It took an hour until Mason finished applying the medication.
Elaris sat quietly the whole time, biting his lip whenever the cold paste touched an open wound.
"There," Mason said, tying the last bandage. "You'll live. Try not to move for a while."
The elf boy nodded weakly, his silver hair sticking to his face from sweat.
"...Thank you." His voice came out soft, barely above a whisper.
Mason stood, stretching his back. "What were you doing out here anyway? You don't look like a traveler."
Elaris looked down. "I... got separated from my group."
He didn't want to say more. The less this human knew, the safer he was.
"Then you're lucky I passed by," Mason said, taking out a small loaf of bread from his bag and tossing it to him.
"Eat. You'll recover faster."
Elaris caught it clumsily. He hesitated before taking a small bite. It was dry, but it tasted warm somehow.
Mason looked at him for a second, then turned toward the dark path ahead. "There's a small village an hour from here. Once you can walk, head there. The people are decent."
Elaris's chest tightened. He didn't want this man to leave yet.
Before he realized, he spoke. "Wait... what's your name?"
Mason paused mid-step.
"Mason."
"Mason…" Elaris repeated it slowly, as if testing the word, memorizing the sound. "I'm—"
"You don't have to tell me," Mason said, waving a hand. "Keep your secrets. Just stay alive."
With that, he started walking away, the forest swallowing his figure bit by bit.
Elaris stared at his back until it disappeared behind the trees.
He didn't know why his chest felt like this.
Maybe it was gratitude.
Or maybe something deeper—something he didn't want to admit.
He looked at the bandages again, then at the path Mason took.
"...Mason," he whispered once more.
A small smile crept to his lips.
By the next morning, the forest was silent again. A faint layer of mist hung low, soft and cold.
Elaris stood near a large oak tree, his robes still dusty from the night before. His escorts—three elven guards in travel armor—waited beside their horses.
"Your Highness," Clara said, adjusting her bow. "We should return. The capital will panic if they know you vanished again."
Elaris didn't answer right away. His gaze was fixed in the distance—the direction Mason had gone.
"That man…" he said quietly. "The noble of this land, Mason. There was something about him."
Clara tilted her head. "He's just a human lord, isn't he?"
Elaris shook his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "No. He's different. When he looked at me, I didn't feel like a prince. I felt... seen."
The other guards exchanged puzzled looks.
Elaris took a breath and turned toward them. "Prepare our departure. I'll return to the kingdom. But before I stand before Father again, I'll become someone worthy of that man."
Clara blinked. "Worthy?"
"Yes," he said simply. "When next we meet, he'll look at me not as a stranger… but as his equal."
He climbed onto his horse and rode off, the sound of hooves fading into the fog.
---
The next morning.
Mason woke up early, sunlight slipping through the thin curtains of the inn. He rubbed his eyes, then glanced toward the corner where Sarah was packing supplies into leather bags.
"Morning, daddy~" she said, humming. "Everything's ready."
"Good," Mason replied, fastening his cloak. "We'll leave in ten minutes. Make sure the others are ready and the horses fed."
He took a last sip of his now-cold tea, stood up, and walked outside. The air was crisp, carrying a hint of frost.
In the stable, the rest of the group was already waiting—Emilia tightening the saddles, Marianne reading over a map, and the other girls chattering softly.
"Alright," Mason said. "We move north. Once we pass the frozen plains, we'll reach the gate by noon."
Everyone nodded. Soon, the hooves struck the dirt road in rhythm, the group moving out in a tight formation.
Far behind them, hidden under a long cloak and a hood, a lone rider followed from a distance—Elaris.
His eyes never left Mason's silhouette ahead. Every few minutes, he smiled faintly, whispering to himself.
"Soon, I'll see how far you've come, Mason."
Hours passed. The warm light faded as they climbed higher into the northern ridge. Then, as they reached the final rise, the world opened before them.
A massive wall of ice stood tall against the grey sky, shining like glass.
The Frost Gate.
It stretched endlessly, more like a frozen mountain than a door.
The air was sharp and heavy with mana, the ground coated in a thin layer of glittering frost.
Everyone stopped in silent awe.
Marianne was the first to speak. "It's… enormous."
Mason said nothing at first. His eyes scanned the icy surface, tracing faint carvings that looked like runes.
Then, in his mind, a single thought echoed:
And this guy was supposed to be the weakest in that dimension…?
From the cliff above, half-hidden behind a jagged spike of ice, Elaris crouched low. A faint grin crept across his face as he watched Mason's group begin their climb. Their boots crunched against the frozen wall, ropes biting into the ice as they slowly ascended toward the gate's upper ledge.
The cold wind brushed against Elaris's hood, but he barely noticed. His green eyes were fixed on Mason, moving with steady, focused steps at the front.
Halfway through the climb, a familiar voice broke the still air.
"Ughhh!" the princess complained, clinging to the rope with a dramatic pout. "This is so slow! You know, I could've just used my key to open the gate from the start."
Mason froze in place. "…You what?"
She tilted her head innocently. "My key. The royal one. It opens everything."
The entire group went quiet.
Mason slowly turned his head toward her, face unreadable. "And you decided to say this now… when we're already halfway up a three-hundred-meter wall?"
Her cheeks puffed out, clearly missing the weight of his tone. "I just thought it would be more fun this way!"
The air thickened. No one laughed. Not even Sarah.
"Princess," Mason said slowly, almost too calm. "Tonight, I'll make sure you understand what a 'lesson' means."
Her face flushed crimson. Her usual smugness cracked for a second. Then, like a spark catching fire, she bit her lip and shouted back, "T-then do it! Why do you always talk like that but never act?!"
Her voice echoed against the ice. Everyone froze. Sarah's eyes widened. Marianne quietly cleared her throat. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Mason lowered his head slightly, shadows hiding his expression. The sudden silence wrapped around them like chains.
The princess trembled, realizing what she'd just said out loud. Then, forcing a shaky but shiny smile, she tried to cover it up. "F-fine then… when we get back, you'll make me understand my place, right? You'll… give me a night I won't forget. That's a promise."
Her voice wavered between fear and something else. Something hotter.
Scaroused, Sarah muttered under her breath, earning a tiny elbow from Emilia.
Far above them, Elaris's fingers tightened around the ice. His breath hitched, and his soft voice cracked into a whisper.
"That should've been me…"
The group stiffened.
Marianne turned her head, scanning the upper ridge. "Did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Sarah whispered. "Sounded like someone talking."
Mason glanced upward. "Probably just the wind," he said flatly.
Elaris pressed a hand to his chest, exhaling quietly as relief washed through him. He shifted deeper into the shadows of the ridge, heart pounding.
Below, the group resumed their climb, the icy wind howling around them. The Frost Gate loomed closer, its massive runes pulsing faintly like something alive.
And somewhere in the cold, three hearts—one angry, one flustered, and one jealous—beat a little louder.