Maze of Frost.

Darkness enveloped the cavern—dense and absolute. Not a single flicker of light pierced through. Faint, repeated noises echoed from one end of the dome. Alaric's heart began to race.

"I can only use healing magic… How am I supposed to fight like this?" he muttered to himself.

Then, suddenly, a gentle blue light illuminated the far corner of the cavern, shining from the same place the sounds were coming from. Alaric shot up, grabbing an arrow from his quiver and readying his bow. But as his eyes adjusted to the glow, he froze.

A young girl stood there.

She had long, flowing blonde hair that gradually faded into a soft ocean-blue near the ends. A white dress, simple yet elegant, stretched to her knees. A string tied just above her chest held a glowing blue gem, revealing a small portion of her chest where the fabric parted. Baggy white trousers covered her legs and feet, blending into the darkness below. In her hand, she carried a slender white staff with a cage-like structure at the top—inside hovered a radiant blue crystal, the source of the light.

Alaric was just about to notch the arrow when a voice—light and a little childish—came from her.

"Do you know someone named Aaron?"

Alaric lowered his bow, took a breath to calm his nerves, and replied, "Yes. How do you know about him?"

She gave a small nod. "Long story short, I know where he is. He's in trouble. I can lead you to him."

Alaric hesitated. How can I trust her? He thought. But then again, he had no other leads. "Well," he said, softening his voice, "if you know where he is… would you be so kind to take me to him?"

The girl turned, her dress swaying behind her. "Follow me, then."

Alaric did just that.

The cave stretched on endlessly, the blue glow from her staff guiding the way. Alaric carried Ignis on his back, keeping close behind her.

"May I ask your name?" Alaric asked, his voice echoing slightly in the tunnel.

"Oh! Apologies for my rudeness. My name is Sylvia," she said. "I live nearby in a small house in the mountains. As for Aaron… he's fighting the Witch of Frost at this very moment. I warned him not to get involved, but he wouldn't listen."

The word witch sent a chill down Alaric's spine.

"He's taking on a witch alone?" Alaric said in disbelief. "Witches haven't been defeated for generations. Is he insane?"

"I'm afraid he is," Sylvia said. "We should hurry."

Eventually, a brighter blue glow signaled the tunnel's end. As they stepped into the open, they were greeted by towering, thin walls of ice that stretched up to a high frozen ceiling. Strange blue shards embedded in the walls cast an ethereal light across the chamber. Two paths diverged ahead—left and right.

"This way," Sylvia said, turning left.

They walked in silence through the frozen hallways. Soon, they entered a large dome-shaped space with no walls—only one visible exit on the opposite end.

But before they could cross, something moved.

A tall humanoid figure of solid ice stepped in front of the exit. Sharp facial features. Predatory eyes. Entirely sculpted from ice—even his hair. Only the lower half of his body was covered in what looked like chiseled armor. He raised a long spear of ice that materialized in his hand.

"Now what?" Alaric muttered, clearly annoyed.

"Don't worry," Sylvia said calmly. "I'll handle it."

Without hesitation, the creature launched several ice shards their way. Sylvia reacted instantly, forming a hovering ice barrier mid-air that shattered under the assault. She countered, conjuring six ice shards of her own. Two pierced the creature's legs, two its arms, and two its neck. The icy figure crumbled into shards on the ground.

"That should take care of it," Sylvia said, already heading for the exit.

Another long hallway followed. They walked for what felt like ages.

"This place feels endless," Alaric complained. "You sure you're not fooling me?"

"I… I'm sorry if it feels that way," Sylvia replied, her tone softer, almost nervous. "Aaron helped me once. I owe him. This is the least I can do."

They turned left, right, and left again through an icy labyrinth. The walls shimmered, their reflections distorted and cold. But then, everything shifted.

A sudden quake shook the floor. The walls trembled violently.

"What now?" Alaric said, his voice rising.

Ignis stirred. "Where the hell am I?" he mumbled, groggy, slowly standing on his own feet.

In an instant, the icy walls vanished into thin air.

"What the hell?" Ignis shouted.

Far ahead, a single figure stood amidst a field of shattered ice statues and crumbling structures. Destruction surrounded them. Sylvia's eyes widened. Without a word, she dashed forward, her clothes billowing behind her, leaving behind a trail of shimmering blue particles.

Alaric followed. So did Ignis.

"Who is she? And why are we following her?" Ignis asked.

"Long story," Alaric replied. "She knows where Aaron is. Just move!"

As they reached the scene, they finally saw him—Aaron.

He stood at the center, his foot pierced through the abdomen of the Witch of Frost. Blood dripped down her face, and yet she wore a twisted, smiling expression. Aaron stood motionless. A thin horizontal scar stretched across his forehead, some of it hidden beneath his white hair. Blood seeped from the wound, staining the tips of his hair red. His eyes were blank—completely white—and his face wore a haunting smirk.

Bruises covered his arms, but otherwise, he seemed untouched.

The Witch of Frost had long silver hair and cold blue eyes. She wore plain white robes with no designs—just emptiness. Her presence, even in death, was chilling.

Merlock stood nearby, mouth agape, eyes wide with shock. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

Alaric rushed to Aaron's side, trying to heal the wound—but his magic had no effect. He quickly wrapped a bandage around Aaron's head, his hands trembling.

Silence hung over them, suffocating and heavy.

Then Merlock, still staring at Aaron, finally spoke.

"The last words Aaron said were… 'It was fun.'"