Page 1 of The Enchanted Frost

CHAPTER 1

Blanche

The world had drained of color, as if winter had cloaked it in dark hues that mirrored the dreariness pressing against my heart that dampened my spirit beyond redemption. My breath rose in visible puffs, mingling with the clouded sky above. Ice crackled beneath my feet with each weary step, the muddy sleet squelching through my worn shoes, soaking them through entirely and submerging my toes in fresh chill, though my feet were so numb I scarcely felt it.

The streets were shrouded in a damp, dismal mist, and the bitter wind cut through my threadbare shawl, its icy fingers threatening to tear it from my shivering frame. Desperately, I clutched it closer in a feeble effort to shield myself from the frigid air, but the thin layer offered little protection against the relentless chill—a coldness that served as a cruel reminder that I was still alive…somehow.

The frost nipped at my gloveless hands, numbing my fingers until they ceased to bend properly. It took all mystrength to maintain my hold on the basket of matches whose contents hadn’t diminished despite my exhausting efforts to sell them.

My frozen fingers curled painfully around a scant handful, my thumb habitually tracing their wooden length—a gesture that I performed every hour, my only means of marking time. The number remained unchanging, a silent testament to my failure that reminded me with increasing severity that my chances of survival were dwindling.

I stared blankly at the thin matches clutched in my stiff hand, their presence almost condemning in the dim light. Slowly, I took in the empty streets, devoid of any potential customers. Everyone had taken refuge from the encroaching night, leaving me alone with my despair.

A sigh escaped, forming a wispy cloud in the cold air. Tonight’s hunger would be inescapable, as constant as the biting cold that had become an extension of myself, marking yet another endless day without food, the kind that occurred so often I’d long since lost count.

As I passed by a decorated store window, my gaunt reflection caught my eye—sunken cheeks and hollow eyes stared back at me. Just beyond the glass lay a row of baked goods, sugar-frosted buns, and raisin-studded gingerbread I’d once enjoyed regularly. The sight awakened my ravaging stomach, a gnawing hunger that twisted with resentment as fierce as the cold seeping through my stiff limbs; the frigid elements were nothing to the bitterness encasing my heart.

How had my life come to this?

Resentment stirred dormant memories, resurrecting buried fragments I wanted nothing more than to forget. A year hadn’t been long enough to process the events that had shattered my life; even if I could understand them, no amount of comprehension would bring peace to the twist offate that had trapped me in the cruel circumstances in which I now found myself entangled.

Flashes of memory drifted in and out of my thoughts like the icy wind, a haunting dance of the past with my present—glimmers of splendor and abundance, once so familiar, contrasted sharply with the stark poverty now defining my existence. I could almost hear the echoes of laughter and see the carefree smiles that once filled my days with sunshine and warmth before they faded into the deafening silence of the winter night pressing around me. The bright hopes I’d nurtured for a promising future now lay shattered, cracked like the ice beneath my feet.

It wasn’t the symbols of my wealth that I missed, but the simple pleasures I hadn’t appreciated until they were snatched away—the soothing heat from the fireplace whose golden glow chased away the chill that now seemed permanently lodged in my bones; the comforting scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchens, where there was always more than enough to eat; an entire wardrobe of warm clothes and a bed to sleep in; days spent in idle comfort, free from the pressing worry of survival. That time felt like a lifetime ago, a distant dream that had dissolved into the harsh reality of constant hunger and cold biting at my skin.

I once had a future brimming with promise, but those dreams had become nothing more than brittle fragments, trampled by the relentless march of time and cruel circumstance. The bitter chill of the night had seeped into my soul, turning my hopes to ice and leaving only the hollow shell of the person I once was.

My footing slipped on the slick path, forcing my attention back to the present. The need to stay upright reluctantly pulled me from the dreary reminiscences that, for all their pain, had at least provided a fleeting escape from my cruel reality, offering me a rare semblance of refuge.

Fog swirled through the streets as the hour grew later, shrouding the cobblestones in a misty haze. Dim candlelight flickered from the windows of the buildings I passed, the blinds not yet drawn in some. They glowed with rich color, a stark contrast to the darkness enveloping me. Envy stirred my frozen heart with each glimpse of the cozy warmth lying beyond my reach, as distant as an impossible dream.

The frozen darkness deepened as the night wore on, leaving me so cold and weary that I felt as if I’d become one of the bare trees lining the avenue whose frozen, lifeless limbs stretched towards the starless sky. Yet even with exhaustion weighing down my limbs, I had no choice but to press on if I wished to survive.

I scanned the streets for any potential customers, desperately hoping for a shred of pity that might allow me to eat. The area was nearly empty, and the few people who remained passed by without a glance, having no reason to notice the forlorn beggar in the street. Those who basked in warmth and comfort lived in a world entirely separate from mine, one that had no need for the matches that were my only means of survival.

Their cold indifference contained a haunting familiarity, one that echoed beyond the usual disregard I faced. My memory flickered, once more conjuring visions from a distant past that now felt like a faded dream. The frigid night had frozen my thoughts, but I managed to piece together a few broken fragments: a version of myself adorned in rich velvet and glistening jewels, lifting my nose at the urchins too insignificant for my esteemed notice.

That once-familiar reflection now seemed like a stranger, someone I couldn’t reconcile with the wretchedness that had befallen me. I was too drained to feel shame at the reminder of my past cruelty, the cold and hunger overwhelming every other emotion.

Fate was a vengeful force indeed.

Footsteps suddenly sounded on the path behind me. I half-turned to see a gentleman, fur hat snug over his head and arms laden with parcels, hurrying through the streets with his head bowed against the wind. I managed to rouse myself just enough to extend my frozen hand. “Sir, would you like to buy—”

He rushed past without a word, his elbow brushing against me in his haste. The jolt sent my precious matches spilling across the frozen cobblestones. Mud and snow soaked my skirt as I crouched to gather them, too tired to muster the withering glare in the departing man’s direction I once might have given.

I glanced up just long enough to see his unique gait as he hurried towards his warm home. A glimmer of recognition stirred, a fleeting image of the same man standing before me at a grand ball, his hand extended hopefully, while I dismissed him with a scornful laugh and brushed past him. Now he was the one who couldn’t spare a glance for me.

I shook my head to dispel the thought. I couldn’t afford to reminisce when my livelihood lay perishing on the snowy ground. I retrieved each match, handling them as carefully as precious jewels. The gesture stirred another recollection from my foggy past—of the gemstones and jewelry I used to own. Yet now, these matches were far more valuable with all they represented, not mere luxury but the difference between life and death.

My relief was short-lived when I counted my retrieved matches over and over, each time coming up one short. Panic swelled as my eyes scanned the dim street, searching desperately for the missing match…only to find it broken and trodden underfoot a meter away, now useless.

I collapsed to my knees in defeat, staring blankly at the splintered shards. No matter how much I willed it, theywouldn’t come back together—a cruel reminder that no matter the amount of labor I rendered, nothing could restore my life to what it had once been.

Normally my mind was as numb as my chilled body, but my thoughts had trodden the familiar path of regret too often. I followed the familiar grooves my frequent reminiscence had carved, revisiting each dreadful event that had led to my current circumstances. The exhibit of my past hadn’t changed since my world had shattered, but my previous bitterness at my fate gradually faded as exhaustion and hunger took their toll; regrets paled in significance when each breath was a fight for survival.

A sudden chill brushed my cheek as frosty snowflakes gathered on my eyelids. I blinked and slowly lifted my face to the sky, from whence snow had begun to fall, quickly accumulating to blanket the slumbering world around me. The few remaining potential customers in the streets hurried to take refuge, robbing me of my last chance to earn enough for even a meager meal, marking yet another night of hunger.

The gnawing emptiness in my stomach had grown too accustomed to this fate to protest; sleep would be my only reprieve. I shakily rose and trudged through the snow in search of a place to pass the bitter night. Darkness had fully settled by the time my wanderings took me to an abandoned alley, and while the towering walls offered some protection from the snow, they did little against the cold that seemed to deepen within the gathering shadows’ slithery reach.

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