Page 14 of The Enchanted Frost

As I tried to lose myself in the process, memories of Blanche’s life kept intruding, the image of her as a child blurring with the cold indifference of the woman she had become. The frost I created seemed less like art and more like a bitter reminder of the lives it had claimed. Every detail I tried to focus on brought me back to that alley, to the children I had found, and to the terrible connection between them and Blanche.

Time usually held little meaning for me, but as I heard the soft patter of Blanche’s increasingly familiar footsteps, I instinctively knew it had been nearly four hours since I’d last seen her. A mere blink of my existence, but with her numbered days it likely seemed much longer to her.

When she appeared, a wave of unexpected compassion washed over me. Despite the anger and confusion that had gripped me earlier, I now saw her as a victim of circumstances—much like the street urchins were victims of a different tragedy. Viewing Blanche’s life had helped me realize that she had never known true compassion, a product of her upbringing in her treatment of others. While she still held responsibility for her actions, my heart tugged in pity at the realization that she had been starved of love, just as cruelly as the children she’d ignored had been starved of food.

Blanche stepped into the room softly, pausing in the doorway, her widened eyes taking in the haphazard piles that had accumulated during my hours of distracted creation. She picked up one of the balls of ice, turning it over in her hands before her questioning gaze met mine. “A hailstone?”

I startled, only now realizing how drastically I’d veered off course from my initial intention to prepare for a gentle snowfall. “I originally meant to create snowflakes…but it appears my creativity has a mind of its own.”

The corner of her lips twitched, as if trying to remember how to smile after having forgotten how. “It appears the mystery of one natural phenomenon has been solved: every winter storm is at the mercy of your mood.” Her humor managed to cut through the tension that thickened the frosty air.

“I’m not in a bad mood.” But my hardened tone contradicted my insistence, as did the piles of ice, the result of myunfocused efforts—hailstones that would likely lead to unexpected and severe storms in several unfortunate villages.

She bit her lip. “Is it my fault?”

Her unexpected question caught me off guard, lifting me briefly from my cloud of gloom. “Why would my current preference for hail be your fault?”

She shifted uneasily, her gaze dropping to the floor as she answered. “Because of…what you witnessed from my life. You know now that you’re wasting your effort to help someone who doesn’t deserve it—there’s no value in extending your life by obtaining a tainted soul.” Remorse clouded her grey eyes, such a stark contrast to the superior disdain she’d exhibited towards the urchins in her memories.

“The state of the souls I claim has no bearing on the amount of life they give me; only the years they spent living add to my own.”

As I spoke I realized this wasn’t entirely true—there was something abouthersoul in particular that stirred mine in a way no other human’s had, an influence that extended beyond the frosted windowpanes I had once created for her.

That connection, though fragile in the face of her indifference towards the urchins, was still stronger than the disappointment I felt. Something deeper existed between us; I wanted to explore whatever it was, even as a part of me feared doing so.

Her brow furrowed. “Then why did you leave so suddenly? It was as if you could no longer bear to watch the life of someone so horrible.”

Deep down, I knew the real reason I had prematurely cut off the memories of her life wasn’t due to her icy behavior but rather my impending dread of witnessing the course that led to her inevitable end—a ridiculous reaction considering she was already trapped in death’s clutches, a fate no amount of magic could rescue her from.

My heart gave a strange twinge that I hastily tried to suppress.I have no reason to feel this way about a mere mortal.

The power I had always relied upon couldn’t provide an answer to this most perplexing riddle, nor could I find it in the decorative carvings and frosty murals adorning the icy walls—a chronicle of my existence that spanned back to the creation of time itself. For all my magical knowledge, nothing had prepared me for this complex, bewildering relationship with the mortal whose soul was proving so difficult to obtain.

She must have mistaken my extended silence for confirmation of her fears. Her composure faltered. “With what you witnessed in my treatment of the less fortunate, it’s no wonder fate caused my life to turn out the way it did.” She gave a self-deprecating, hollow laugh that belied the despair paining her expression.

I carefully considered my next words. “If fate were truly the determiner of one’s destiny, then the bad would always be punished and the good rewarded. But the human experience is far more complex than that.”

Confusion puckered her brow. “Then why else would I find myself in the very position I once belittled others for, if not as cosmic repayment for what I’ve done?”

Unfortunately I had no answer to give. While I’d been able to gather several clues from her recollections I’d seen so far, I’d ended the showcase before figuring out what regret held her back or the event that had caused her life to take such a drastic turn…though by the agony clouding her eyes, I could guess that her cruel actions weighed heavily upon her soul, preventing her from forgiving herself to move forward. Whether that regret was what held her soul captive or something else, with so little time left there was no sense in wasting our limited moments together bearing a grudge against her.

I rested a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She flinched at my icy touch before relaxing. Her warmth seeped over my frozen fingers, rippling up my arm to encircle my heart, stoking my sudden yearning to do anything to dispel the despair etched on her features.

“One mistake or moment of regret doesn’t lessen the value of a soul.”

I yearned to offer more than a few paltry words in comfort, but my monotonous, duty-filled existence had given me little reason to experience true regret. My soul had been stagnant for eternity—never changing, stretching, or growing—a stark contrast to the woman she’d become compared to who she’d once been. To think I would ever envy a mortal in anything should have been laughable, yet it didn’t change the fact that I would sacrifice years of my eternity for such an experience.

Beneath the layers of ice and frost that encased my heart, there was a warmth I had long forgotten, a part of me that cared not just about winter and magic but about the fragile life standing before me. For the first time in my timeless existence, I felt the rare pressure of urgency. With so little time left, I had to focus on making the last part of her life meaningful, no matter how short it was.

The weight of my decision settled over me. In doing so, I might lose a part of myself—perhaps even my powers—but the sacrifice felt insignificant compared to the chance to give her peace…and maybe even find a fragment of meaning for my own existence.

As if my powers sensed my unspoken wish, my magic suddenly stirred, summoning the mystical hourglass carved from ice that only I could see. It was always present, hovering on the edges of my awareness until I had a reason to pay attention to it. I’d sensed it niggling my thoughts throughout my interactions with Blanche, but I’dsubconsciously chosen to ignore it for reasons my heart understood but my mind didn’t.

I cast the hourglass a tentative glance before allowing it to completely fill my awareness—its measurement allowed me know when to acquire the souls that fell under my jurisdiction, and at this moment it showcased the only mortal present. Even with her trapped in this state of in-between, the snow that represented the sand of a regular hourglass was precariously close to running out…meaning she had very little time remaining for me to figure out what was holding her back in order to help her move on.

Though I served as my own master with magic as my faithful servant always performing my bidding, death was a force my powers couldn’t challenge. Any attempt to manipulate the natural laws that governed Earth risked my place as the King of Winter and could bring all manner of chaos into the world. Yet though I knew I was playing a dangerous game, I had crossed the point of no return; it was too late to stop.

How could I possibly claim the soul of the little girl who had first brought me true joy in my existence?

---