To Thaw a Frozen Heart

Chapter 1

 On the last days of fading autumn, a young man hurries down the nondescript stone corridor that links the student dormitories to the rest of the campus. As he walks, he slips on a pair of pristine white gloves he'd taken from his room.

The headmaster had notified him earlier to dress up and be at his office by sunset, but he got so absorbed in packing his belongings, that by the time he realized what time it is, the sun is setting and he is running late for his meeting.

I hope Sir Alahaan won't be too mad at me, thinks the young man. He hastily checks the rest of his uniform for missing parts: a light metal chainmail over a thin cotton shirt, both tucked into a pair of white, ankle-length pants held around his waist by a brown leather belt; a thicker, fancier white shirt hiding the chainmail and belt from view; a pair of black leather boots extending halfway up his lower leg; and last but not least, an unbuttoned gray coat over everything else, the back emblazoned with a silver shield over a downward-pointing sword: the insignia of the Chevalier Knights.

Okay, that seems to be everything, he notes with a satisfied breath as he steps into the academy courtyard.

The inner courtyard—or "the Circle," as the students and staff fondly refers to it—is a spacious, circular garden connecting all of the academy's major buildings to each other. Usually, the garden is filled with students moving from one building to the next, but winter break has left it mostly deserted. Right now, the young man could see only one other person in the Circle: another boy of about the same age lounging in the garden's central fountain. Their eyes meet, and the other boy stands up and waves at him.

"'Ey, Patrick," the other boy greets him as he hurries down the stone steps. "What took you so long? I've been waiting here for ages."

"I was packing and lost track of time," Patrick replies. "Do I look okay?"

"You're fine," the other boy assures him. "You forgot your helmet though," he adds, tapping the ornate silver helmet on his head, the only difference between their otherwise identical outfits.

"Ah, damn, I gotta go get mine-"

"No time! C'mon, let's go lets go let's go!" The two boys dash across the courtyard into the hallway leading to the main building. When they turn the corner to the headmaster's office, they find the headmaster himself waiting for them outside, a stoic look on his face.

"Tancred, Patrick. You're late," Sir Alahaan says flatly.

"P-please excuse our lateness, sir," Patrick breathes out.

The bigger man waves a hand in dismissal. "Your tardiness is forgiven, however I expect you both to do better next time." He turns around and opens one of the double doors. "Compose yourselves and come inside when you're ready," Alahaan says, closing the door behind him.

"Hear that? He wants us to do better next time," Patrick remarks as he straightens out his uniform.

"Wha-? But you're the one who was-" Tancred protests, but is cut off when Patrick pushes the heavy double doors leading into the office.

The room beyond the doors is a simple, sparsely decorated, but cozy and welcoming; hardly like the glamorous office that one would expect from the headmaster of a prestigious academy. Aside from the curtains adorning the windows and the tiger skin rug on the polished wooden floors, there is no other décor. The furniture consists of bookshelves and cabinets lining the paneled walls, two sofas worn out from years of use, with a small table in between; and a pinewood desk stacked with papers and writing materials.

Aside from Alahaan—who sits behind the desk—two other people are present. Sitting in one of the sofas is a tall man dressed in a noble's outfit; next to him is a man dressed in the same manner as the two boys, except that the gray coat is replaced with a shining white cloak draped over the latter's shoulders. Marked with the sword and shield, it indicated his status as a full-fledged Knight.