Page 23 of The Enchanted Frost

After she ate, I noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes, a sign that despite the night’s rest in the cave, she was still exhausted. “Would you like to rest for a while?” I suggested.

At her nod, despite her protests that she could find it on her own without difficulty, I led her to the room where the embers of the magical fire still glowed, flickering in the hearth. I added some fresh wood, and then found myself hovering close as she curled up in front of the warm flames, pulling my cloak over her shoulders. As I took slow steps towards the door, my feet paused almost of their own accord, just before I could leave the room.

Blanche sleepily lifted her head to give me a questioning look. My mind raced, searching for an explanation thatwasn’t admitting I just wanted to stay with her and watch her fall asleep.

“Let me adjust the cloak to more fully cover you.” I twitched it half an inch over her feet, pretending that it made a difference.

When I looked back at her face, I found her still watching me, her lips curving softly upward and her eyes filled with trust that caught me by surprise. For a moment our gazes held in a quiet, unspoken understanding, until she whispered a gentle, “Thank you,” before nestling deeper into the cloak.

I shifted awkwardly, knowing I should leave, yet I struggled to part from her. As her eyes fluttered shut, I felt an undeniable pull, a quiet, inescapable desire to be closer to her. Without thinking, I leaned down and gently pressed my lips to her forehead.

She sighed softly but didn’t open her eyes. I leapt back, horrified. Had I truly been so overcome with emotion that I’d kissed amortal?And worse, had I done it when she was vulnerable, unable to refuse because she hadn’t seen me coming?

I stood over her, turmoil swirling inside me, yet at the same time a strange sense of peace settled over me, an emotion that only seemed to exist when I was near her. I thought I noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips. With great effort, I tore myself away, forcing my feet to carry me from the room and into the frigid air of the castle courtyard to see how the rest of my domain fared.

Outside, I was met with another shock. The wind had changed—a mild chinook blew, making the cold air almost bearable, another troubling sign that the world was shifting to spring, as if the very castle itself were trying to thaw despite winter’s claim.

I frowned at the patches of brown, damp earth breaking through the white, and the rivers and streams that had beenfrozen solid but were now beginning to flow, the faint gurgle of water beneath the ice signaling the return of life—something that had no place in my eternal winter.

I could no longer deny that my powers were waning, allowing spring to encroach upon my domain. If I couldn’t restore winter, the consequences would ripple through the natural world and the magical realms. The seasonal rhythm could be thrown off balance, leading to unpredictable weather patterns, prolonged warmth, and even the collapse of the seasonal cycle itself.

With the absence of winter, the environment would suffer: certain plant species might overgrow, disrupting animal hibernation cycles. Plants and animals that relied on the cold could face extinction, and mortals, their agriculture, and their way of life would be threatened by the extremes of a world out of balance.

Spring…a sudden idea sparked. Though each of the Guardians of the Seasons respected the delicate balance of our domains too much to seriously encroach on another’s domain, Daisy—the sprightly and mischievous being that ruled Spring—was notorious for her love of pranks. Could it be that this sudden warming was nothing more than one of her elaborate jokes?

As if in answer to my thoughts, a thick curl of green pushed through a bare patch of soil before me, unfurling to reveal the purple blossoms of a crocus. Clenching my teeth, I plucked it from the ground and froze it with a sharp burst of power. Drawing deeper from my magic, I crafted a thin sheet of ice that shimmered with a frosty design not of vines or scrollwork, but with etched words, demanding to know if Daisy was the cause of this unwelcome intrusion in my kingdom.

I froze the crocus to the letter, infusing it with extra power to ensure it wouldn’t melt as it left my domain, andwith a great effort summoned a wind. To my dismay, what came was a gentle breeze rather than the snow-laden blast I had envisioned. Nevertheless, it carried the note away, vanishing in the direction of Spring. I collapsed to the muddy ground, gasping from the exertion. Minutes passed before I could regain my composure and stand, squinting at the distant horizon where my message had blown.

I paced impatiently, but soon realized I couldn’t afford to merely wait. The urgency of my fears stoked my desperation, compelling me to take action. I had already fallen behind in my usual winter preparations due to the time I’d spent caring for my unexpected mortal guest. Now I had to expend even more exhausting effort to recast ancient spells that maintained the icy barriers of my castle and the perpetual winter of my domain. Some of the more complex incantations, rituals, and artifact uses required me to look them up, given how long it had been since I’d needed to wield such powerful magic.

I spent hours reinforcing the structure of my castle, creating new ice pillars, walls, and fortifications to patch up the areas where the ice was eroding. The spells managed to mend several sections that had begun to melt, but I was unsure how long they would hold before weakening again. Despite my efforts, a nagging doubt lingered, making me fear I was fighting a losing battle against something far beyond my control.

I unleashed powerful snowstorms across my domain, desperate to freeze everything solid once again, trying to bury any signs of spring beneath fresh layers of snow. But even as the storms raged, I knew they weren’t enough. I tried to summon the fierce, howling gales that had once obeyed my command with a mere thought, but when I reached for that power, all I found was a dull ache in my chest. The wind came, but this time it was weak, a mere whisper of what itshould have been, and it did nothing to deter the encroaching warmth.

I moved to the edge of the frozen lake, the sky above dark and heavy with the thick clouds I’d summoned to block the sun. Yet no matter how much I willed it, the warmth still seeped through, stubbornly defying my efforts. I raised my hand, willing the frost to creep over the thawing ice and coat the surface in a solid sheet of white to halt the progression of spring, an effort that drained me more than it ever had before. For a moment, it obeyed—thin veins of ice spread outward from my fingertips, reclaiming the lake. But then the ice faltered and began to recede, melting away before my eyes.

Exhaustion hit me like a wave, and I had to catch myself on the trunk of a nearby pine to keep from collapsing. My chest heaved, each breath more labored than the last, the cold air resistant, as if it too were slipping from my grasp. The frost that usually danced in the air around me had diminished, barely clinging to my presence.

What was happening to me?

I tried to collect myself, but the world around me tilted, spinning slightly as if rejecting my very presence. The cold that served as my strength and my identity was slipping away, just like the ice that now melted at my touch. My heart pounded in a frantic rhythm and I couldn’t catch my breath, suffocating in the very element that had once been my sanctuary.

As I bent over, fighting for breath, a warm breeze carrying the sweet scent of daffodils caressed my cheek. Floating towards me was a small scroll of birch bark, tied with a fresh yellow bloom that remained vibrant in the ever more temperate air.

Snatching it up, I hastily tore the daffodil away andunrolled the bark, hoping for an explanation…but the few lines that greeted me made my heart sink.

Frost, I appreciate your belief that I have both time and magic to spare in tormenting you while I’m preparing the world for Spring’s arrival, but whatever is ailing your kingdom must be your doing, not mine. Daisy

I crumpled the scroll, frustration tightening in my chest. If this wasn’t Daisy’s handiwork or anyone else’s magic either, the answer had to lie within me. I simply needed to regain control. I clenched my fists, willing my power to return, but all I felt was the sting of defeat creeping in like the warmth I’d fought so hard to keep at bay. Winter was slipping away from me, and with it everything I’d ever known, the power that once defined me now feeling like a distant memory.

I’d been created to be Winter’s keeper, to protect the force that sustained the balance between life and death, cold and warmth. Yet now I watched my realm thaw before my very eyes. With every patch of melting snow and droplet of ice that dripped from my formerly impenetrable castle, I felt my purpose slipping away; the winter I’d nurtured and the world I’d shaped across the expanse of forever was unraveling, and no matter how much I tried to regain control, I couldn’t seem to hold it together.

I closed my eyes, trying to center myself, but all I could feel was the warmth on the horizon, an unstoppable force that no amount of willpower could hold back. It brought with it the inescapable truth I would do anything to deny: spring was coming, and I feared I was powerless to stop it. I was supposed to be Winter incarnate, the eternal, immortal embodiment of cold, but now, with spring encroaching upon my realm, I had never felt so human.

As I staggered back to my ice castle, exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders, and a chilling realization settledover me, insidious and undeniable—the frost that once responded effortlessly to my will was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The unnatural thaw in my realm pointed to one source, the catalyst that had set this chain of unwanted events in motion.

Her.

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