Chapter 2 - ICE

The boy's body went rigid, and then, faster than Alarielle could react, his small hand shot out and grabbed Alina's wrist. His eyes—once filled with fear—darkened, and when he spoke, the voice that came out was not his own. It was an old, raspy voice, one that sent a shiver down Alarielle's spine. She knew that voice. She had heard it before, echoing in her nightmares, whispering in the shadows of her memories.

The world around her faded as she was pulled back into the past.

She was ten, lost in the Shadow Forest, her body bruised and her feet raw from running. For three days, she had fled through the dense, dark woods, surviving on nothing but a few sips of rainwater and whatever scraps she could find. Every night, she hid—within thick bushes, or, if she was lucky, in the safety of a small cave. But on the fourth night, exhaustion claimed her. She could go no further. Her small body was too weak, her limbs heavy as stones. She collapsed on the forest floor, the damp earth pressing against her cheek.

That was when she heard it.

"Oh my, what do we have here?" The voice was thin and creaky, like the groan of ancient trees. It drifted through the air, carrying a chill that made her blood run cold. "It seems it's my lucky night."

Alarielle's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up, her vision blurred by fatigue and hunger. The figure loomed over her, casting a long shadow that seemed to stretch out like claws. A balding old woman with a crooked nose and skin that sagged off her bones, like it was barely clinging to her frail frame. She wore a ragged black cloak, full of holes and dirt, that billowed around her like the wings of a dying bat.

But it was the smell that truly shocked Alarielle—an overpowering stench of rotting meat and decaying flowers, so thick and foul that it made her gag. The woman's breath was rancid, wafting over her like a wave of death. Alarielle's instincts screamed at her to run, to fight, but her body refused to move. She was trapped, paralyzed by the exhaustion and the terror that gripped her.

The old woman crouched down, her bony fingers extending toward Alarielle's face. "A little lost fae, all alone," she crooned, her voice dripping with a twisted glee. "What a delicious little treat you'll make."

A sudden burst of icy flame erupted from Alarielle's necklace, her mother's power reacting to the terror coursing through her veins. The cold fire shot out and struck the old woman squarely in the chest, knocking her back with a sharp, inhuman scream. The creature's twisted face contorted with rage as she stumbled, clutching at the scorched mark that marred her tattered cloak.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The old woman's eyes glowed with fury, and her elongated claw shot out, impossibly fast. Alarielle's limbs felt like lead, her body too weak and exhausted to move. She could only watch in horror as the claw slashed across her face, the searing pain cutting through her like a knife. Blood gushed from the wound, hot and thick, as her left eye blurred and then went dark.

A scream tore from her lips, echoing through the forest as she clutched her face, the world around her dissolving into darkness. The pain was overwhelming, a burning, throbbing agony that left her gasping for breath. The last thing she saw before her vision faded was the old woman's twisted smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she leaned in close.

"Such a fragile thing," the creature whispered, her breath reeking of decay.

The memory faded, snapping Alarielle back to the present. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched the boy's frail hand grip Alina's with a strength that seemed impossible for someone so small and sick. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and the voice that came from his lips was all too familiar—old, raspy, and filled with malice.

"Remember me, little ice bird?" the voice crooned, sending a shiver down Alarielle's spine. "you really thought escaped me didn't you? I have so many plans for you and that god awful power of yours"

Alarielle's breath caught in her throat. She could almost smell the decay, hear the rustle of that ragged cloak, and feel the burn of the scar across her face as if it were happening all over again. She gripped the hilt of her dagger, her body tensing, but she felt frozen, unable to move, caught between past and present.

The boy's eyes shifted, fixing on Alina. "You have done well, bringing her to me in time," the voice continued.

Alarielle's world tilted as she watched Alina, the woman who had taken her in and shown her kindness when no one else would, bow her head to the creature possessing the boy. The words that left Alina's lips—"Yes, mother"—echoed in Alarielle's ears, turning her blood to ice.

"No..." Alarielle whispered, the disbelief clawing at her throat. It felt as if the floor had fallen away beneath her, and the world was slipping into a nightmare she couldn't escape from. Alina's expression was blank, almost serene, as if she'd been waiting for this moment all along.

Alarielle felt the weight of the truth settle over her like a shroud. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her dagger as her pulse thundered in her ears. Rage and betrayal surged within her, clashing with the dark magic that seemed to hum in the air, prickling against her skin.

"Alina, what are you doing?" she demanded, her voice barely holding steady. "Why... why ?"

Alina's eyes flickered, but they remained distant, as if she were caught in some spell, some enchantment beyond her control. "I am bound to her, as you are, elle," she said, her tone flat, devoid of the warmth Alarielle had always known. "I have always been bound."

The boy's hand finally released Alina, and she straightened, her gaze never meeting Alarielle's. "This was always meant to be."

Alarielle shook her head, stepping back, the betrayal cutting deeper than any wound. "You... you lied to me... all these years." Her voice was barely a whisper, raw and filled with pain.

"Yes," Alina replied, her voice softening for a moment. "I knew the moment I found you half dead on my front porch that you were the girl my mother was searching for." She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "What I didn't account for was that I would end up loving you like my own. I'm so sorry, Elle."

Alarielle's heart twisted at the admission, a sharp pain slicing through her chest.

"You always had such a soft heart, Alina. No wonder Mother doesn't involve you much," Vanessa spoke from the doorway, her presence a chilling shadow. "This ugly fae is what you almost betrayed us for? Such a disappointment you are, sister."

Alina glared at Vanessa, her eyes blazing with fury. "Wearing high fae flesh doesn't make you any better than me. You are still the same creature as I am!"

Vanessa laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed through the room. "Yes, yes, I am. But I don't pretend to care, unlike you. It's not nice to play with your food. Didn't those fae you surround yourself with ever tell you? Or did you glamour them too, like you did to this faeling?"

The voice from the bed, now taunting and cruel, echoed in the room. "Where is that stupid hunter who protected you, little fae?"

Alarielle's breath caught, the memories flooding back like a wave crashing over her.

Caught by a monster in the shadowy forest, her tiny body trembling with exhaustion. she was so weak, so cold. She was going to die there—she could feel it in her bones. "No... no... I will not die here," she whispered, clenching her fists. "I promised my mama."

The creature tilted its head, its eyes shimmering with a ravenous hunger that sent a shiver down Alarielle's spine. "Do you know what I am, little ice bird?" it rasped, its voice reminiscent of nails scraping against stone. "Can you guess?"

A twisted grin stretched across the creature's mouth, revealing rows of rotting teeth, sharp and blackened. The stench of decay hung in the air, and Alarielle's body shuddered involuntarily. Deep within her, she felt a surge of power, a cold burn coursing through her veins, but she had no idea how to harness it—she didn't even know if she could.

"Don't worry, child," the creature crooned. "I'll take that lovely magic of yours for myself soon enough." It extended a clawed hand toward her, and Alarielle screamed as a hot line of fire lanced across her face. Blood dripped from the wound, blurring her vision as darkness closed in around her.

Hours later, Alarielle regained consciousness, only to find herself bound to a tree. Agatha sat before her, incanting something while speaking to the flickering flames. "I have something for you, Krethos, but you need to give me something in return," the creature croaked.

A venomous, impatient male voice emanated from the fire. "I don't have time for your games, Agatha. Speak your due or begone."

Agatha sneered and suddenly turned her gaze toward Alarielle, "Oh look, the princess is awake at last," she taunted, and the flames flickered out.

Agatha crept closer to Alarielle, her sharp claw tearing down Alarielle's chest as she relished the girl's pain. A second slash followed, this time across Alarielle's stomach.

Alarielle had lost track of how long Agatha had been carving her small body. Her voice had grown hoarse from shouting, the sound echoing in the dark forest around them.

A flaming arrow shot through the darkness, embedding itself into the creature's neck. It let out a piercing wail, its body twisting as it whirled around to face the source of the attack. Alarielle's vision blurred from pain, but she forced herself to focus, her hand instinctively going to the wound on her face.

A fae male stood a few feet away, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of his arrow's flame. His eyes were sharp, and his smirk was as confident as it was mocking. He aimed another arrow at the creature, his posture relaxed yet poised for action.

"Such a sloppy windling you are," he taunted, the amusement clear in his voice. "Never thought I'd manage to creep up on a windling before."

The creature snarled, yanking the flaming arrow from its neck. Black, foul-smelling smoke billowed from the wound as it seethed with fury. "Who dares interfere?" it spat, its eyes glowing with malice as it fixed its gaze on the fae.

The fae male's grin widened. "Just a hunter passing through. Thought I'd lend a hand to a little faeling in distress." He fired another arrow, its flame lighting up the creature's snarling face as it pierced its shoulder.

Alarielle, still clutching her face, stared at the fae in confusion and disbelief. She didn't know who he was or why he was helping her, but his presence felt like a lifeline in the nightmare she was trapped in.

The creature hissed, retreating a step. "You meddle in things you don't understand, hunter. She is mine."

"Not today, she's not," the fae said, drawing another arrow and giving Alarielle a quick, assessing glance. "You still with me, faeling? Or do I need to carry you out of here?"

Alarielle's mind raced, and despite the pain and fear gripping her, she forced herself to nod. Whoever this fae was, he was the only chance she had.

The memory ended, pulling Alarielle back into the dimly lit room where the boy still lay, possessed by the creature she now knew all too well. Her hands trembled, and her voice was sharp as she spat out the name.

"Agatha," she hissed.

The windling inhabiting the boy's body sneered, its lips curling into a grotesque imitation of a smile. The hunter she had met years ago had warned her about this creature—a mother windling who served the Drakydris, a being of dark power. Agatha's reputation was one of cruelty and malice, preying on the vulnerable and feeding off their fears.

Alarielle's scar burned, a reminder of that night in the forest when she had nearly died by Agatha's hand. She gripped her dagger tighter, her knuckles white. The urge to strike was overwhelming, but she knew better than to act rashly against such dark magic.

The creature laughed through the boy, its eyes gleaming with that same, twisted delight from years ago. "Ah, you remember me now, little ice bird," Agatha sneered. "And here I thought you'd forgotten our first meeting. It's good to see you've grown—though I had hoped you'd be a little less... disappointing."

Alarielle let out an amused laugh, her voice laced with defiance. "Me? I'm disappointing? I'm not the one inhabiting a child's body like a fucking parasite."

Agatha's laughter twisted into a snarl. "Oh, how clever of you. But you misunderstand your position. I don't need to be the one who's strong; I merely need to be the one who's in control. And right now, dear, that's not you."

Before Alarielle could retort, something hard hit her on the back, sending her sprawling forward.

"Kneel when you speak to the mother, you insolent child!" Vanessa spat, her voice cold and commanding.

The impact knocked the breath from Alarielle's lungs, and she felt a sharp pain radiate from her ribs as Vanessa delivered another kick. Each blow felt like a strike against her spirit, but she clenched her jaw, refusing to give in. When Vanessa went for a third kick, Alarielle saw it coming. With a quick, instinctive motion, she grabbed Vanessa's leg, yanking it hard and tripping her.

Vanessa fell to the ground with a thud, shock painted across her face. Alarielle seized the moment, scrambling back to her feet, adrenaline surging through her. "You'll regret that," she spat, her voice steady despite the tremors of fear still echoing in her chest.

"Regret? Hardly," Vanessa sneered.

Alarielle felt a wave of cold wash over her as Alina's voice resonated with a power she had never heard before. The air crackled with energy, and suddenly, her limbs went still, as if bound by invisible chains. Panic surged within her as she fought against the spell that held her captive, but it was like trying to swim against a tide.

"Elle, please don't make this any more difficult than it has to be," Alina said, her tone soft but firm. The warmth Alarielle had always associated with her faded, replaced by a chilling resolve.

"Alina, what are you doing?" Alarielle managed to choke out, her heart pounding in her chest. "You don't have to do this!"

Alina's eyes flickered with something that resembled regret, but her grip on the incantation tightened.

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Alarielle felt a rush of anger mixed with despair. "You're helping them! You're helping Agatha! How can you betray me like this?"

"Stop! Just stop fighting it!" Alina's voice cracked, her expression wavering between determination and sorrow. "If you resist, it will only make things worse for you."

The cold grip of Alina's incantation tightened around Alarielle, and before she could gather her thoughts, Vanessa lunged forward.

"You think you can defy us?" Vanessa spat, her voice dripping with disdain. She raised her hand, and a blinding light gathered at her fingertips, illuminating the dim room with an ethereal glow.

Alarielle's heart raced, and panic surged within her. "No! Don't do this!" she cried, but Vanessa's resolve was unyielding. The light pulsed and crackled, and with a swift motion, Vanessa unleashed a wave of blinding energy that slammed into Alarielle with the force of a raging storm.

Pain erupted across Alarielle's skin as the light scorched her, sending her to her knees. She gasped, feeling the flames of Vanessa's power sear through her, the heat threatening to consume her entirely. Desperation clawed at her throat as she fought to stay conscious, her vision blurring at the edges.

"What do you want from me, Agatha? So obsessed with a fae child you met years ago?" Alarielle spat through gritted teeth, struggling to find her voice amid the agony.

Suddenly, the boy possessed by Agatha surged to his feet, moving with a speed that belied his frail appearance. He was in front of Alarielle in an instant, small, dainty fingers grabbing her chin with a grip that felt unnaturally strong.

"Do you think I don't know what you are?" Agatha hissed through the boy's lips, her voice dripping with malice. "Little ice bird, you might have run away from Krethos, but did you think nobody knew about you? About the little Drakydris child your whore of a mother gave birth to in that cell?"

A cold dread washed over Alarielle as Agatha's words pierced through her. Memories of her past clawed at her consciousness, dragging her back to the dark cell where she had been born, surrounded by shadows and whispers. The truth she had buried deep within her, the legacy of darkness and power tied to her bloodline, surged back to the forefront of her mind.

"No..." Alarielle whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm not a drakydri"

Agatha let out an amused laugh, the sound twisted and cruel. "Oh, but yes, you certainly are much easier on the eyes than a Drakydri. But Krethos Sinclaw, the king of the Drakydri, is still your father, is he not? Oh, but wait! Daddy dearest does not know about the child your whore of a mother gave birth to." Amusement flickered on Agatha's face, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee.

Alarielle's heart raced as Agatha's words settled into her mind, a chilling reminder of the darkness that surrounded her lineage. "You lie," she gasped, but deep inside, a gnawing fear began to take root.

The memories flooded back—her mother's frantic whispers, the way her eyes had darted around in fear, always warning Alarielle to keep her heritage a secret, to stay hidden from the shadows of her father's kingdom.

"No!" Alarielle shouted, forcing the memories away.

Agatha chuckled darkly, the boy's body trembling with her dark energy. "You can scream all you want, but deep down, you know it's true. Do you know how your mother ended up in that cell? Hmmm? I heard that Krethos destroyed the little princess from Nyxvelyn and tried to absorb the power of their heritage. But your bitch of a mother was stubborn till the end."

She searched Alarielle's face, her grin widening with malicious delight. "Mummy didn't tell you? Oh, don't worry; I made sure she didn't."

Alarielle's eyes widened, the air thickening with dread. "What do you mean you made sure...?"

Agatha's expression twisted into something nasty, and the boy's body seemed to warp with her dark energy. "I met your mother when Krethos was trying to break her. I took her power, but the bitch retaliated and used her magic to take something from me. Since then, I cannot contain one body without rotting it. So, I bound the bitch to the Drakydri. Yet, it seems the whore found a way out."

Alarielle's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of Agatha's words crashing over her like a tidal wave. "You .. you stole her power and bound her?" she stammered, fury and anguish colliding within her.

Agatha leaned closer, her face inches from Alarielle's, her breath cold and foul. "Of course, I did! But even in chains, she managed to protect you, didn't she? That's why you're still here. But the truth? The truth is a poison, and you're swimming in it, little ice bird."

"Stop lying!" Alarielle shouted, desperation fueling her words. "You're nothing but a monster!"

"It gets boring talking about all that, doesn't it, Vanessa?" Agatha sneered, her small hand pressing against Alarielle's forehead. "I think I will take your power now... and maybe that body too."

Agatha's touch ignited a surge of scorching pain that rippled through Alarielle's limbs, a fire spreading from her forehead and coursing through her entire being. She gasped, a choked cry escaping her lips, the magic binding her limbs tightening as if it were a noose.

Suddenly, the necklace at her throat burned like ice against her skin, and a voice—one she had never heard before—echoed in her mind, sharp and commanding.

"Foolish girl, do you intend to let this vile creature claim you?"

Alarielle's breath came in shallow gasps. "What... who are you?" she whispered, struggling against the agony enveloping her.

"Your only hope," the voice hissed, its tone both harsh and alluring. "You bear the magic of an ancient line—my power. And you have hidden from it for too long."

The arrogance and authority in the voice were overwhelming. It felt like a presence, vast and cold, surging through her veins, and yet it was undeniably hers. "You're... my magic?" she realized, disbelief mingling with confusion.

"About time you realized" it snapped, frustration lacing its tone.

Alarielle gritted her teeth, anger rising within her. "I don't need you! I can get out myself!"

"Clearly not, if you allowed this situation to arise," the voice retorted, its impatience palpable. "Let me take control, and perhaps you'll survive this day."

As Alarielle felt her magic pulse, demanding to be unleashed, she wrestled against it. Her instincts screamed in protest—she didn't trust it, not when it felt so forceful, so quick to judge her. Yet, an unmistakable tug pulled at her, as if something inside her was being ripped away. Pain like no other clawed at her core.

Agatha's cruel laughter echoed in the room, a sinister melody that twisted the knife deeper. "The more you fight, the more relishing it will be for me, you do remember that, don't you?" she taunted, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Alarielle gritted her teeth, the weight of her mother's promise pulling at her, but the magic inside her lashed out, its voice a whisper that sliced through her thoughts.

"Pathetic. Just like your mother." The magic sneered, its tone dripping with disdain. "She was always too afraid, too weak to wield the power she was given. A coward, hiding from what she could become."

Alarielle's hands trembled as she felt the magic clawing at her, pushing against the restraints she had so carefully built over the years. "Shut up," she hissed, but the magic only laughed, a cold, mocking sound.

"You think you can ignore me forever? You can't fight this, little fae. Let me do what you're too afraid to."

Panic surged through her as Agatha's magic began to rip away her defenses, tearing at her insides like a savage beast. Her vision started to blur, and she struggled to maintain her sense of self against the overwhelming tide. "No..." she whispered, desperation lacing her voice. "Please..."

All those lessons, all that time spent training with Ramos, all the struggles to harness her abilities—it felt like a cruel joke. Here she was, helpless in the face of raw magic, trapped in a conflict that threatened to consume her entirely.

"Let me out before it's too late, Alarielle. I'd rather not live in a windling of all creatures," her magic spoke, urgency thrumming through its tone.

The vulnerability of her situation crashed over her like a wave, and a deep sorrow flooded her heart. "I'm sorry, Mama," Alarielle whispered, tears pooling in her eyes as she felt the weight of her decision bear down on her.

With that final concession, she surrendered to the magic, letting it take control.

In an instant, Alarielle felt herself pushed back into the recesses of her own mind, like a spectator in her own life. She watched in awe as fiery ice erupted around her, a dazzling display of swirling crystals and blinding light. The magic surged forth, reclaiming its power with a ferocity that left her breathless.

The world outside her consciousness transformed into a battlefield. Agatha, loomed before her, eyes wide with shock as the radiant ice danced around Alarielle like an angry tempest. The creature's sneer faltered, giving way to a mixture of fear and fury.

"Foolish girl!" Agatha spat, her voice laced with venom. "You think this pathetic display will save you?"

"I am much older than you, windling. You are nothing but a pest!" A voice erupted from Alarielle, fierce and commanding, echoing with the weight of ages past.

Agatha recoiled, a flash of confusion crossing her features. "What—who are you?" she demanded, her bravado faltering as the icy tendrils continued to swirl ominously around her.

"I am the magic you sought to control, the legacy of my lineage, and I will not be claimed by the likes of you!" Thevoice, resonating with a deep power, resonated through Alarielle's very core.She could feel the ancient energy intertwining with her own, amplifying herstrength and resolve.