"Falling, sinking deeper and deeper into the uncharted abyss..." Date: 15 February 2026 A PV with: @Cecilia Merrick, @Frederick Buckley, @Leo Noxley, @Lucille Rosenhart, @Rosaline Everhart

Koldovstoretz was beautiful. Snow as white as a fair dove’s plumage enveloped every inch of the campus, the vast expanse of nature and modest infrastructure painted into it into a winter wonderland. Even after the dizzying transportation via portkey, the reality of such beauty remained unchanged. He would be skating on that gorgeous and glistening frozen lake very soon, and he would be treated to a beautiful Siberian winter view every time he emerged from shelter for the next few days. His mother was right about her Alma mater: Koldovstoretz looked like freedom. At the back of his mind, Erast thought that he would’ve loved it here, if his introduction to Koldovstoretz hadn't gone the way it did.

Brushing the memory of that day aside, Erast remembered his task, and turned to head northwest of Lake Bear where the residential yurts were located.

Erast felt an unusual burst of energy from knowing that he’ll be staying with his friends in a yurt for the duration of the International Magical Olympic Games. Even with the awkward presence of Noxley, he couldn't help the small shy smile forming on his lips at the idea.

Growing up, he never had anyone to talk to apart from his sisters and the starry night sky, much less friends to host. Erast had read countless scenes in his novels where young characters would hole up in a bedroom for a night and do all sorts of fun things together. The novels described good friends having snacks, listening to music, and staying up late chatting about everything under the sky. It all sounded so fun! His upbringing should have taught him better than to rejoice at such a dangerous sleeping arrangement, but he would be with friends. True friends, like his books said, wouldn't do things like sabotage and assassinations.

Spotting their yurt from a distance, Erast carefully weaved through the crowd of students to get to the door of the yurt. The idea of a yurt felt strange. He supposed it was an upgrade from what he knew as a tent, but a whole door in what otherwise would be a temporary structure made with no sturdy material was baffling. Would it fall in him?

Knocking thrice, Erast entered slowly, his lips forming a soft apology and saying the duration of their stay to any who may hear. He had to blink to see properly in the dimly-lit yurt, but once he did, he almost gasped from the dreamy sight. Piles upon piles of soft, fluffy pillows were scattered across the yurt floors. The floors almost felt like gelatine under his boots, and he smiled at the pretty sight of the night skies decorating its surface. It was like something out of a children's book.

Erast glanced around at the strange beds around him, curious about how they stacked atop each other like comfortable, spacious shelves in a way he has never seen before. It must be a Muggle style of furniture.

Counting if they had enough of these bed shelves, he thought about his friends. Would the others like to pick their bed? Have they arrived safely? He eyed a bottom bunk, closest to where Orion decorated the floor. Hesitantly, he patted the mattress and placed his trunk at the foot of the it. It felt quite rude to pick before the others had a say, so he decided that if his friends wanted the bunk he had picked, he would offer it up later. Fiddling with a fluffy blue pillow, Erast wondered if he should tidy up the pillows for his friends. It was quite the tripping hazard...

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| Location: Residencial yurts | Date: 15/02/26 | Word count: 383 |
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For an eleven-year-old wizard boy, what could be more fun than going on a school trip with a bunch of friends to take part in the International Magical Olympic Games? For Frederick Buckley, as he arrived at Koldovstoretz, nothing could possibly be better. The young boy couldn’t decide what excited him the most: visiting Russia’s magical school, playing winter sports, experiencing a new culture, causing a bit of mischief at the camp, or all of those things at once.

The opening ceremony seemed to pass in a flash. There were so many new things to take in, and the completely frozen landscape, covered in thick layers of soft, white snow, was so striking that Frederick struggled to focus on the important information. Still amazed, he headed toward the residential yurts, hoping to reunite with his group and share their first impressions of the trip. On the way, he tried to imagine what those tent-like dwellings would be like, where he would sleep during his stay, but nothing quite prepared him for the real thing.

As he stepped inside, his travel backpack hanging from his right shoulder, Fred froze for a few seconds, taking in the sight before him. The yurt looked completely padded, even the floor, and it contained more cushions than he had ever seen in one place, all in shades of blue and purple. There were bunk beds, with exactly the right number of beds for their group of seven people, and a huge mountain of pillows piled up in the center. With a small start, the boy finally noticed that someone else had already arrived.

Looking toward Erast, who was sitting on the lower bunk, Frederick broke into a wide grin. After taking a few steps forward and dropping his backpack onto the floor, he spread his arms as if he were about to hug him from across the room. Still looking at his friend, Fred suddenly quickened his pace and ran forward... only to throw himself onto the mountain of pillows! Before he could sink completely into the pile of purple cushions, Fred called out enthusiastically, “Erast!” When he resurfaced, he finished his sentence, “You made it! What an amazing place this is!” he said rhetorically, still sprawled across the central pillow pit. “Did you have a nice trip?”

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| Interacting with: @Erast Yan @Cecilia Merrick @Leo Noxley @Lucille Rosenhart @Rosaline Everhart |