Page 11 of The Enchanted Frost (The Christmas Chronicles)

CHAPTER 11

Frost

I stood at the edge of my domain, staring out at the vast expanse of snow and ice. The cold winds whipped around me, but they no longer offered the comfort they once had. Instead, they felt hollow, as if the very essence of my world was slipping away from me.

What was happening to me?

Panic cinched my chest, a foreign, painful feeling that I struggled to suppress, making every effort to keep my expression stoic so that Blanche wouldn’t notice. An internal battle raged within me as I found myself torn between not wanting to worry her and an unexpected longing to lean on her and seek comfort from her presence, a strange and unsettling desire when I’d managed just fine during my eternity of isolation.

For the centuries measuring my forever, my powers had been unwavering, constant in their strength, their only alteration coming with my discovery of new and innovative ways to wield winter’s might as I mastered them over time. Though my creations inevitably faded in the mortal world with the arrival of spring, that season’s reach had never extended to my realm, where winter was a perpetual presence. The cold, once an extension of myself, now felt like a burden, biting at my skin instead of invigorating me.

I’d awakened with a mix of delight and horror. Rousing to find Blanche still nestled in my arms—finding solace and warmth in my embrace—stirred a sense of joy and protectiveness that was entirely new to me. Yet the realization that I’d inadvertently fallen asleep while guarding her from the storm filled me with unease at just how far I’d lost control; while I’d enjoyed an occasional nap in the past when my work was completed and I wanted to relax, this was the first time I had ever fallen asleep unintentionally.

With every gentle rise and fall of her chest, I could feel the subtle shift within me, the softening of my power as warmth begun to seep into my very being, a force I couldn’t control no matter how hard I tried, not when that warmth was inextricably tied to her.

I willed the cold to seep back into my heart to freeze the warmth that had taken root, but I knew it was hopeless—she had become a part of me, woven into the very fabric of my existence, and no amount of ice or snow could erase that…nor did I want it to any longer. At the realization, something niggled at the back of my mind, something I should be putting together…but I couldn’t quite grasp it.

Everywhere I looked, I noticed unsettling changes. The once-transparent walls were slowly turning cloudy and smooth, as if they were beginning to erode, while the thick icicles that had once hung from the eaves now dripped steadily, forming small puddles on the floor, their echoes ominous in the grand halls. Each change served as a stark reminder that winter’s cold grip was loosening.

Closer examination revealed that the frost that had coated every surface of my crystalline domain was thinning. The once-pristine, icy fa?ade of the castle was showing signs of wear and decay. Patches of ice on the pillars had melted away, leaving exposed sections I would need to repair. When I brushed my fingers against the walls, even in the places the ice remained solid the magic within pulsed faintly, a sign that the enchantment holding it all together was weakening.

Each new sign of winter’s loosening grip deepened my anxiety, as if a raging storm had formed inside me, urging me to investigate my realm and see what else was changing. But I hesitated, reluctant to leave Blanche’s side, especially after the night she’d spent in the cave during the blizzard. The thought of parting from her filled me with a dread I couldn’t quite explain.

As I prepared another makeshift meal for her of roasted fish and winter fruit, I kept glancing her way, watching as she curiously followed my movements. Even though the storm had passed, I felt a constant pull towards her, as if something would happen the moment I looked away.

After she ate, I noticed the dark smudges beneath her eyes, a sign that despite the night’s rest in the cave, she was still exhausted. “Would you like to rest for a while?” I suggested.

At her nod, despite her protests that she could find it on her own without difficulty, I led her to the room where the embers of the magical fire still glowed, flickering in the hearth. I added some fresh wood, and then found myself hovering close as she curled up in front of the warm flames, pulling my cloak over her shoulders. As I took slow steps towards the door, my feet paused almost of their own accord, just before I could leave the room.

Blanche sleepily lifted her head to give me a questioning look. My mind raced, searching for an explanation that wasn’t admitting I just wanted to stay with her and watch her fall asleep.

“Let me adjust the cloak to more fully cover you.” I twitched it half an inch over her feet, pretending that it made a difference.

When I looked back at her face, I found her still watching me, her lips curving softly upward and her eyes filled with trust that caught me by surprise. For a moment our gazes held in a quiet, unspoken understanding, until she whispered a gentle, “Thank you,” before nestling deeper into the cloak.

I shifted awkwardly, knowing I should leave, yet I struggled to part from her. As her eyes fluttered shut, I felt an undeniable pull, a quiet, inescapable desire to be closer to her. Without thinking, I leaned down and gently pressed my lips to her forehead.

She sighed softly but didn’t open her eyes. I leapt back, horrified. Had I truly been so overcome with emotion that I’d kissed a mortal? And worse, had I done it when she was vulnerable, unable to refuse because she hadn’t seen me coming?

I stood over her, turmoil swirling inside me, yet at the same time a strange sense of peace settled over me, an emotion that only seemed to exist when I was near her. I thought I noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips. With great effort, I tore myself away, forcing my feet to carry me from the room and into the frigid air of the castle courtyard to see how the rest of my domain fared.

Outside, I was met with another shock. The wind had changed—a mild chinook blew, making the cold air almost bearable, another troubling sign that the world was shifting to spring, as if the very castle itself were trying to thaw despite winter’s claim.

I frowned at the patches of brown, damp earth breaking through the white, and the rivers and streams that had been frozen solid but were now beginning to flow, the faint gurgle of water beneath the ice signaling the return of life—something that had no place in my eternal winter.

I could no longer deny that my powers were waning, allowing spring to encroach upon my domain. If I couldn’t restore winter, the consequences would ripple through the natural world and the magical realms. The seasonal rhythm could be thrown off balance, leading to unpredictable weather patterns, prolonged warmth, and even the collapse of the seasonal cycle itself.

With the absence of winter, the environment would suffer: certain plant species might overgrow, disrupting animal hibernation cycles. Plants and animals that relied on the cold could face extinction, and mortals, their agriculture, and their way of life would be threatened by the extremes of a world out of balance.

Spring…a sudden idea sparked. Though each of the Guardians of the Seasons respected the delicate balance of our domains too much to seriously encroach on another’s domain, Daisy—the sprightly and mischievous being that ruled Spring—was notorious for her love of pranks. Could it be that this sudden warming was nothing more than one of her elaborate jokes?

As if in answer to my thoughts, a thick curl of green pushed through a bare patch of soil before me, unfurling to reveal the purple blossoms of a crocus. Clenching my teeth, I plucked it from the ground and froze it with a sharp burst of power. Drawing deeper from my magic, I crafted a thin sheet of ice that shimmered with a frosty design not of vines or scrollwork, but with etched words, demanding to know if Daisy was the cause of this unwelcome intrusion in my kingdom.

I froze the crocus to the letter, infusing it with extra power to ensure it wouldn’t melt as it left my domain, and with a great effort summoned a wind. To my dismay, what came was a gentle breeze rather than the snow-laden blast I had envisioned. Nevertheless, it carried the note away, vanishing in the direction of Spring. I collapsed to the muddy ground, gasping from the exertion. Minutes passed before I could regain my composure and stand, squinting at the distant horizon where my message had blown.

I paced impatiently, but soon realized I couldn’t afford to merely wait. The urgency of my fears stoked my desperation, compelling me to take action. I had already fallen behind in my usual winter preparations due to the time I’d spent caring for my unexpected mortal guest. Now I had to expend even more exhausting effort to recast ancient spells that maintained the icy barriers of my castle and the perpetual winter of my domain. Some of the more complex incantations, rituals, and artifact uses required me to look them up, given how long it had been since I’d needed to wield such powerful magic.

I spent hours reinforcing the structure of my castle, creating new ice pillars, walls, and fortifications to patch up the areas where the ice was eroding. The spells managed to mend several sections that had begun to melt, but I was unsure how long they would hold before weakening again. Despite my efforts, a nagging doubt lingered, making me fear I was fighting a losing battle against something far beyond my control.

I unleashed powerful snowstorms across my domain, desperate to freeze everything solid once again, trying to bury any signs of spring beneath fresh layers of snow. But even as the storms raged, I knew they weren’t enough. I tried to summon the fierce, howling gales that had once obeyed my command with a mere thought, but when I reached for that power, all I found was a dull ache in my chest. The wind came, but this time it was weak, a mere whisper of what it should have been, and it did nothing to deter the encroaching warmth.

I moved to the edge of the frozen lake, the sky above dark and heavy with the thick clouds I’d summoned to block the sun. Yet no matter how much I willed it, the warmth still seeped through, stubbornly defying my efforts. I raised my hand, willing the frost to creep over the thawing ice and coat the surface in a solid sheet of white to halt the progression of spring, an effort that drained me more than it ever had before. For a moment, it obeyed—thin veins of ice spread outward from my fingertips, reclaiming the lake. But then the ice faltered and began to recede, melting away before my eyes.

Exhaustion hit me like a wave, and I had to catch myself on the trunk of a nearby pine to keep from collapsing. My chest heaved, each breath more labored than the last, the cold air resistant, as if it too were slipping from my grasp. The frost that usually danced in the air around me had diminished, barely clinging to my presence.

What was happening to me?

I tried to collect myself, but the world around me tilted, spinning slightly as if rejecting my very presence. The cold that served as my strength and my identity was slipping away, just like the ice that now melted at my touch. My heart pounded in a frantic rhythm and I couldn’t catch my breath, suffocating in the very element that had once been my sanctuary.

As I bent over, fighting for breath, a warm breeze carrying the sweet scent of daffodils caressed my cheek. Floating towards me was a small scroll of birch bark, tied with a fresh yellow bloom that remained vibrant in the ever more temperate air.

Snatching it up, I hastily tore the daffodil away and unrolled the bark, hoping for an explanation…but the few lines that greeted me made my heart sink.

Frost, I appreciate your belief that I have both time and magic to spare in tormenting you while I’m preparing the world for Spring’s arrival, but whatever is ailing your kingdom must be your doing, not mine. Daisy

I crumpled the scroll, frustration tightening in my chest. If this wasn’t Daisy’s handiwork or anyone else’s magic either, the answer had to lie within me. I simply needed to regain control. I clenched my fists, willing my power to return, but all I felt was the sting of defeat creeping in like the warmth I’d fought so hard to keep at bay. Winter was slipping away from me, and with it everything I’d ever known, the power that once defined me now feeling like a distant memory.

I’d been created to be Winter’s keeper, to protect the force that sustained the balance between life and death, cold and warmth. Yet now I watched my realm thaw before my very eyes. With every patch of melting snow and droplet of ice that dripped from my formerly impenetrable castle, I felt my purpose slipping away; the winter I’d nurtured and the world I’d shaped across the expanse of forever was unraveling, and no matter how much I tried to regain control, I couldn’t seem to hold it together.

I closed my eyes, trying to center myself, but all I could feel was the warmth on the horizon, an unstoppable force that no amount of willpower could hold back. It brought with it the inescapable truth I would do anything to deny: spring was coming, and I feared I was powerless to stop it. I was supposed to be Winter incarnate, the eternal, immortal embodiment of cold, but now, with spring encroaching upon my realm, I had never felt so human.

As I staggered back to my ice castle, exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders, and a chilling realization settled over me, insidious and undeniable—the frost that once responded effortlessly to my will was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The unnatural thaw in my realm pointed to one source, the catalyst that had set this chain of unwanted events in motion.

Her .

Unbidden, my thoughts once more drifted towards the mortal whose soul I was meant to claim who had somehow woven herself into the fabric of my existence. From the beginning, I knew her presence was dangerous, a disruption to the delicate balance that maintained the cycle of seasons. Yet I had chosen to blind myself to the truth…because I didn’t want to lose her.

But now, standing in the shadow of my castle, watching the once-immaculate ice walls glisten with the threat of melting, I could no longer deny she was likely the reason winter was weakening. If I wanted to reclaim my fading powers and restore balance, there was only one solution.

I had to claim her soul.

The thought twisted cruelly in my gut. Claiming her soul would restore the cycle, reassert my dominion over winter, and drive back the encroaching warmth that threatened to undo everything I’d built, securing my place as the embodiment of winter and preserving the world as it was meant to be.

But it would also mean losing her forever.

I’d taken comfort so far in the belief that I was not yet able to take her soul; the ancient magic I’d encountered in the alley had prevented my sincere efforts. Yet now as I surveyed my vanishing kingdom, the realization slammed into me with force. In the cave I hadn’t consciously understood it, but as I replayed the scene in my mind I saw with painful clarity that the barrier that had protected Blanche’s soul from my power was gone. Nothing was keeping me from moving forward with my task except my own reluctance.

My thoughts whirled, trying to find an explanation for why her soul had been unavailable when she froze, but now that she was recovering—both physically and emotionally—it was procurable.

After much thought an idea came to mind: I knew that whatever had prevented me from fulfilling my duty earlier had been a powerful magic woven into the fabric of the world, not a mere conflict with another seasonal spirit or a glitch in my powers. The showcase of Blanche’s life had offered insight into a life of startling neglect amidst luxury; it had become increasingly clear with each new scene that not a single person in her life truly cared about her.

Closing my eyes, I thought back to the tomes on mortals and the magical structure of the earth I’d studied at the beginning of my existence. One line stood out to me now: The experience of love is the hallmark of humanity and the birthright of every person.

Could that mean that Blanche’s soul was bound to life because her birthright had been denied to her, that her soul could not be severed from her body until she experienced someone caring for her? If so…I wasn’t sure I wanted to consider what it signified that her soul was now free for my taking.

I clenched my fists, feeling the icy chill of my power flicker weakly in response, barely a whisper of what it once was. The more I tried to will it back, the more I realized how much she had come to mean to me, awakening something I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. She had melted the walls of ice I’d built around my heart, bringing warmth and light into a life that had always been defined by cold and darkness…and apparently doing the same for my entire realm .

I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, but if I didn’t do what was necessary, the balance of nature would unravel. I had a role that extended beyond my own desires, for I was Winter, a season that couldn’t exist without death. Yet if I fulfilled my duty and claimed her soul, I would lose the one thing that had ever made me feel truly alive.

I stood there, torn between two choices, each leading to a different kind of death. Whichever I chose, something precious would be lost forever. The ice beneath my feet cracked slightly, a reminder of the fragility of the world I was struggling to protect.

The winds began to die down, but for the first time in my existence, I found no comfort in the cold—it felt distant, as if the very essence of winter was slipping away from me. The warmth that had seeped into my heart, brought there by her presence, now threatened to consume me entirely.

I knew the choice I had to make, but the sense of loss gnawed at me, sharper than any blade of ice. My sense of self—once as solid as the frozen ground beneath my feet—seemed to be crumbling, fear gripping me with cold, unyielding hands.

Who was I if the season I commanded withered under my care?

The weakened frost that once effortlessly flowed through me left me adrift, as if the essence of my identity had been stripped away. The more my power weakened, the more my desperation grew, until it became a relentless force I could no longer ignore, urging me to do anything to reclaim the raw force of winter coursing through my veins.

Desperation burning in my chest, I descended to Earth, seeking the one place where I’d always felt in control: the skies. I took to the air, my emotions a turbulent storm as I searched for a way to prove to myself that I was still the master of ice and snow .

The moment my feet touched the ground, dark clouds gathered, a mirror of my turmoil. I reached out to the elements with what remained of my power, demanding they respond as they always had. The wind howled in answer and the temperature dropped, the air around me growing sharp with cold.

But it wasn’t enough. I pushed harder, forcing my will upon the sky, and the first shards of ice began to fall. Hailstones, small at first, tumbled from the heavens, striking the earth with a force that echoed my growing despair. Still, I needed more—more cold, more ice, more proof that I hadn’t lost everything.

The hail intensified, the stones growing larger, harder, driven by the fury of a storm I could barely control. They pounded the ground, a relentless barrage that scarred the earth in its wake. The storm spiraled, feeding off my deep-seated need to prove that I still possessed the power that had always given meaning to my existence.

Yet as I watched the wild, uncontrolled force smash into the earth, I found no satisfaction, only a hollow ache that confirmed I was losing more than just my power…I was losing myself.

The realization calmed my surge of emotions just enough for the storm to wane, the hailstones dwindling as the last vestiges of my strength faltered. I dropped to my knees, the cold earth beneath me doing little to ground me in the reality of what I’d done.

As the storm’s fury subsided and the last remnants of ice fell from the sky, a heavy stillness settled over the landscape; the world grew eerily quiet, as if nature held its breath, waiting to see what I’d do next. Yet in this moment, I had no more power to draw upon.

In the silence, my thoughts turned to the mortal woman who had disrupted my world. Despite the havoc she’d wrought on my powers, the very thought of her soothed the edges of my despair—not the comfort that came with the cold, indifferent strength of winter but with something entirely different, something warmer, softer. The memory of her touch, the sound of her voice, the way she looked at me as if I was more than just a force of nature left my soul craving for her, the only one in this moment who seemed to possess the power to calm the storm raging inside me.

Suddenly I couldn’t bear to be apart from her for another moment, and I hastily created a portal to return to my castle. As if the cold from the furious storm I’d created had extended its reach even to here, the repairs in winter’s grip I had made over my realm maintained their hold, pushing back the hints of spring I’d previously detected. Yet my relief was tempered by fear that this reprieve was only temporary, a fleeting victory before the encroachment of spring would return to threaten my realm.

I pushed open the towering front doors, but before I could take more than a few steps inside, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a warm embrace that nearly knocked me off my feet. Blanche flung herself at me, her arms wrapping tightly around me with a force that belied her delicate frame. In that instant, all my concerns about winter’s fragile hold and my own weakening magic vanished, replaced by the immediacy of her presence.

“What is it? Are you alright?” My arm instinctively wound around her, pulling her closer as if it were the most natural thing in the world—even more than the magic that used to flow effortlessly through me. With my free hand, I gently stroked her cheeks, searching for any lingering cold that might still cling to her skin. Relief surged through me as her body heat spread across my touch, warm and soothing.

“After I awoke, I couldn’t find you anywhere. I searched the entire castle.” Her voice trembled slightly, and the worry in her eyes was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, guilt tightening my chest. “I had a storm to create. I meant to return before you awoke.” I hadn’t expected her to wake so soon, and in my panicked distraction, I’d lost track of time.

Shyness seemed to have stolen the rest of her voice. Instead her arms tightened around me, holding on as if I might disappear again at any moment. The desperation I’d previously felt in my struggles to maintain my hold over winter shifted in an instant; the changing of the seasons seemed insignificant compared to the distress she’d felt in my absence.

When she finally tipped her head back to look at me, the relief in her glassy eyes thawed the cold grip around my heart, as if spring itself had found its way not only to my kingdom, but inside me. Instead of the usual dread that accompanied it, instead I felt…comforted, as if her gaze had reached inside to melt away the fears that had consumed me, rendering them trivial in the face of her concern.

“You missed me?” The hope in my voice was unmistakable, a raw vulnerability that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in ages. Her shy nod sent a wave of warmth through me, helping me to finally identify the restless emotion that had plagued me since our separation…something much deeper than my anxiety about my powers undeniably tied to her.

A subtle pinch squeezed my heart. “I missed you too.” The cold I had so desperately clung to felt insignificant in comparison to the warmth she offered so freely, a warmth that I never expected would feel more attractive than my native cold.

In her arms—the very last place I would have thought to look—I found the sense of purpose that had been slipping away from me, like ice melting in the sun. Her presence restored something inside of me that I hadn’t even realized was missing, a connection that went beyond mere survival or duty…a new strength that didn’t rely on the power of winter, but on the joy she brought into my life and the growing affection I nurtured for her.