Professor Wintergale's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

Wintergale arrived at his workshop the next morning to find one of the frozen flowers missing. A small gap marred the perfect arrangement where a crystalline bloom had stood. He circled the space twice, counting the sculptures. Seventeen instead of eighteen. He checked the stone shelf carved into his workshop's north wall, where he kept his favorite disasters in small wooden boxes. The cracked jar with spider legs—formed when one of Mira's emotion samples had crystallized and tried to escape its container—sat in its usual spot. So did the charred brushes and the vials of separated pigment. Nothing else had been disturbed. Only the flower. Only the most visible piece of evidence he'd planned to show the masters. Wintergale walked to the frost tower beyond the practice yard, where the traditional students kept their formal studies. Inside, he found a young man bent over a rune tablet, carefully inscribing protection symbols. The student looked up, startled, then straightened when he recognized Wintergale. "Professor. I was just—" He gestured at the tablet, but his eyes flicked to a cloth-wrapped bundle near the window. Wintergale unwrapped it. The frozen flower gleamed inside, still perfect, still proof. The student's face went pale. "I only wanted to study the technique. How Elsa's phoenix captured the portal-bloom's structure without destroying its form. If I could learn that precision..." He trailed off. Wintergale rewrapped the flower and tucked it under his arm. "Come to my workshop tomorrow morning. Bring your tablet and whatever tools you think you'll need." The student blinked. "You're not reporting me?" Wintergale smiled. "You're not stealing. You're hungry. There's a difference." He left the tower with both the flower and an unexpected gift—proof that even the traditional students were starting to watch his methods with interest instead of contempt.