out of the spells you already know. You're both powerful already, but if things go sideways... wouldn't it be better to have a few extra tricks up your sleeves? That globe there, though, was lent to me by Grimwald. Spruces up the space, don't you think?"

  Content with the presentation, he planted his hands against his hips. Before he could thank his student properly, Lilith had already sidled over to her desk at the centre of the room. There, nestled among a chaos of half-folded shapes, two steaming mugs awaited him, the rich aroma of chocolate wafting from their ceramic rims. "Here you go, Teach," she said sweetly, picking one up and bringing it over. "A little pick-me-up after a hard day's work."

  "O-oh, you really shouldn't have..." Touched by her uncharacteristic gesture, Thomas blinked before he accepted the mug, fingers curling around its heat. "You make this yourself?"

  "Yep! Impressed?"

  "Somewhat..." Tentatively, the man took a sip, half-expecting poison, only to sigh as thick, decadent flavours coated his palate and a comforting warmth pervaded his chest. As he continued to drink slowly, savouring each gulp, he glanced over at the halfling's desk—its surface littered with unfinished crease patterns and a few fresh sheets laid out in neat rows. "You've been busy," he commented, lowering his cup. "Still making those planes, I see."

  "I do still have to replace the batch I destroyed trying to defeat you," Lilith remarked, perched lightly on a nearby table as she sipped from her own mug.

  "S-sorry about that..."

  "It's no biggie. It's all water under the bridge."

  "You know," he mused, "I never got around to showing you how to fold that paper frog."

  For a split second, the halfling's entire posture stiffened, and the cracks in her cutesy facade spread like hairline fractures across porcelain. "You remember that...?"

  "You did seem pretty intrigued by it. If you'd like, I could give you a quick lesson right now."

  And in that moment, her expression softened—her childlike veneer beaming with genuine enthusiasm. "R-really?" she said, barely containing her excitement as the man set down his cup.

  "Of course!" Thomas approached her desk, prepared to teach her. "I am your teacher, after all."

  Yet halfway through picking up a sheet, the man paused.

  A strange heaviness tugged at his limbs, and the paper slipped from his fingers.

  Hastily, he braced himself on her desk as his knees buckled.

  And the world tilted on its axis, blurred at the edges.

  Before the numbing sensation swallowed him whole, the last thing he espied was Lilith, hopping off her desk, her countenance inscrutable as she loomed over him, paintbrush in hand.

  "Sorry, Teach, but I'm doing this for a friend. You understand, right?"

  Only then did darkness consume him.