A long time later, Freya opened her eyes. She couldn’t sleep. She got up, stood by the window, and looked out at the heavy night.
Moonlight spilled over the snow, dyeing the whole world silver-white.
In the distance, the snowy mountains shimmered with a faint blue light under the moon, like a sleeping giant beast.
She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the pulse of the black fragment.
It was more active than before, like a snake that had been startled, slowly writhing deep in her heart meridian.
The contaminated power on Wensente had awakened it.
What was it expecting? What was it responding to?
“Boss.”
Lyra’s voice came from behind.
“Aren’t you asleep yet?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Lyra fell silent for a moment, then crawled out of her bedding and came over to her.
“Then I can’t sleep either.”
Freya looked at her, at those red eyes filled with worry, at her swollen palms and blistered feet.
“Do your feet still hurt?”
“Not anymore. Your ointment is amazing.”
“Grandfather mixed it himself.”
Lyra lowered her head and looked at her feet. Most of the blisters had subsided, and the scraped skin had started to scab over.
“Grandfather is amazing.”
“Yeah.”
The two of them fell silent, staring out the window at the snowfield lit by moonlight. In the distance, a night bird called out, long and lonely.
“Boss, do you think what Wensente said was true?”
“What parts?”
“Why your mother went to Severe Winter City in the first place.” Lyra paused. “She didn’t come here just for the Magic Symposium, did she?”
Freya was silent for a long time. “Maybe. But I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow at the library, we might be able to find out.”
“Maybe.”
Lyra looked at her, at her face made even paler by the moonlight, then suddenly reached out and took her hand.
“Boss, no matter what we find, don’t shoulder it alone.”
Freya lowered her head, looking at the hands holding hers, at those red eyes full of determination. “Yeah.”
Lyra grinned, showing her little wolf fang.
“Then sleep now. We have to get up early tomorrow.”
“You sleep first.”
“If you don’t sleep, I won’t either.”
“I’ll watch a little longer.”
“Then I’ll keep you company.” As she said that, Lyra yawned.
Freya looked at her face, clearly exhausted but forcing herself to stay awake. “Go to sleep. I’ll come in a bit.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Lyra stared at her for a few seconds, then nodded, walked back to the bed, and curled up under the covers. She lay on her side, facing Freya, her eyes half-open as if waiting for her. After a short while, the sound of even breathing came. She had fallen asleep.
Freya stood by the window, looking at that peaceful sleeping face for a long time.
Then she walked back to the bed, lay down gently, and pulled the covers over herself. Outside the window, the moonlight slowly shifted.
The distant snowy mountains appeared and disappeared in the night.
On the first night in Severe Winter City, she finally closed her eyes. That night, she didn’t dream.
The next morning, when Freya woke up, Lyra was no longer in the room. She sat up. The sky outside the window hadn’t fully brightened yet.
Morning light squeezed through the gap in the curtains, drawing a thin golden line on the floor.
She saw Lyra crouching on the windowsill, holding a piece of bread, tearing it into small pieces to feed an orange cat that had appeared from who knows where.
The cat ate with focus, its tail held high. Lyra was also focused, completely unaware that Freya was already awake.
Freya watched her for a while.
“Where did the cat come from?”
Lyra turned her head, her red eyes sparkling.
“It was squatting at the door when I opened it this morning. Serar said its name is Orange, and it’s the inn’s cat, specially for catching mice.”
“Are you afraid of mice?”
“No. But cats are so cute.” Lyra tore off another piece of bread and handed it to Orange. Orange licked her hand, then took the bread and ran off with it.
Freya watched her, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.
“Boss, you smiled!” Lyra jumped down from the windowsill and ran over to her.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You did! I saw it!”
“You saw wrong.”
“I did not see wrong! Boss, you smiled!”
Freya ignored her and got up to wash up.
Lyra followed behind, chattering about Orange’s antics. After washing up and changing clothes, Freya walked out of the room.
Serar was already waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall, holding a book but not reading it, as if lost in thought.
There were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly he hadn’t slept all night. Hearing the door, he looked up at Freya.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“Not bad.”
Serar nodded and didn’t ask further. He turned and walked downstairs. “Come on, breakfast. Then we’ll go to the library.”
Lyra followed behind him, for once not glaring at him. She noticed his bad complexion. “Did you not sleep last night?”
“I did.”
“Liar. You have dark circles under your eyes.”
Serar was silent for a moment, then said nothing. Lyra looked at his back and stopped asking.
The inn’s dining room was on the first floor, not big, with a few wooden tables scattered around the fireplace.
The old woman, Lilian, was placing food on the table—oatmeal porridge, dark bread, and a small dish of honey. When she saw them coming down, she smiled.
“Come on, eat while it’s hot.”
The three of them sat down, each picking up their bowl and drinking slowly.
Freya took a couple of sips, put down her bowl, and looked at Lilian.
“Grandma Lilian, do you know my mother?”
Lilian’s expression shifted slightly, then she gave a soft smile.
“I do. She stayed here for over a month. Every day she left early and came back late, going to the library to look up materials. Sometimes she stayed out too late, so I would leave the door open for her.” She paused.
“She was a very quiet person, didn’t talk much, but she had a beautiful smile. When she left, she said a sentence to me—’Lilian, if I ever have a daughter, I’ll bring her to Severe Winter City to see the snow.'” She looked at Freya, her eyes a little red.
“She didn’t come.”
Freya lowered her head, looking at the half bowl of porridge left. “She got sick. Later, she passed away.”
“I know.” Lilian’s voice was a little hoarse. She took a deep breath and placed the tray on the table. “Eat slowly. If you need more, add it.” She turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Lyra looked at her back, a flicker of pity in her red eyes. “Boss, she’s really sad.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sad?”
Freya was silent for a moment. “Eat. Then we’ll go to the library.”
The Severe Winter City Library was located in the city center, an old gray building.
The outer walls were covered in ivy, and the windows were made of stained glass, refracting multicolored light when the sun shone on them.
The steps at the entrance were worn smooth as mirrors by time.
When Serar pushed open the heavy oak door, a scent of old books and parchment rushed toward them.
The hall was tall, with an arched ceiling painted with ancient murals. Bookshelves stretched from the floor to the ceiling, every shelf crammed with books.
“The Severe Winter City Library, the largest collection of books on the continent.” Serar’s voice echoed through the hall.
“If what you’re looking for isn’t here, it won’t be anywhere else.”
Freya nodded and walked toward the row of ancient shelves. Lyra followed behind her, her red eyes curiously looking around.
She had never seen such a large library before.
“Boss, how many books are there here?”
“Several hundred thousand. Maybe more.”
Lyra’s mouth formed an O shape. “How long will it take us to find what we need?”
“I don’t know. But we’ll find it eventually.”
Freya stopped in front of a shelf, reached out, and gently ran her fingers over the spines.
The spines had labels with titles and numbers.
Her finger stopped on a thick hand-copied book—A Study of Northern Magic History.
She pulled out the book, opened the table of contents, and her gaze quickly moved over the titles.
“Lyra.”
Her voice sounded strange. Lyra leaned in. “What is it?”
“Here.” Freya pointed at one of the titles—”An Examination of Cecilia’s Journey to Severe Winter.”
Lyra’s eyes widened. “Your mother?”
“Yeah.” Freya turned to that page.
The pages were yellowed, the handwriting scrawled—it was a record left by a witness.
“Cecilia Christo Dale arrived at Severe Winter City in the spring of the New Calendar Year 1, staying at the inn east of the city. She went in and out of the library and the North City Ruins every day, looking hurried, as if searching for something. Someone once saw her walking alone late at night, holding a glowing crystal in her hand.”
Freya’s finger stopped there.
“Did she find what she was looking for?” Lyra asked softly.
Freya looked further down. The last line was so scrawled it was almost illegible—”She found it.” Freya turned the page, but the rest was blank.
She was silent for a long time, then closed the book.
“She found it. But she didn’t take it away.”
“Why?”
Freya looked at the row of ancient spines on the shelf, recalling her mother’s last words.
“Freya, when you grow up, you’ll understand.” She didn’t understand.
But now, standing in the Severe Winter City Library, holding the book that recorded her mother’s footsteps, she suddenly understood a little.
The thing her mother had found in Severe Winter was probably related to the fragment in her heart. She hadn’t taken it away because she knew that one day, her daughter would come.
“Boss.”
Lyra’s voice broke her train of thought.
“Yeah.”
“Your mother left something for you.”
Freya looked at her. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Then let’s go find it.” Lyra’s voice was light but firm.
“No matter where it is, we’ll find it.”
Serar stood not far away, watching them, complex emotions churning in his deep blue eyes. He didn’t walk over, just stood there quietly.
Lilian’s words, “You look just like your mother,” echoed in his ears.
He thought of his mother, of her back as she left the Rylar family without looking back.
He had run away too, just like his mother. But he hadn’t run far enough. Those things had still caught up to him.
He walked over to Freya. “Did you find it?”
“Found it. But not completely.”
“What else do you need?”
“I need to know what she found in the North City Ruins.”
Serar’s brows furrowed slightly.
“The North City Ruins… that’s a restricted area. Without the city lord’s permission, no one is allowed entry.”
“Can you get us permission?”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.