The northwestern edge of the lake seemed quieter than the rest of the frozen plain, as if the air there were trapped, suffocated under the weight of the thick ice. The group advanced cautiously, attentive to the changes in the texture of the ground—and it was precisely these changes that revealed what they were looking for.
It was Sylphie who noticed first.
"There," she said, kneeling and tapping with her gloved hand on a section of ice that had a strangely bluish color, deeper than the rest around it. "That layer… it's not natural."
Irelia approached and observed closely. "That was stone. The entrance should be right here."
"And it is," Amelia added, leaning down to analyze the surface. Small irregularities in the ice formed circular outlines, like the beginning of an arch. "Only… it's buried."
