Athyst Stormhunt had never known anything other than excellence. From the mont she took her first breath, she was destined for greatness—everyone had told her so.
"Really, Grandfather?" The little girl with striking violet eyes and cascading blue hair looked up at Aoi Saito, the esteed shihan of the Saito-Stormhunt dojo, her tiny hands clutching the hem of his gi with eager anticipation.
Aoi Saito, a man whose presence commanded both respect and fear, bent down, placing a firm yet affectionate hand on her head.
"Yes, of course, Amie," he confird with a nod. "You are the firstborn of the Saito-Stormhunt bloodline, a lineage blessed with warriors and believers. And you—" his eyes glead with certainty "—you possess the eyes of a believer. My wizard master has confird it. Among all children born in this era, you have the highest probability of becoming the Wind Guardian’s apprentice."
Athyst’s breath hitched. Her young heart swelled with uncontainable joy, her cheeks flushed. It was true—her destiny was written in the stars. The Wind Guardian, Frost, would be her master.
From that mont, she dedicated herself to training with the intensity and discipline of soone far beyond her years.
While other children played with dolls or explored the streets, Athyst was in the dojo before the sun rose. Under her grandfather’s strict guidance, she honed her body into a weapon.
Hand-to-Hand Combat: She mastered karate, judo, and taekwondo by the ti she was ten, her strikes so precise that even adult fighters hesitated to spar with her. Her reflexes were unmatched, her agility unparalleled.
ElentalMastery: Unlike most who struggled to grasp elental control, Athyst wielded wind as if it were an extension of her own body. She could send currents of air spiraling around her like a protective barrier, summon gusts strong enough to shatter wooden targets, and even montarily suspend herself midair—though levitation was still sothing she was refining.
ntalFortitude: Training wasn’t just physical. Eliotte, the revered Archmage of the Guardian Realm, personally oversaw her spiritual and intellectual developnt. She ditated in freezing waterfalls to steel her mind, morized ancient texts on Guardian history, and endured weeks of sensory deprivation to sharpen her focus.
She was tested, pushed, broken, and rebuilt stronger each ti.
And she endured it all with one goal in mind: tobeworthyofFrost.
When the ti ca—on the eve of her eighteenth birthday—Athyst was prepared.
She had waited. She had trained. She had sacrificed.
The sky shimred with celestial light as a figure erged from the darkness. But it was not Frost.
Instead, a young girl, draped in a white cloak, her silver hair flowing like moonlight, appeared before her. Her striking blue eyes held an eerie resemblance to the description Eliotte had once given of Frost himself.
For a mont, Athyst’s heart raced with hope. Could this be an envoy from my destined master?
The girl’s voice was soft yet firm. "Co. It is ti."
Athyst did not hesitate. She bid her parents farewell, fully aware that she would be forgotten by them, just as all apprentices of the Twelve Guardians were erased from their past lives.
She entered the Crystal Palace with unwavering faith. Then, the mont of truth arrived.
In the grand hall, before the twelve Guardians and the royal family, the apprentices were chosen. Athyst was just confused since there only four of them.
Ezekiel Ravencrest, Sebastian Silverthorn, West Crystalvein, and her, Athyst Stormhunt.
She was so pleased to hear that they were the first four apprentices who were chosen. Then, one by one, the four Guardians stepped forward to claim their protégés.
Her heart pounded as she awaited Frost’s arrival.
But when her na was called, it was not Frost who stepped forward. It was Zephyr, the Wind Guardian.
For a split second, the entire world seed to stop.
Athyst’s mind went blank. Her ears rang.
She barely registered Zephyr’s words as he welcod her. Barely felt the weight of the ceremonial robes being draped over her shoulders.
Because her gaze had locked onto Frost who only stood silently beside the Lunar King, distant, unmoved.
He did not choose her.
Her hands curled into fists beneath her sleeves, nails digging into her palms. Why?
Why had she been passed over? Why had she trained relentlessly, pushed herself beyond human limits, only to be denied her rightful place?
But Athyst was nothing if not composed.
So she swallowed her bitterness and bowed. Isworetoserve, andserveIshall.
She convinced herself—perhaps the Four-Season apprentices were simply stronger, more powerful. MaybeIwasn’tenough...
Until she learned the truth. Frost had not chosen another prodigy. He had not chosen a warrior, a scholar, or even a believer.
He had chosen Silvermist Evermore. A girl with no elental mastery according to her records.
At first, Athyst Stormhunt had been furious.
Not the kind of fleeting anger that flares up and burns out, but the kind that smolders, slow and dangerous. The kind that turns into an obsession.
She refused to accept that a girl like Silvermist Evermore—a nobody with no elental mastery, no refined combat skills—had been chosen over her.
It made no sense.
The Four-Season apprentices were supposed to be the strongest among them. Chosen at birth. Destined.
Yet, Frost, the Guardian she had prepared her entire life to serve, had ignored her existence entirely.
And that was the first sign that sothing was wrong.
So she investigated.
It started with whispers.
Moonstone Academy was a place of secrets, and Silvermist Evermore was no exception. Athyst imdiately suspected her the very first ti they crossed paths.
Silvermist’s aura was an eerie, unnatural chill—shadows curled at her feet, the air thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the world itself recoiled from her presence.
Athyst spent weeks subtly gathering information, weaving through the academy’s social circles like a phantom.
She started with those closest to Silvermist.
Silvermist lived in the Bloodstone dormitory, a place notorious for housing apprentices of varying disciplines. Athyst paid close attention to Silvermist’s dormmates—Adeline Skyborn, Matilda Sunblade, Candace Elderspire, Mila Sparrow, and Gail Emberlight.
Most of them were unremarkable, save for Mila, and Adeline, whose connection to the Ti Guardian made her unpredictable. Adeline always seed a step ahead, as if she knew when Athyst was observing her.
That made her dangerous.
Gail, however, was much easier to manipulate.
One night, Athyst found her alone in the library, frustration written all over her face as she flipped through a textbook, muttering curses under her breath.
Seizing the mont, Athyst approached. "Silvermist Evermore," she said casually, watching Gail’s reaction.
Gail’s expression twisted in an instant. "She’s nothing special. She must have gotten lucky," she spat.
Athyst’s pulse quickened. "Lucky how?"
Gail hesitated, but Athyst leaned in, her voice lower, coaxing the truth out.
"I heard from soone I know," Gail finally muttered. "That that woman must have been Frost’s guardian. Maybe by accident or maybe they were forced? That woman is a destruction herself. I won’t be so surprised if she had pulled sothing like that."
The words echoed in Athyst’s mind. By accident? By force? A destruction herself? How can soone with no power even do that?
Sothing was being kept from them. Sothing big. Then ca the rumors.
Frost’s apprentice did sothing that could have led to his staff shattering.
The re thought was absurd. The Guardians’ staffs were ancient relics, imbued with power beyond human comprehension. Breaking one wasn’t just unlikely—it should have been impossible.
And yet, his apprentice had done it. Silvermist Evermore.
The whispers spread through the academy like wildfire, but no one seed to have an answer as to how Frost’s apprentice had managed such a feat. They didn’t even have the slightest idea it was Silvermist all along.
More importantly, why was she still alive?
If an ordinary apprentice had shattered a Guardian’s weapon, there should have been consequences. Retribution. A punishnt severe enough to serve as a warning.
But nothing happened.
Silvermist was still here. Still walking the halls of Moonstone Academy as if she were just another student. As if she weren’t hiding sothing.
Determined to unearth the truth, Athyst began shadowing Silvermist.
She studied her interactions, noted every movent, analyzed her with the precision of a strategist.
She watched how Silvermist avoided unnecessary attention, how she kept to herself, how she flinched at certain conversations. She observed her training—or rather, her struggles in it. The girl had no proper elental control, no real combat finesse.
And yet...
Silvermist acted differently when she thought no one was watching. She would stare at her hands, as if expecting sothing to happen. She would touch the ground, hesitate, and then walk away quickly.
It was as if she was waiting for sothing to reveal itself. That was when Athyst’s suspicion turned into certainty.
Silvermist wasn’t just hiding sothing. She must have been hiding who she really was.
Then ca the final piece of the puzzle. Athyst overheard a conversation she wasn’t ant to hear—Adeline Skyborn, speaking in hushed tones to Mila Sparrow.
She had hidden behind the academy’s stone pillars, listening as Mila questioned Silvermist’s place in the academy.
"You’re really okay with this?" Mila’s voice was barely above a whisper.
"It’s not about being okay with it," Adeline replied, voice unreadable. "It’s about what must be."
"But he hasn’t even acknowledged her..."
"We don’t know that yet," Adeline hissed. "And how did you even know about that?"
Milla sighed. "You, two, have been very suspicious lately and I kinda heard it from that man friend of hers. Although he said it’s just a rumor, but I’m not stupid, you know."
Athyst’s forehead creased. It must be really true. And if Adeline, Mila, Gail, and the third person Mila ntioned knew sothing, then it ant that there are several people in this academy had the answers Athyst was looking for.
And if Silvermist was Frost’s apprentice—
No.
It wasn’t possible.
No one had ever announced it yet. No Guardian had ever co forward to claim her. There had been no ceremony, no recognition. Nothing.
But it made sense.
Frost had not chosen an apprentice yet. He even rejected the bond once before, breaking the natural cycle.
If he had finally chosen soone, it would explain why Silvermist is still in the academy. Although there are still other two apprentices who still didn’t have any master, they are not as mysterious as Silvemist.
It would explain why the academy protected her and didn’t even confirm nor deny the rumors.
It would explain... everything.
Athyst was no fool. She was trained in strategy, deception, and warfare. She understood now that Silvermist wasn’t just a powerless apprentice.
She was a secret.
A secret so dangerous that even the academy tries to hide everything about her. And if there was one thing Athyst despised more than losing, it was being left in the dark.
Silvermist Evermore had stolen what was rightfully hers.
But Athyst wasn’t done.
Notyet.
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