Fwoosh. A ball of fire flew past a spectator who was attending an elemental fight between fire and ice.  The crowd went wild as Ice shards grew on the chain fence protecting-but crudely-the spectators.  “It looks like Pyro is just getting warmed up!” chuckled the announcer. He grasped at a tall, stout bottle containing a golden liquid. 

A scorch mark appeared on the clay wall of the below-ground arena, followed by a rain of flames from no-where in particular aimed at a figure cloaked in tan with icy blue edges.  She sidestepped the balls of heat and seemed to dance around the falling flames, then lashed out with a full-fledged Ice Blue dragon avatar surrounding her.  The boy robed in orange and yellow with a tinge of red tried to dodge, but the dragon’s claw caught him on the back and sent him spinning to the ground.
He coughed out some smoke and yelled, “Hey, what gives?!” He looked annoyed at the fact that his opponent wasn’t just letting him hit her. Pyro rushed at the figure, hands wreathed in flames.  The girl charged too, but she did not have any obvious dangers about her.  She flung herself sideways at the last second, and summoned living ice sculptures.  Pyro looked back at Zalin in fury.  His scarlet hair seemed to be on fire as the sun caught it with its golden rays, making the scene even more ridiculous.  “Oh, now you’ve done it!!!”  He skidded to a halt and rushed at Zalin again, but not before Dragons of living ice tackled him, thirty pounds of pure cold on his shoulders. 
Zalin summoned her avatar again, looking even more sinister, “Submit if you don’t want frostbite for a month.” She relaxed for a second, “Or I could give you a frozen head.” she mused.
“Yes, that’d be quite nice.” He grumbled sarcastically.
“We have a winner!” howled the announcer and he hiccuped.

“HEY! Wait up dude!” panted a smaller figure as he got ever closer to Zalin.  She slowed down and allowed the boy to catch up.  The boy clad in Ocean blue hugged Zalin. 
“What’d you do now you little ice spike?”  The boy was an angel...most of the time.  There was that one time when he...nevermind! 
“Well, I trolled a bully who cornered a pedestrian,” he chuckled.  His blueberry-blue eyes that were too big for his face sparkled with mischief.  “How’s the cold shoulder?” 
Zalin rubbed her right arm. “Yeah, its cool.” She looked away. ‘although, I could be better.’ she shrugged. “but I could start by going into-”
The boy held up his hand. “Stop. Just stop. You’re not serious are you? You just beat a fire guy and now you wanna go into a, a...”
She peeled him off of her leg. “Meet me at the Zendarin Academy. Do whatever you want okay, Tarnikal?” With that, Zalin rushed towards her destiny.

She silently opened the door to the giant structure and did the opposite after.  She glanced around. Creamy tan walls with olive brown pillars surrounded her. A hallway was suspended above the lower floor.  A brawl had broken out, and by the looks of it, it was between a Fire and Ice spiritist.  Steam was rising out of the middle of the crowd, results of the two elements clashing. 
Zalin rolled her eyes; she knew who would come out on top...at least in her opinion.  She quickly found a nice, secluded corner, sat, and began to read.  She startled as someone, up on the balcony overlooking the Main Hall, shouted, “Stop and you’ll have food for as long as you’re here, and if you do not, you won’t have dessert for the next year!”
The two froze in mid-strike.  “No Fire Fritos?!” moaned the one with reddish-brown hair. 
“No Frost Bars?” grumbled the one with very pale, nearly white hair.  Zalin perked up at that sentence. ‘I like frost bars, too.’ She melted her book, which was Ice as well, and sat up.
Apparently, the little guy who threatened the fighters, was going to call a meeting anyway. To her dismay, all the students gathered around her little temporary territory. She huddled in the dark, dank corner, hoping that the students would not notice the slight temperature change.  As the tiny little man continued talking, she heard a few murmurs arise from the group; “Brr, it’s cold over here..or is that just me...” , “Fali! Turn it down a notch will ‘ya?”
And someone who must’ve been this, ‘Fali’ snapped back, “Hmph, it ain't me. Blame Dark Matter boy over there!” and then “Hey!”
It didn’t take long for everyone to start talking about this particular subject.  “Quiet down, NOW!” boomed the little man. Everyone shut up, but then turned their heads at the source of the chill, straight at Zalin.
  Twenty pairs of eyes, trained right on her.  She shrunk back into the dark corner, hoping the shadows would swallow her whole.  The tiny man or, Master, as they all knew him, beckoned to the figure in the shadows: Zalin. 
‘They notice me. May as well make an entrance.’ She turned her palms down to the floor and two ice sculptures rose, crackling from sudden exposure to the warm air, their slick surfaces glimmering in the torch-light.  She spoke a few Divine words and a huge silver-blue dragon enveloped her, blazing and shimmering.  She flexed her huge wings and limbs, and unleashed a blood-curdling roar.  She hissed, still in her avatar, “My name is Zalin, Spirit of Ice, First to defeat a Fire Spiritist in mortal combat!” 
The unusually small old man slowly stood and inched towards the figure standing in the center of the avatar.  “You may stop. But may I ask, how are you doing this? Even Falidas cannot complete this task.” A complaint arose from the crowd.  The Master gave the complainer a glare, and he fell silent.  “As I was saying, I have not seen this combination before. Not just anyone can do this. Who mentored you?” 
Zalin knew what everyone’s reaction would be: shock, admiration, and maybe even a touch of fear.  With this knowledge, she spoke quietly, but just loud enough for everyone to hear, her dragon avatar’s jaws moving in synch with her own, “I am an Ice Spiritist. My true mentor was Matrix, Queen of the Forbidden Frostlands.
She was right. Zalin was avoided for the rest of the day by everyone. Well, almost everyone. Fali, the other Ice guy, tried to talk to Zalin, but was pushed away every time.  Eventually, Zalin requested an unused dorm, and it was given to her right away.  Icy blue rugs, banners, sheets, towels, you name it, was present in the freezing dorm. Zalin had spoken a beginner’s spell that kept the room at a certain temperature: at or below 32 degrees. There were shards of icicles hanging down from the dull brown ceiling, results of Zalin’s spell. You would want to wear a coat or jacket when visiting, not that you’d ever want to.
One day, Fali decided to welcome Zalin to the Academy, being the nice guy he is. “Fali, where are you going?” questioned Irneas, a fire spiritist.
Fali walked backwards as he responded, “Well, I wanna say hi to the new student.”
Irneas snickered, “Right, good luck with that. Have you seen how well she socializes with others?”
*A day earlier* “Nice ice baby.” commented Irneas.
“Go away, hot-head!” growled Zalin from inside her dorm.
“Aw come on, don’t do that. You know deep down, that you want to get out there, and show ‘em what you’ve got!” 
Silence. “Yes you are quite right, Toasted Brains, you’d want me to show you what I have up my sleeve.” Zalin mused.
Irneas bowed to the door, “Thank you my, uh, Cool Girl...wait what?” with that, Zalin slammed open the door to her dorm and shouted a command, and Irneas’s head, was now encased in ice.
“Cool off, will ya?” chuckled Zalin.
*Back to present day*  “Right, that. But I’m an Ice elementalist, I’d think that maybe she’d have more, patience for someone like me.”
Irneas grumbled, “Yeah, someone like you.”
Falidas dismissed this comment. “Well, wish me luck,” and he whisked towards Zalin’s dorm.