Page 17 of The Enchanted Frost (The Christmas Chronicles)

CHAPTER 17

Blanche

T he glacial surroundings of Borealis’s frozen citadel gradually faded as the air shifted with a magic unlike any I’d experienced since entering Frost’s realm—rather than a shimmer of light or gust of wind, there was only overwhelming cold, so intense it stole the breath from my lungs.

Frost’s hand tightened around mine as the ground beneath us seemed to vanish, replaced by a strange sensation of falling—not through space but through time, into something deeper and older than the world we knew. The cold wrapped around us, a sensation sharper and more ancient than the chill of winter I’d grown accustomed to, coiling around me like icy fingers dragging me into darkness.

The world twisted, as though reality itself was bending. My vision blurred, swallowed by a swirling sea of snow and ice, endless and suffocating. I tried to move, to call out to Frost, but my voice was swallowed by the void .

Then, just as suddenly as the disorienting shifting had begun, it stopped. I caught my breath, blinking as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Around us loomed towering walls of crystalline ice branching into various paths whose destinations I could not see, so smooth and clear they reflected our figures in a thousand fractured images, distorting reality into endless illusions. The shimmering surfaces seemed alive, shifting with the light as though the labyrinth itself was breathing.

Frost pulled me to my feet, his eyes already scanning the intricate maze with a practiced, wary gaze. Magic lingered in the air, sharp and ancient, pulsing beneath our feet, as if the ground could vanish at any moment. The biting cold choking the air seemed more sentient than the mere chill of winter—alive, aware, and watching.

Frost drew in a sharp breath, his features tightening in recognition. “Borealis has sent us to the FrostVeil Labyrinth,” he said, voice edged with tension. “I hoped we wouldn’t have to face this.”

My chest tightened, an unspoken fear settling in the pit of my stomach. The dread clouding his usual calm, unshakable demeanor had shifted to a tension I hadn’t seen before, even with the stress of losing his powers.

“What is this place?”

Jaw clenched, Frost exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the freezing air. “The FrostVeil Labyrinth isn’t just any maze—it’s carved deep within Borealis’s glacier fortress. It’s ancient, alive, and constantly shifting and changing to disorient anyone who dares to enter…but the true purpose lies at its heart.”

He glanced toward the center of the labyrinth; though the ice walls obscured our view, I could sense he knew exactly what lay within. “At the center of this maze is the FrostHeart—the heart of winter itself…and the source of my power. ”

“The heart of winter?” My throat tightened with apprehension; I didn’t understand what the heart of winter entailed, but the note of dread in his tone made it clear that it was not a place to approach lightly.

He nodded grimly, his gaze darkening. “The FrostHeart holds the purest essence of winter’s balance. It’s what allows me to create snow, control the blizzards, and maintain the cycle of the season. Without it, winter would spiral into chaos. But it’s dangerous not because of the difficulty of finding it, but because it demands sacrifice. To reach it means facing trials, and those who make it to the center don’t leave unchanged.”

The weight of his explanation pressed down on me. “And Borealis sent us here?”

Frost’s usual icy calm cracked further, replaced by something sharper and more urgent. “Borealis guards the FrostHeart closely. He’s the only one with the power to place one of Season’s Keepers on trial before it. By sending us here, my abilities as the Winter King are not only being tested, but I’ll have to decide between two paths: severing my connection to the mortal world entirely, sacrificing the last shred of humanity I have left…or abandoning my power altogether and becoming mortal, leaving Borealis to take my place as Keeper of Winter.”

My breath fogged the icy air as the weight of his explanation settled over me like the air’s biting chill. This wasn’t just a labyrinth or a puzzle to solve—it was a trial of the highest stakes that would decide Frost’s fate, testing not only his powers but his very soul. Yet there was no turning back from the path ahead, shrouded in ice and uncertainty.

The icy wind bit at my skin as we crossed the threshold of the labyrinth, its soul-penetrating chill far deeper than the frigid air. Silence hung thick and heavy, broken only by the soft crunch of our footsteps and the occasional groan of shifting ice beneath us, as though the maze itself were alive and responding to our presence.

My thoughts whirled faster than the winter wind swirling through the twisting corridors. The weight of his confession filled the frozen space around us with a warmth no fire could match, making my heart flutter in a way I hadn’t thought possible in such a cold, desolate place.

He loved me .

I could hardly believe that the mystical, enigmatic figure who commanded the very essence of winter felt the same fierce emotion for me that I did for him. I wanted to hold onto that moment forever, to stay wrapped in the safety of his affection and let the world fade away. Despite the dire nature of our current predicament, happiness surged through me like the first sunlight after a long winter, warming parts of my heart I hadn’t realized were frozen.

I squeezed his hand as we walked, savoring the coolness of his skin against mine. Even as the elation of his love filled me, a shadow crept in alongside it, tempering my joy with the reminder of the cost of this love. I wasn’t ready to let him sacrifice so much for me, nor could I stand the thought of him losing any part of himself that I had come to love.

As we moved deeper into the labyrinth—choosing our steps carefully between the swaying walls—I dwelt on the way it felt to finally give voice to the feelings I’d tried to push aside for so long. Yet worry gnawed at me—Frost was preparing to sacrifice not just his immortality, but his powers…all for a regret-laden soul. I couldn’t bear for him to lose his identity as the Winter King, the man who had shown me the beauty in his cold, austere world.

Frost had been quiet since we entered the labyrinth, his distant gaze betraying an inner battle I couldn’t fully understand. His silence pulled at me, stirring my own anxiety until it felt like the cold itself had crept into my bones .

My worry drew his attention. His eyes softened, his serious countenance melting just enough to show the tenderness I knew so well.

“You’re troubled.” His quiet tone cut through the eerie silence cloaking the labyrinth.

I bit my lip as I glanced at my taut expression reflected in the ever-shifting walls of ice around us, as though the maze was echoing the conflict inside me. “It wasn’t until that frozen night in the alley when I was faced with death that I realized how little I had truly lived. You helped me find myself, and I can’t bear the thought of it coming at the cost of you giving everything up for me.”

We paused in front of a towering ice wall and he turned to me, his blue eyes locking onto mine, colder than the ice, yet holding a warmth only I seemed to see. His hand brushed my cheek, the chill of his fingers sharp against my skin, the familiarity of his touch offering a comfort that grounded me when everything else made me feel like I was falling.

“I’ve lived for centuries as the Keeper of Winter,” he said softly. “I’ve maintained balance and watched over this world, but in all that time I never felt alive…until I met you.”

My heart raced at his words, but worry maintained its clinging hold, refusing to let go. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose what makes you... you . You’re part of something bigger—your power, your connection to winter…how could you sacrifice all of that?” My voice trembled, thick with the weight of my fear.

His expression softened further and he cupped my face gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I do know I am more than just winter, just as you are more than your own past. I would give anything to be with you and keep this love that you’ve shown me. Though winter will always be a part of me, in the end it’s just a season…and it’s time for my own to finally come to an end an d for a new one to begin, a spring that only you can offer. Whatever happens, I’ll never regret loving you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I leaned into his touch. Though I couldn’t regret that these last precious moments with him had finally possessed meaning and happiness, I wasn’t ready to lose him—not to this trial, nor the sacrifice looming over us like the icy walls of the labyrinth. There had to be a way for us to be together without him giving up everything he had built across the eternity he had existed.

I nodded, blinking back tears, and we continued walking through the shifting maze stretching around us in every direction. My grip on his hand tightened, as if holding him close could somehow keep him from slipping away. Whatever lay ahead, we would face it together.

The narrow path we walked suddenly split beneath our feet. Frost caught me as my feet skidded on the ice. Walls slid into place, outlining three icy corridors stretching before us in different directions, each as cold and ominous as the last. Through the mist ahead, I could barely discern the faint outline of a mirror at the end of each path. Frost and I exchanged an uncertain glance before wordlessly choosing the first route.

What we hadn’t noticed from the entrance to the path was that the mirror in the distance wasn’t the only one—the walls were lined with reflective panels. The path began to curve and bend, obscuring the end. The mirrors fractured our images into pieces, then seemed to multiply until I was completely disoriented, surrounded by dozens of reflections of Frost and myself.

Our steps slowed as we tried to gain our bearings. The walls continued to shift. I fell against Frost as a mirror-lined sheet of ice suddenly pressed against me. Panic rose, and I wondered if we’d be trapped here indefinitely or crushed between the heavy walls.

Frost pushed back against the icy sheet and quickly assessed our surroundings, trying to guess where the walls would shift next and which direction we needed to move. Seized by a sudden thought, he turned to me, tightening his grip on my hand.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

I stared at him in bewilderment. “What?”

“Our vision is only disorienting us, as the labyrinth intends. To reach our destination, we must find another way.”

Closing my eyes inside a magical, sinister maze was the last thing I wanted to do, but I met Frost’s gaze and nodded shutting my eyes. I trusted him. His footsteps shuffled against the ground as he cautiously led me sideways.

“I’m shutting my eyes as well, and I’m going to try and keep my left hand on the wall,” he said. “If we keep moving along one wall, rather than trying to follow where the mirrors seem to lead us, we should eventually get there.”

Though it felt like it took a snippet of Frost’s eternity, we slowly edged forward, stumbling at times as the wall abruptly shifted, but managing to progress.

At long last he finally stopped. “You can open your eyes now.”

I blinked in the dim light. The pathway lay still for the moment, the large mirror at the end silent and waiting. The air grew heavier as we approached the mirror, our reflections rippling across the surface. My breath caught as the glass shimmered and the image shifted to reveal a vision of Frost alone. He stood in a world of endless snow, his expression serious, his shoulders weighed down by the mantle of his duties .

I watched as he crafted delicate snowflakes, each one a masterpiece of crystalline perfection, before sending them spiraling into the air with a flick of his fingers. The wind howled at his command, carrying blizzards to distant lands. I could almost feel the pull of his magic through the glass as he reached out to collect the frozen souls of those whose time had come, gently cradling them in his icy grasp.

This was the man I adored doing the work he loved, and yet…it wasn’t. His eyes, once filled with yearning and tenderness, were now cold and distant, frozen over with a steely resolve I hadn’t seen in him for some time—as if the flicker of humanity kindled by our love that I had come to cherish was now buried beneath layers of frost, as if he’d withdrawn into the very essence of winter itself.

Though he remained the master of the season, the spark of empathy and understanding that had begun to thaw the cold within him had been dimmed, leaving his heart untouched by the connection from when our fates became so entwined.

My heart clenched in sorrow at the sight of his isolation with magic as his only companion. Instinctively I reached for his reflection, my fingers brushing against his arm as the image dissolved, the mirror fading back into the icy wall. We stood in silence, the weight of the vision hanging between us, thick with unseen possibilities.

We eventually retraced our steps, the walls standing still and silent this time. Exchanging a glance, we ventured down the next path, where another mirror awaited us at the end, its glass swirling with shadows and light. This path was also lined with mirrors, but rather than a confusing maze, these seemed to be glimpses of other places, locations I longed to explore.

I paused to stare at a sun-drenched meadow, complete with cheerful daisies and a sumptuous picnic for two invitingly spread on the grass. Suddenly more aware of the cold that seemed in such contrast to the warm image, I ventured a step closer, anxious for a better look. Frost’s hand tightened on mine.

“It’s an illusion, but one that will trap you,” he warned. He nodded his head towards the wall on his side, which showed a stunning castle of ice and snow, even grander than the one Frost had built. On a turret stood the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, ethereal and enchanting, beckoning with a smile.

Frost edged away from the wall past the enticing vision, but his steps slowed when he saw an image of a child, shivering as a biting wind swirled around him and holding out a desperate hand for help. I felt him leaning towards it and frantically tugged at him.

“Look at me,” I whispered. “If we keep our eyes on each other, we can’t be led astray.”

We finally made our way to the end of this corridor, gazes fixed on each other, until we turned to face the end wall. I felt Frost tense beside me, his usual calm wavering as we approached, and I braced myself for whatever torment this mirror would reveal.

The glass shimmered, then cleared, revealing a vision of Frost living amongst mortals—no longer a life of eternal winter or boundless power, but one marked by fleeting moments of joy, laughter, and warmth. I saw him standing in a sunlit field, bathed in the golden glow of a late summer day. His expression, so often etched with the weight of his role as Winter’s Keeper, was softer, and he smiled in a new way, free from the mantle of winter’s icy grip, as though he had never known the burden of his icy crown.

Yet as the vision continued, its contents eventually shifted, revealing the full truth of what it meant to embrace humanity—not just the fleeting happiness but the inevitable hardships that accompanied it. Mingled with the moments of joy were heartache, sickness, and the creeping shadow of death Frost could no longer escape without his previous immortality.

I saw Frost kneeling by my bedside, his face drawn with grief as illness took its toll on me; I watched him age, his once-youthful features lined with the passage of time as his strength waned while the weight of mortality pressed down upon him, the vitality that had once shone in his eyes faded.

This life, if he chose it, wouldn’t be a dream of endless happiness…though it would be a complete experience—rich with both love and sorrow, laughter and tears, where every finite moment mattered. Frost would feel the warmth of human touch, but also the cold bite of mortality…and one day his body would fail him, and I would be forced to watch him wither, piece by piece.

My chest tightened as I watched the life that could be ours. There was something profoundly beautiful in the simplicity in his movements of a man living an ordinary life no longer bound to the seasons. The thought of living a life free from the barriers of his immortality where every finite moment mattered was intoxicating—a life where we could walk hand in hand, share the warmth of the sun, and experience the joys and sorrows of a mortal existence together—real, messy, and heartbreakingly beautiful. Could I savor such a life with him, even at the cost of being forced to watch him suffer and age, knowing that time would eventually steal him from me, whittling his lifespan down from infinite millennia to a handful of decades?

As I wrestled with these emotions, the vision shifted once more, revealing the full price of such a choice—not just for Frost and the magic he wielded, but for the world and the balance he maintained; Borealis would take his place as Winter’s Keeper.

Whereas Frost’s touch balanced sleet and howling winds with gentle snowfalls and quiet stillness, Borealis would wield winter like an unyielding storm, commanding blizzards with unrelenting ferocity to increase his power and glory in his might. Bitter frost would dominate as the world shivered under Borealis’s reign, his icy winds shrieking across the land with little regard for the humans that Frost had respected for so long. Winter would be robbed of its beauty and meaning—no longer would it be a time of rest and refreshment between growing seasons, with the magic of frosted windowpanes and hot chocolate after sleigh rides, but a daily struggle for survival.

This decision was about more than just us and our feelings for one another—it was about the preservation of the seasons and the mortals who would suffer under harsher winters. Should Frost choose mortality, the world would be forever changed.

When the vision melted away this mirror also vanished, leaving us with nothing but the cold air between us. I hesitated before slowly turning to Frost, needing to know how he felt in the face of such a choice. His expression was unreadable, his gaze still fixed on the space where the mirror had stood, as if he could still see the life and death it had shown him…along with the dire cost.

"What are you thinking?" I started to reach for his hand but then drew back, not wanting to influence him as he wrestled with such a decision.

He turned to me, his eyes softening as they met mine, the warmth of his gaze cutting through the chill that had settled in my heart. “I see the life I could have with you,” he murmured. “But I also see the burden it would bring…not just for me, but for the world I’ve sworn to protect. ”

He said nothing more, but his hand tightened around mine as we moved back down the hallway and faced the final path.

As we took the first step down the corridor, a powerful wind gusted against us and my hand slipped from Frost’s. I gasped as I stumbled into the wall, where the mirrored panels reflected nothing but darkness. Frost reached towards me, but the icy path between us cracked, forming a chasm deeper than I could see and trapping him with no way forward.

Frost extended a hand, summoning his magic, but his features sagged in despair as he remembered that his powers were dormant here in the presence of more powerful enchantment. Clenching his jaw, he crouched and sprang over the fissure towards me. He made it nearly to the other side, frantic fingers catching the edge as he nearly fell. With shaking hands, I knelt to help pull him up, and this time he wrapped his arm securely around me, holding me tightly to his side as we continued forward.

The path offered no further resistance. Our footsteps echoed in the silence as we approached the final mirror. This time, the reflection awaiting us was darker, more twisted, casting a chill even colder than the frozen air around us. As the vision began to unfold, I barely recognized the figure before me—Frost, but not as I’d ever known him.

He sat upon a jagged throne of ice, looming high above a barren wasteland frozen in perpetual winter. His expression had hardened beyond recognition, his once-piercing eyes now cold and empty, devoid of the warmth or compassion that had once flickered there. This was not the Frost who had risked everything to save me and who had learned to embrace the delicate balance of his power—this was a ruler consumed by winter, no longer its protector but its tyrant who allowed the season to devour all within its icy reach, worse even than Borealis’s dispassionate rule would be.

The court surrounding him was filled with what appeared to be a court of frozen statues, standing in silent submission to their icy monarch. My heart twisted in horror when upon closer examination I realized they weren’t statues but people —innocent souls Frost’s power had claimed, frozen in time after he had imprisoned them in eternal winter, bound to him for all eternity to fuel his power yet unable to fill the endless void filling his heart.

The vision shifted, showing cities buried beneath thick layers of snow and ice, entire civilizations reduced to ghostly remnants. No laughter or warmth remained, no light pierced the heavy clouds that choked the sky. The inhabitants were frozen where they stood—caught in the streets, huddled in their homes, claimed by the relentless cold. Frost walked among them, indifferent to their suffering as he surveyed his handiwork with cool approval.

A shudder rippled through me as I realized this was the fate of the world should he fulfill his duty and claim my soul after learning to love me—the pain of his grief and the bleakness of an eternity alone wresting away the compassion that had always resided in his heart and had blossomed along with our growing relationship. Without me, his unyielding power would grow unchecked, warping him into this cold, merciless figure who no longer safeguarded the season’s balance he once valued, but instead let winter consume everything in its path…including himself.

As much as I yearned, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene, my hand trembling in his. Sorrow clenched my heart and the weight of the vision pressed down on me, a cruel reminder of the fate Frost would face should he lose the love we had forged once my soul moved on as was nature’s proper course—alone, untouched by warmth or love, his power so absolute that it destroyed the very world he had once sought to protect.

This trial wasn’t just about Frost’s immortality, or even saving or losing me—it would decide whether Frost could hold onto his humanity…or let winter consume him entirely.