It was Kayla's first time in Lucretia, the southernmost land, where snow swallowed everything. No creatures. No sound. Just endless, frozen silence—a perfect haven for an introvert.
But why did no one warn her of the storm? The gale that can tore at her clothes, the wind that stung her face?
With arm raised, a fragile, translucent shield of ice spiraled from her palm protecting her from the storm as she walk towards the designated location.
"Achooo…" she sniffed.
Yeah, right. A winter-born mage faltering in the snowstorm… that would make me a laughingstock among my own kind.