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achillesthepookiest1 · 11 hours

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Ice.

chapter 2 :

she'd cry everyday 𓍯𓂃

It was raining heavily. I stood amidst the rain and watched the people run for shelter with disdain. It was said that when it rained, it was the tears of the Silver Kingdom’s queen. Her eyes, I could imagine, were swollen.

It was rumoured that the queen built this kingdom herself while her dumb husband sat on the throne lazily. I could believe that. Centuries ago, when she disappeared, the king said she ascended to heaven and watched over her people from there. It rained all the time, which meant she’d cry every day.

I looked at my reflection through the raindrops falling in reverse. I had black, untidy hair and heavy luggage under my dark eyes. My face was sharp and slanted. Like the end of a knife. I had a sharp arm, I had blunt legs, and my head was huge.

I was near the fountain on Mentor Street. I was awaiting a silvered neck, big head, lousy human. The king was tall and blond. I sent him an invitation to meet me here. I had something to show him—a magic trick. It was a simple one too—second nature. Like a fool, he’d come and go without guards. I never signed my name; I knew the ego of the king wouldn’t be able to handle that.

This impulse I was acting on was like a vein in my heart; it ran deep, and it never signed its name. My ego wouldn’t be able to handle that. Up, I was fed.

The exhaustion seeped into my bones. I was so tired, of breathing air, of walking feet, of humans and their power struggle.

I wanted to stand on top of their human flesh. They burned our homes, stole our land, and burned our kin. They needed to be taught a lesson; this one was for the books. But this wasn’t revenge. It was an urge to see chaos descend on the world, to see pain on their faces, and to look in a mirror and see satisfaction on mine.

A man with a crown on his head walked up to the fountain. King Arthur— the unsightly jewel of this terrible place. He looked left and right and scratched his head with one hand; his other held a parasol. I walked up to him, and I brought down the umbrella to hide my face.

“King Arthur? Is that you?”

He turned around quickly, startled, “Oh! Yes? What can I do for you?”

I chuckled a little. “I’m your biggest fan! Can I get an autograph?” I had the umbrella acting as a mask; if he saw my face, he’d know who I was, but he could never guess what I was up to. No one could, really, not even my mother. She was fed up with me. I was a plate of mischief, and she was full.

“Sure, where do I sign?” He said, All cool. I was the one with the shades.

“Oh, could we go over there? I want you to sign somewhere secret.” I pointed to an alleyway.

Like an idiot, he followed me with flushed cheeks. As soon as we reached the alley, I turned around and threw my umbrella down. He had shock on his face, his mouth agape.

“You-”

I knocked him out with my palm on his chin. He fell forward, and I caught him. I took out a rope from my expandable pocket and tied him up swiftly. I felt a little dirty having to touch him.

I spun around, and voila, I was the king. Shape-shifting was second nature for a witch. I wasn’t a normal witch; I was a cursed one. My shape-shifting was erratic and could come undone with even the slightest spike of emotion.

I altered the king’s appearance to that of a homeless man I saw on the streets. I laughed. My magic was a curse; it ran on evil. It was black in my teeth and white on my tongue.

Was I the bad guy? Obviously. It was a thrill in my veins, like anesthesia. I was the doctor, and the world was my patient. I was the mad scientist, and the world was my experiment. You should have known better.

I left the king in that alley. I walked with his parasol and my shades. I walked the walk to my brand new castle.

My plan—my impulse—was not just to steal the king’s identity. No, it went deeper than that. I was going to take over the world. I couldn’t just stop at one kingdom.

See, there were two kingdoms. The silver and the gold There was much animosity between the two; they were like a cat and a dog, and so the kings of the two kingdoms made a proposal—a marriage proposal. The princess of the silver kingdom would marry the prince of the gold kingdom, and then everyone would live happily ever after. Over. my. dead. body.

No one got to live happily as long as I breathed. I was the pollution in this polluted world, and I’d infect everyone.

King Arthur was invited over to the Gold Kingdom to prepare for his daughter’s wedding. That was what King Arthur was supposed to do, but what he’d be doing instead is beg people for silver while I take out his daughter and her fiancée, as well as King Edward.

The castle was impressive. Huge walls made of steel and a bridge. Soldiers and guards were everywhere. People stood on the balconies, hanging clothes. The walls were as hard as rock, and the gates were sacred. So was the land, or at least used to be.

This used to be the land of the elves until humans took it for themselves. They needed to rule over everything, and if they couldn’t understand with their small minds, they’d kill, ban, or do both.

I walked through the gates, and the guards bowed. I paid them no mind. They were standing in the pouring rain with no shelter; I couldn’t care less.

There in the yard stood the tower to the sky. I was always curious about it, so I made my way to it. My curiosity was a cat. I walked the stairs, and halfway through, I decided to teleport. I accidentally cursed the walls, oops.

There at the top was a steel door. I opened it, and my throat closed.

There was a huge bird cage, and in the middle was a pretty silver-haired woman crying through a hole in the floor. Her ears were long; they were sacred. She was an elf, and she was the queen of this steel, trapped like a bird with cut wings. I couldn’t have hated humans more.

She looked at me with sharp green eyes and said, “Aigo, child of chaos."

I bowed immediately. “Your Majesty." When I realised this, I stood upright and scoffed. I was so overtaken by the sight before me that I forgot who I was. “Sorry to shine on your rainy day.”

She laughed and then said, “Child, your heart is so dark; when will you let the light in?”

“There is no light, so, um, never.”

“Delusional people make the best liars,” said the queen.

She called me delusional. I was not. I was practical. I was evil.

I broke the door to the cage. “Who put you in here?” I asked as I walked to her.

She laughed sadly to herself, “I love him; truly,, I do, but sometimes love makes us stupid. I’ve wasted tears and my years on that man.”

“Yeah, you’re almost as dumb as him if you let him lock you away and take all the credit for your work.”

She looked at me. I don’t know what she was trying to do, but her eyes said she knew something about me.

“You’re just as stupid, maybe even stupider.” The queen declared, and I shook my head.

“Hell no, now get out of here.”

I was the bad guy, and that was why I opened the door.

She stood, “It is about time I take back the throne. Thank you,, Aigo.”

“Don’t thank me; I did nothing; you could’ve broken out yourself, and once I take over the gold kingdom, I’m coming for the silver." I crossed my arms.

She kissed my cheek and said, “Love will always catch up to you, no matter how fast you run away.”

“Love is for losers.”

“All the king’s men and all the king’s horses—you are the biggest loser amongst their forces.”

I regretted opening that cage the minute she spoke. What was done was done, I’d get her back for that.

I stomped all the way down with a sweet tasting anger. Like a mother telling her child off, the child wanted to be angry but deep down he knew there was only truth in her words. I refused profusely. I was not that child but maybe, she was that mother.

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achillesthepookiest1 · 5 days

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Ice.

chapter 1 :

this fairy had a garden 𓍯𓂃

It was a burned and forgotten memory, back when I was good.

My mother’s tears were blood on my shirt. I was running, not stopping, like I was underwater, I couldn’t come up for air. I was suffocating, I was being buried under sea shells. There was a bounty on my head, I was well-known for being a prophecy, they said I was prophesied to be Satan’s little helper and I’d grow up to be a big dictator. So, they were slowly pulling the legs of my spider until I was nothing. I would not amount to nothing. My spider-web was empty, I was the prey. Back then.

The memory was burned in my eyes. My mother kneeling on the floor, bloodied and barely alive. Run, run, run, she screamed. And so I did. No air.

The Beverly forest was a foreign thing to me when I was a child. My first memory of it wasn’t that of it being a home but where I found and lost love. It slipped from my fingers as soon as I closed my eyes.

I was running and then I stopped. Green surrounded me, the forest had me in her arms but she could not soothe me. I was burning. There was a huge ice bath and in the middle of the frozen kingdom stood a little boy, like me. I was little and scared and so was he. He caught my eyes, crystals.

“Hey! Do you need help?” My voice wavered but it carried over the lake.

“Come get me!” He shouted with a broken throat. One that had been screaming out to deaf ears. Deafening screams in a broken kingdom.

When I was still good, I walked the ice kingdom to get to him. We met in the middle, and he wiped his face with his hands. He had been crying. I held his hand and slowly courted him to safety. He was a prince in gold, and I was the wicked witch of the forest. I was good back then, but words could change you.

I wanted to ask, “Why do you cry?” but instead I stayed dumb. So, he said, “Let me show you something.” With tears in his mouth.

We walked along the path lit by fireflies, and there was a little gate. He went, and I followed. The gate squeaked, and I laughed. The world was falling over itself. I collapsed near a little pond in this little fairy’s garden.

I was over my head, my head to my knees, and crystals in my eyes. He gave me his shoulder and let me cry till I emptied my tear ducts. The running water and the broken facet. I was a crying leg and he was a crying arm, and we never asked the head to stop hurting us; instead, I grew ice in my chest and he grew spiders in his head.

In the moment, I was good. Not jolly, not happy, but kind to everyone but myself. He was bad, but good to me. He kicked the ice and scoffed at the elves, but he might just grow to be truthful. I never got to see it.

As the world was shrinking to just the two of us, we caved into ourselves. It hit me like a comet; my mother was gone, and I was alone. I couldn’t contain the evil in me; it poured out, and the flowers started to wilt. It got hot quick, and I was so cold. I felt like I was watching myself die. The magic was boiling hot, and it cursed everything it touched.

“Shh, it’s going to be just right.” Like ice to a wound, he calmed me down with something kind. It was magic, but unlike my own. It soothed my pain, but it couldn’t stop the facet. It couldn’t stop death. It couldn’t change the cruelty of humans or of Lady Life. Maybe one day he might find the secret.

This was the day he learned kindness, and I became ruthless. We were like two peas in a pod, drowning after so long of being on land.

I was in his arms, and he was sitting on my legs. It was awkward, but sadness never cared for proper. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, he was gone. I felt cold, and my broken facet was empty. That was the last time I cried. That was the last time I trusted. Secretly, I wished to see him grow like a beanstalk, but everything I touched wilted. I was a prophecy, a curse.

The Queen of the Forest stood a few metres away from me; she took me in her arms after I hugged her legs.

“What is wrong, little one? Why do you cry?”

I screamed raw in my throat, “They killed my mother!”

She looked at me with familiarity. It was a cold look, but it warmed my insides. It couldn’t mend what was broken, but it could build something new in its wake.

I never saw him again. I never got his name. I knew him as the ice in my heart. As a burned memory, right at the core. It was what I was running on and running from.

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