Wynter Frostbell's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Wynter Frostbell pressed their mittened hands against the frosted window of Master Glacian's workshop. Inside, an ice sculpture of a swan caught the light, throwing rainbow sparkles across the stone walls. Wynter's breath fogged the glass as they watched the master's chisel dance across the frozen surface. One day, nobles would display Wynter's own ice sculptures in their grand halls. But first, they needed to learn from the best. Wynter's fingers curled into fists of determination. Tomorrow, they would ask Master Glacian to take them on as an apprentice. The next morning, Wynter walked to the town square. A wooden water trough sat near the center, filled to the brim from last night's snow melt. The water had frozen solid in the cold. Wynter pulled out a small chisel from their coat pocket. If Master Glacian said no, they would practice on their own. They tapped the ice surface, testing its thickness. Wynter worked for three hours, chipping away at the frozen block. Their hands ached from the cold, but they kept going. A fir tree began to take shape in the ice. The branches weren't perfect, and one side looked lumpy. But it was theirs. A small crowd gathered to watch. Wynter's heart beat faster as people pointed and whispered. Master Glacian appeared at the edge of the crowd. He walked around Wynter's carving, studying each angle. Wynter held their breath. The master nodded once, then gestured for Wynter to follow him. Inside his workshop, he showed Wynter a sketch of a hall with tall arches and carved columns. "The Immortal Noble Hall needs ice sculptures for their winter celebration," he said. "Help me create them, and I'll teach you everything I know." Wynter's dream had just moved one step closer.