Let me tell you, as of 2026, there are few things in the Lands Between that make me feel as utterly, terrifyingly powerful as summoning the very breath of an ancient, frozen dragon. It's not just another spell; it's a declaration of dominance, a blizzard made manifest at my command. While other Tarnished are fumbling with their glintstone pebbles, I'm channeling the fury of Borealis, the Freezing Fog himself, turning entire battlefields into glittering, frostbitten graveyards. This isn't just an incantation; it's a force of nature that I stole from a god-like beast, and using it feels like holding a miniature, controlled blizzard in the palm of my hand.

My journey to claim this power began in the most inhospitable corner of the map: the snowy mountains and their northern frozen lake. The moment I arrived, the air itself seemed to crystallize, and a thick, obscuring fog clung to the landscape like a stubborn, frozen ghost. And there he was, Borealis, the Freezing Fog—a dragon who didn't just live in the cold; he was the cold. Fighting him was like trying to wrestle a sentient avalanche. His attacks were familiar in their draconic grandeur, but his signature breath weapon was something else. It wasn't just fire or lightning; it was a concentrated stream of pure, ancient winter that piled on frostbite build-up faster than I could say "chill out." My trusty steed, Torrent, was the only reason I didn't become a permanent ice sculpture on that lake. The battle was a chaotic dance in the mist, but when he finally fell, the fog lifted, revealing a clear, conquered arena. It was a victory as crisp and satisfying as the air itself.

With the dragon's heart in my possession—a trophy still pulsing with glacial energy—my next stop was the Dragon Communion Alter. This place always gives me chills (and not just from the decor). Interacting with that eerie, burning basin beneath the petrified dragon corpse, I traded my hard-won spoils. Securing Borealis' Mist required a total of two dragon hearts. One was from Borealis; the other I'd pried from a different overgrown lizard earlier in my travels. A small price for absolute power.

Now, let's talk about wielding this beauty. The stat requirements are no joke: 23 Faith and 15 Arcane are needed just to memorize it. Casting it costs a hefty 48 FP, and the animation locks you in place for what feels like an eternity—or at least long enough for an enemy to brew a cup of tea and plan your demise. But oh, the payoff! When I unleash it, my character summons a colossal, spectral dragon head that exhales a torrent of shimmering, pale blue mist.

Here’s why it’s my go-to for crowd control:

• Damage Type: Pure, unadulterated magic damage.

• Status Effect: Massive frostbite build-up on anything caught in the cloud.

• Flexibility: You can pivot while casting, sweeping the breath across the battlefield like a frozen lighthouse beam.

• Sustainability: You can channel it continuously for more damage and frostbite, though it turns your FP bar into a quickly melting ice cube.

Comparing it to its weaker cousin, Dragonice, is like comparing a gentle snowfall to a polar vortex. Borealis' Mist is the superior option in every way, dealing significantly more damage. Its true genius shines against large groups of enemies. Seeing a horde of Albinaurics or Misbegotten charging from a distance doesn't scare me anymore. I just plant my feet, start the incantation, and watch them run headfirst into a wall of instant winter. By the time they reach me, they're either dead or moving as slow as a glacier, ready for a final, merciful strike.

Mastering this incantation has changed my playstyle completely. It’s my ultimate area-denial tool, my panic button against swarms, and my favorite way to style on bosses weak to magic and frost. In the ever-evolving meta of Elden Ring, claiming the breath of Borealis remains one of the most satisfying power trips a Faith/Arcane build can experience. It’s not just a spell; it’s a statement: winter is here, and I brought it with me.