Page 2 of The Enchanted Frost

My legs suddenly gave out beneath me and I stumbled. I dragged my weak body the remaining distance across the snowy ground and nestled into the corner where the two walls met. I leaned wearily against the rough stones, pressing myself as far into the corner as the angle allowed.

Closing my eyes, I sought refuge in the only sanctuary I had left—my memories. On impulse, I fumbled with a match,striking it clumsily, its monetary value meaningless in that moment compared to the brief respite it provided from the cold. I watched, transfixed, as the tiny flame flickered against the frozen night, reminiscent of the countless matches my servants had once lit to illuminate the grand halls of my manor, where the fires always roared and banished the cold.

The flame danced, casting a soft, golden light that seemed to pull a vision from the depths of my past—the warmth of my home, the company that used to fill the rooms, the comfort of a life where hunger was a distant, unknown concept. I was transported to that moment in time, surrounded by the things I had lost. But the vision was fleeting; as the flame sputtered out, so did the illusion, leaving me in the bitter darkness once more.

But the vision vanished as quickly as the match burned out. Desperate to reclaim that comforting vision I hastily struck another with trembling fingers. This time, instead of bringing forth the familiar reminiscences of my past, the flame revealed something entirely unexpected—the face of a mystical young man who seemed to emerge from the surrounding shadows, his features softly framed by the match’s golden glow. His vivid blue eyes captured me, piercing through the cold that had encased my heart to fill me with a sense of calm that made me believe that I could endure this endless winter for a little while longer.

The light trembled in the icy air, as if desperate to hold onto that fleeting hope…until it burned down to my fingertips and the flame disappeared into the night. The enigmatic man vanished, leaving me alone once more with only the cold pressing around me with renewed force.

The match slipped from my fingers as the last of my strength drained away, the tiny flame flickering out as if extinguishing my final glimmer of hope. The icy air pierced my lungs with each shaky breath, every inhale a sharp,unforgiving reminder of the cold's relentless grip. My vision blurred, the once-distinct hues of grey and white blending into an indiscernible swirl of color, as if the world itself was dissolving into a shapeless void.

As my senses dulled, the cold became an unyielding presence, sinking deeper into my bones, a force that wrapped around me, tightening its grip as it pulled me into the depths of the night’s unforgiving embrace. My thoughts grew sluggish, slipping away like the fleeting warmth of the match, leaving only a profound emptiness as the freezing darkness threatened to consume me.

I felt myself drifting in and out of consciousness, locked in a futile battle with the elements that prevented me from succumbing to the sleep that promised escape. Time stretched on until through the velvety night a light glistened like a shooting star. In my delirium, it transformed into the figure of a young man, resembling the one I thought I’d glimpsed in the match’s dancing flame. He emerged from the swirling snow as if part of winter itself.

For a fleeting moment, I wondered if this surreal presence was an angel beckoning me from the brink of death before I remembered that there was no one left, alive or dead, who cared for me. I blinked, trying to dispel what I assumed was a figment of my imagination, but instead of fading, the vision drew closer, allowing me to faintly discern his features.

I could only stare, mesmerized by the otherworldly beauty that seemed untouched by the surrounding dreariness. My mind barely stirred enough to prompt me to reach for my basket of matches, but my lips were too frozen to ask if this stranger wanted to buy one. My arm fell limply to my side as my strength finally gave out.

The unconsciousness that had been waiting in the wings gently enfolded me as the world dimmed, leaving only inkydarkness behind my closed eyelids. The last thing I saw was a flash of white hair and brilliant blue eyes before the darkness fully descended upon me, at last drawing me into the warmth I’d been desperately seeking…the most relief I’d experienced since I’d fallen from grace.

So this was what it felt like to die.

CHAPTER 2

Frost

Snowflakes glistened in the moonlight, a ballet against the backdrop of the velvety night, their delicate dance guided by the gentle wind in a wintry symphony that was mine to command. I summoned a handful of magic, shaping it with the ease of a master sculptor, molding it into a new snowflake with intricate, lacy patterns carved into the frost.

I took a moment to admire the delicate mosaic before releasing it with an icy breath, sending it to join the gentle snowfall. Creating these fleeting masterpieces never lost its charm, even after centuries. The mortals seldom noticed my handiwork, yet the joy of crafting each snowflake never waned.

The snowfall I’d carefully orchestrated was now unfolding in perfect harmony with my magical calculations and no longer needed my guidance, yet I lingered, content to watch the performance—only one in the infinite wintry days that had filled my immortal life.

Truly there was nothing as beautiful as winter.

As I reveled in the serene scene, an unspoken sense drifted through the snow-laden wind to tug at my awareness, shattering the hypnotic spell. I tilted my head, listening to the message carried on the brisk breeze as it rustled the bare branches before drifting away. I sighed, reluctant to confront the shadow that marred the beauty of my favorite season.

There can be no creation without destruction. Nature thrived on balance, without which all the delicate patterns that comprised the world would unravel. Yet understanding that truth did little to ease the weight of this particular responsibility.

With one last lingering look at the gentle snowfall blanketing the woods, I heeded the invisible guidance of my power. It led me from the forest to a nearby town, where the snow cast a glistening sheen across the rooftops like powdered sugar, transforming the streets below into a muddy slush.

The magic led me to a wretched sight—rags huddled in a dirty corner of an abandoned alley. My heart cinched as I took in the small, frail figure before me, fearing I’d been tasked with claiming a child. But a more thorough examination instead revealed a petite woman, her body curled in on itself in a feeble effort to shield against the cold that had claimed her.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. This duty was never pleasant, but at least my victim had lived long enough to experience more than a child’s short life before fatally succumbing to the elements.

A thick layer of snow had settled over her, transforming her into a somber, frozen sculpture whose features, while not extraordinary for a human woman, caught my attention for some reason I couldn’t quite discern, as though there were something I should know about her. Her breath, once visiblein misty puffs, had slowed to a sporadic, shallow whisper as she hovered between life and death. Her eyes, once wide with desperation, were now closed in a tranquil but unnatural stillness, her final moments marked by a chilling quiet—a frozen pause in time as nature's cruel embrace tightened around her.

I suddenly noticed a spent match resting on the woman's tattered dress, filling the night with the faint odor of sulfur, contrasting sharply with the clean scent of fresh snow. A thin tendril of wispy smoke rose from its charred tip, a fleeting remnant of the fire that had just been extinguished. It gave me pause—something about this small detail stirred an unfamiliar sensation within me, a connection I’d never felt before that I couldn't quite place.

I stepped closer, my power simmering just beneath my fingertips, ready to assist the grave in claiming its victory. Though my footsteps made no sound she stirred with a faint moan, her eyelids fluttering open just enough to stare unseeingly in my direction. I watched her silent struggle against the encroaching unconsciousness that threatened her, as if she instinctively knew that surrendering to it would mean never waking again.

I crouched in front of her, taking in her appearance. Her ashen skin was nearly as white as the snow that had accumulated in her hair, and many of the exposed areas had already darkened to a purplish hue—the cruel marks of the final stages of frostbite…my least favorite aspect of the cold, but one that fell within my domain. Her lips, cracked and tinged with blue, barely moved, frozen in what might have been a final, silent cry for help that never came.

My fingers brushed against her icy skin before I pressed them gently to her chest to measure the slow, feeble beats of her heart. I heaved a weary sigh. Her symptoms wereunmistakably hypothermia. Even after all these years, it was still hard to reconcile that the cold I found enchanting and invigorating could also be the means to end something as precious as life. The beauty of winter possessed a harshness that was cruel to vulnerable mortals, but though it was a sight I’d witnessed countless times before, it never made my duty any easier.

The magic I summoned glowed against my palm in an illumination of aqua light that cast a glistening sheen across her pallid skin. I held it aloft, prepared to use it to seize her last breath, but as the minutes drifted by as slow and steady as the gentle snowfall, her final exhale never came.

I wove my magic around one of her labored breaths…only for it to unexpectedly slip from my grasp in an uncanny show of resistance. My brow furrowed and I once more rested my hand over her weakening heartbeat. Over the centuries, I’d become an expert in recognizing the signs of death by frost, having claimed countless souls with the same icy touch. She was undeniably succumbing to the cold, yet for some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t complete my claim over her soul. Was it possible that it wasn’t her time to die? If that was the case, why had my magic guided me to her?

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