Snowflakes: A Snow Queen Short Story Collection Page 9
Farrin tapped his speed magic and was back in the middle of their group in a few moments. He swung up on his horse, who snorted at his abrupt arrival, and scanned their party. He was pleasantly surprised when Tenebris caught his gaze and gestured for him to join him at the front of the group.
Kavon raised an eyebrow at Farrin when he drew his horse alongside Tenebris’s, but Kavon turned his mount in a circle and addressed the other magic users. “Everyone, back into formation. Scouts, this time you had best do your job properly!” His charming smile held a slight glitter of a threat as he inspected the ranks the magic users scrambled into.
“That was tidy work out there,” Tenebris said, drawing Farrin’s attention away from the party.
“Thank you, sir,” Farrin said.
Tenebris leaned back in the saddle and smiled, making his hooded eyes crinkle. “You are undoubtedly the strongest warrior I have welcomed into my ranks—even though you were barely more than a boy when I freed you. But you’ve gotten even better since then.”
Farrin smiled at the praise. “I will do everything in my power to be your defender.”
Tenebris chuckled. “Thank you, though I’m afraid you can’t always be at my side.”
Farrin wiped his smile from his face. “Why?”
“Our little rag-tag group is growing. We’ll have to divide up soon. Don’t give me that look, Runt; we’ll all be united, still. But tactically speaking, we’ll be able to strike faster and more often if we split our forces. One day, you’ll lead a group in my name.”
Farrin stared at his horse’s ears, though his heart threatened to burst with pride. Tenebris wanted him, a bloodied gladiator, to lead one day! “Thank you, sir.”
Tenebris shrugged. “You’ve done well. And I can see it in your eyes—you’ve the makings of a leader. Just see to it you’re the right kind of leader.”
“Of course.” Farrin bowed his head. “I will do my best.”
“Don’t worry needlessly about it, Runt. It’ll be a bit before I gather a force for you—there’s a specific group I’d like you to lead, and frankly we don’t have enough magic users who fall into that category right now. But in the meantime, I’ve got something for you.” Tenebris removed a small suede pouch from a saddle bag and held it out.
Farrin swallowed thickly and took the gift. He undid the strings tying it shut and pulled out a tiny wolf sculpture made of jade.
“I’m not much of one for fancy things,” Tenebris said. “But I saw this, and I thought of you. It seemed fitting, for you are quite the lone wolf.”
Tenebris was a practical man. He was more concerned about freeing other magic users and fighting against those who sought to harm them than gold and jewels. That he bothered to find such a costly item and gave it to him… Farrin raised his gaze of adoration to Tenebris. “Thank you.”
Tenebris winked. “You’ve earned it. But whenever you look at it, remember me and remember my words. You could be one of my greatest soldiers, Farrin, as long as you follow me with every breath you take.”
“It will be my honor, sir.” Farrin forced himself to put the small sculpture and pouch in his saddlebag, though he wanted to hold it and admire it. He straightened with pride as he rode next to his leader.
He didn’t think he would ever be happier than he was at that moment, and he knew he would never leave Tenebris and abandon his great goal to help magic users and punish those who had wronged them.
Tenebris had reached out to help Farrin when he was little more than an animal. There was no one else in the continent who would do that if they knew the kinds of things he had done. Farrin was so blessed to meet such a man.
What Farrin did not know was that there was such an individual who would look past his sins and love him anyway. And as Farrin felt like he would burst with pride, she was huddled in the corner of her ice castle, her hands clasped against her mouth as she fought tears.
Though she had been exiled for years, sometimes the loneliness was too much for Rakel to bear, as it was tonight. It pressed down on her like a living thing, and the silence of her castle was unbearable. But she knew if she cried that would only make it worse. To hear her own sobs echo in her castle and to know no one heard her or even cared would amplify her pain.
Her shoulders shook, not from the cold, but from the sheer sorrow that wracked her.
She was caged like an animal, left alone to rot in her icy prison. When she had been a child and was locked in her tower near the palace, at least she could hear people even if they never approached her.
But here, on Ensom Peak, there was no one but herself.
They haven’t killed me, Rakel reminded herself. And I still have my magic.
She reached for her magic, and it wrapped her in its cold embrace. Though she still shook, she lowered her hands from her mouth and heaved a little sigh.
Alone. I am so alone.
The thought was like a dagger to her gut.
Barely able to see through the haze of her tears, Rakel ran through her ice castle. Her footsteps were a lonely sound in the oppressive silence. She tried to block it out as she fled to her one haven—her library.
She skid into the room, and the pain of her heart lessened. The sight of the books stacked on their icy shelves gave her a tiny flicker of hope. Someone cared about her. Someone loved her, however distantly.
Though in her darkest hours she wanted to bust free of her prison and scream, she would not. She would not be the horror everyone seemed to think she was.
Rakel felt her magic twine around her ankles. She rubbed her face then plucked a book about animals from a bookshelf and started for the outdoors, intending to practice her ice-carving skills.
The Beginning…
Forgiven
This story has been long in coming, but I wanted to use it to show how great an impact forgiveness has, and how the course of a country can be changed by an act of mercy.
“Sit up, Little Wolf. Stop worrying and just ride. For crying out loud—with all the hours of riding narrow Frigid you’ve done, riding a horse will seem like child’s play.”
Rakel gripped her horse’s mane and tried to make herself sit upright. “I don’t believe you.”
Phile folded her arms across her chest. “A horse is far more secure and sturdy.”
“And far taller,” Rakel said. She had been on horses before, but usually it was only when she was riding double with Farrin, Phile, or Oskar. Riding alone was more challenging than anyone had led her to believe. She peered over the side of the horse and shivered. The ground seemed horridly far away. Even worse, there was only a layer of grass to cushion her from the unforgiving ground should she fall, unlike when she first learned to ride Frigid with inches of snow. “Could I first practice on a pony?” She watched Kai with some jealousy as he rode the plump (short) pony Steinar had given him.
“Just try sitting up,” Phile said in a soothing tone.
“You’re doing great, Princess,” Kai piped in.
Rakel slowly inched upright so she stopped hovering over her horse’s neck and instead sat up straight. The horse shook his head to scare off a fly, making his body shake. “Perhaps I should stick to carriages and sleds for the rest of my life,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Phile said. “You just need to get comfortable. I’ve seen you snuggle in for a ride with Farrin—you can do it.”
“You can do it!” Kai repeated.
Rakel’s palms were icy cold as her magic, swirling around Verglas itself, stirred with mild concern at her strong feelings. When she spotted Ensign Topi crossing the field where they were practicing, she nearly sighed in relief.
Phile lazily spun around to see what had provoked such a reaction in Rakel, and she whistled in welcome. “Ensign Topi, aren’t you a sight? Come to rescue the princess from my clutches?”
Ensign Topi saluted. “King Steinar and General Halvor wish to inform you that another magic user refugee has arrived, Princess.”
Rakel blinked, pre-occ
upied with Topi’s arrival and thankfully able to ignore her horse’s swishing tail and the leg he stomped from the bugs. “Just one refugee?”
Topi nodded.
“I see. Thank you, Ensign. I believe I shall accompany you back to the king and the general.” Rakel started to dismount, struggling for a moment when she slid from the saddle and the drop was farther than expected.
The Robber Maiden raised an eyebrow. “What about your riding lessons?”
“Any refugees are far more important than my riding ability,” Rakel logically pointed out.
Phile exchanged glances with Kai and nodded to the little boy.
Kai set his puppy eyes on Rakel. “But I wanted us to ride together…”
Rakel simultaneously melted and burned. Kai was so sweet—but obviously this was one of Phile’s underhanded tactics. She handed her horse’s reins off to Phile and approached Kai and his pony, taking a moment to pat the pudgy animal. “We will ride together. I promise.”
Kai nodded. “Maybe if Farrin helped teach you?” he asked.
Behind them, Phile snorted. “If Farrin ‘helped,’ I very much doubt it would be appropriate for your innocent eyes.”
“Phile,” Rakel hissed.
Farrin popped out of his speed magic, creating a wind that stirred the blue skirts of Rakel’s dress. “It’s an idea,” he said. When he looked at Rakel, his dark eyes glowed with warmth.
Rakel felt a blush heat her cheeks, and she smoothed her gown. “Topi, I believe I am ready to meet with my brother and the general.”
Ensign Topi saluted again, then led the way back to the palace. Phile and Kai waved as she and Farrin left.
“You know,” Rakel said. “If you ever tire of guarding me, I am certain General Halvor would still offer you a position.”
Farrin kissed her temple, lingering long enough to set off her blush again. “I will never tire of guarding you,” he murmured. “You were nearly stolen from me, Rakel. Seeing you laugh and work…it’s all I ever want.”
Rakel reached for his hand, sighing with joy when he intertwined his fingers with hers.
Ensign Topi led the couple through the palace, all the way to the newly redecorated throne room.
Rakel glanced fondly at the throne her brother had made for her—a glass creation that was sculpted to resemble ice—and peered around the busy room.
It bustled with advisors and government officials. The constant murmurs of the workers was a soft, humming backdrop. Steinar, Rakel’s little brother, was at the center of it all. He was not on his throne, but stood in the middle of the room, speaking with two of his advisors. To Rakel’s admittedly prejudice eyes, he looked regal and confident, his blue eyes lit with intelligence and patience and complemented by the golden crown that sat on his brow.
Ensign Topi approached the king and bowed. “Your Majesty, I have brought Princess Rakel, as you commanded.”
Steinar smiled. “Thank you, Topi. Welcome, sister. We have a rather unusual visitor.”
Rakel nodded. “A refugee, Topi mentioned as much.”
Magic user refugees weren’t exactly common—for only a small percentage of the continent’s population was born with magical abilities—but whenever they fled to Verglas, they always came in groups. A single refugee successfully fleeing to their lands had never been encountered before.
“She is unusual,” Steinar said. “But when you meet her, I think you will understand how she managed such a feat alone.”
“She?” Farrin asked.
Steinar nodded. “Come. We’ll meet her out by the lake.” He turned and made his apologies to his advisors before leading the way from the room.
Rakel blinked as they were joined by half a dozen guards. “Topi said she was with you.”
“She was,” Steinar said cheerfully. “But she has a gift to give us, and due to its nature, she suggested we adjourn outdoors. Oskar thought it would be best to agree to her request.”
“Oskar was with you?” Farrin asked.
“He joined us shortly after I sent Topi to find Rakel,” Steinar said. He laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I would almost say he has magical powers that let him know whenever there is a matter that directly involves you, Sister.”
“I’m afraid he’s only fiendishly clever,” Farrin said.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Rakel said.
“It is only that I am uncomfortably aware that if he did not approve of me, my campaign to win your affections would have likely gone very poorly,” Farrin said.
Rakel frowned at him, but Steinar snorted. “You can’t deny he excessively dotes on you,” the young king said as he led them down a winding stairway.
He was right—though Rakel felt like most people unfairly doted on her these days, Steinar and Farrin included. She knew from experience it would be fruitless to point this out, so she chose to change the topic. “What magic does the refugee possess?”
Steinar rolled his shoulders back as they strolled down a hallway and trooped through a side door of the castle, escaping into a floral-scented garden. “I believe she is like Farrin—skilled in several areas, most of them involving combat or field abilities.”
Oskar and General Halvor stood on the shore of the aqua blue lake that had once been a glacier Rakel had created during the retaking of Ostfold. With them was an unusual woman.
Her hair was brown with a hint of red to it—like a log burned to cinders. Her eyes were brown, and her facial features were fine and pretty, almost like a doll’s, which was at odds with the wide stance in which she stood. She wore a periwinkle tunic and trousers with leather boots that rose up to her thighs. Her clothes had once been luxurious, though they looked a little bedraggled and stained now. A quiver was strapped to her back; several daggers, a hunting horn, and a skein of water hung from her belt, and she held a beautiful bow.
When she saw Rakel, Farrin, and Steinar, she bowed deeply. “Princess, King,” she murmured. She kept bowing even as Steinar picked his way around the pebble-strewn shore to stand with General Halvor, leaving Rakel and Farrin alone standing before her.
“What is your name?” Rakel glanced at the guards, who hung back a fair distance to keep from intruding on the conversation.
“Laryn, Princess.” She finally stood straight again. “I’m from Clarus; I was King Mauro’s expert huntsman.”
Farrin tilted his head. “Your magic?”
“My arrows always find their target, and my senses are stronger than average,” Laryn said.
“I assume Mauro did not dismiss you?” Rakel asked.
Laryn hesitated, then slowly shook her head. “I fled.” She nervously looked from Rakel to General Halvor and Steinar. “But I will not bring King Mauro’s anger down on Verglas. I faked a hunting accident. He should believe I am dead.”
There was growing concern that the magical refugees, welcomed as they were, would bring the wrath of the other countries down upon Verglas. General Halvor had done little more than mention it on two separate occasions, but Rakel knew it was a legitimate worry.
Thankfully, it seemed none of the countries minded—yet. Whether it was because they knew of Rakel’s power, or they simply didn’t care what happened to the magic users they abused, she did not know.
Laryn remained immobile in the lull, but Rakel could see the fear lurking in her eyes.
“You need not fear rejection, Laryn,” Rakel said. “We will not turn you away.”
The huntress briefly shut her eyes. “Thank you, Princess. My King.” She bowed first to Rakel, then to Steinar. “If it pleases you, I have brought a gift for the Snow Queen.”
Rakel’s heart broke. This young woman had obviously lived through much. And though she fled for her life—alone—with little more than the clothes on her back, she had thought to bring her a gift? She wanted to refuse, but she sensed to do so would hurt what little pride Laryn had left.
“That is very kind of you,” Rakel said. Such trite words that convey so little depth.
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“I brought one for His Majesty as well, should it please him,” Laryn said.
Steinar was far more charismatic, so he smiled with boyish charm. “That is very noble of you, Laryn. I will gladly accept any token from you, if you will agree to let us welcome you to Verglas,” he said as he rejoined Rakel.
Laryn bowed her head. “It would be my honor.” She turned towards the forest that swept down from the mountains and encroached upon Ostfold and the palace, and whistled.
Two canines, white as snow with black markings around their eyes, black triangular ears, and black paws slunk from the woods. They had beautiful blue eyes that were nearly the same glacier blue as Rakel’s, and they looked from Laryn to Rakel and Steinar.
“This is Koray. This is Senay.” Laryn pointed first to the larger of the two dogs, then to the smaller. “They are ilumen.”
Steinar knelt down and offered out a hand for the dogs to sniff. “Ilumen? They’re real? I thought they were only fairy tales.”
“I have never heard of them before,” Rakel said. She hesitated, then joined her brother in extending her hand. The larger dog, Koray, sniffed her, tickling her palm with black whiskers, then seemed to smile at her.
“They’re mystical canines said to possess the light of stars,” Steinar said. “Legend has it they come from the north—beyond the impassable mountains.”
“There are very few of them in the continent,” Laryn said. “And they are rarely seen, except when they wish to be. It is said that they have magic—for you cannot keep or cage them unless they wish for it. Though King Mauro very much longed to own one, neither I nor any of his men successfully captured one for him.”
“You must have hidden your knowledge of them, then?” Farrin asked.
“Yes.” Laryn smiled fondly at the dogs. “I was once pursuing a chimera on the King Mauro’s orders. I managed to slay it, but it badly wounded me. I would have died, but Senay, Koray, and my Stella found me. King Mauro did not know I counted them as my friends.” She nodded to the forest, where a third ilumen sat in the shadows of the trees.