For starters, I apologize for the kind of sappy description.?

Please read the previous chapters if you have not yet:
Chapter Eight:?https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=76714
Chapter Seven:?>https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=76055
Chapter Six:? >https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=75647
Chapter Five (which also has links to 1-4):?>https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=75388

Enjoy and let me know what you think! I appreciate every single read for these stories, and if you leave a comment, I can thank you in person.

Glaceonwhisper:

As promised, you make a brief appearance in this chapter. Because 'glaceonwhisper' would sound weird in the story world, I used the name you listed as your real name in your profile. I hope you don't mind.


One in two,
A coin has faces anew.
Two in one,
The sky has both the moon and the sun.

DOPPELGANGER

Droplets of snow, frozen tears of the sky, drifted down towards her as Ellie tread the thin brown path, a median in the darkness, towards the town in the distance. It looked oddly familiar, but most definitely not in a comforting way, especially as she could not recall where she’d seen it before. It was, however, better than a graveyard or the solid block of darkness; that, she decided, was probably where the path ended in a sudden drop. If will-o-the-wisps and goblins existed, no doubt all of them would try to lead her there.

Ellie tried to brush snow off her braid and eye lashes, but found it stuck like burrs to cotton. She was walking through a junkyard of some sort now, the growing mounds of cloud dandruff dangerously concealing metal and glass that’d happily oblige to slicing her legs open. There was a slight wind, but it smelled stale, and there was not a single living organism in sight, not even the rats or cockroaches Ellie thought would belong in such a place. She wound her way through, carefully testing each step. Though the snow was beginning to cover it, a trail of dotted blurbs of dried blood snaked its way ahead of her.

Ellie leaned over and rubbed a finger against it, as if to ascertain if it was really blood. A spark erupted, and she drew back, shaking her hand and then sucking her finger. After that, she avoided following the blotches.

Ellie stopped in what was probably a town square, cracked cobblestone and buildings hunched under gravity’s weight forming the walls to an oversized pen faded with grime. Hints of a gloried past hung heavy in the air, along with signs of a sudden and cataclysmic end.

She frowned. As she stood there, a pervading sense of anger and righteousness fell over her, and Ellie wanted to level the place, leave not one building standing and not one stone on top of the other. It’d be justified too. The place deserved it. She could feel the pulses from the stone beneath her feet, and she needed to end them, to wrench out its dying, cancerous, rotten heart and-

What am I thinking? She snapped out of it, just now aware of the below-zero temperature, and shivered. Her ugly sweater was not as warm as she thought it’d be.

Wait. She was still wearing that rag pretending to be clothing?

A soft chime caught her attention, followed by the more clashing, ringing shout of metal striking fellow metal. Ellie headed towards it, the sound raising in volume and intensity as she neared it. “A person,” she said to the dead air. “Maybe they can tell me what happened here.”

When she reached her destination, she let out a huge breath and grinned. “A blacksmith,” she breathed. An anvil, seeming very out-of-place compared to the rubble surrounding it, was perched by a makeshift stone hearth. A man with a long, curled beard and rippling waves of muscle hammered at what looked to be the blade of a sword. “Hello?” she called.

The man’s lip curled, but he didn’t look up. “What’you want? If you’re smart, you’ll get the heck out of here before that-“ He spat. “Before that demon comes back.”

“What demon?” Ellie asked, stepping closer.

The man wiped his hands on his apron. “Where’ve you been livin’ for the past couple days, eh?” He took one look at her face, and his own became a volcano red. “You!” he barked, baring his teeth. He reached next to the anvil and produced a much larger, blunter hammer, clearly meant to be a weapon. Ellie gulped. Surely he didn’t mean to use that?

“Something up?” she asked, finding the words did not come easily; she had to clear her throat between ‘something’ and ‘up.’ She took another step back.

“We don’t need the likes of you here!”

Ellie broke eye contact. His were too steely and sharp, like the metal he was shaping, for her to maintain it. “My apologies, b-but I don’t know what you m-mean by likes of m-me,” she stammered, continuing a slow walk back. It was just her luck, though, that she tripped over a protruding stone and fell onto her rump with a gasp.

“Not done killin’?” he demanded. “Why’d you come back here? Back to the scene of the crime, huh?”

“Uh, what?”

“Get lost!” he roared.

Oh, she would. She would so definitely love to, but she found her muscles refused to move, and she was fixed on the spot, lying there with her hands back and her eyes wide. She couldn’t even respond, though her mouth opened and closed as the man came closer, bloodlust roiling in his posture and glare.

“Get outta here before I bash your gooey brains in!” he commanded.

Her breath burst out irregularly, but somehow she managed to stand shakily and respond, “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on!”

The eloquent reply was let forth a primordial roar coupled with a snarl of pure hatred and what may have loosely been interpreted as an attempt to yell, “Demons’ spawn!”

Ellie closed her eyes, abandoning her rational mind, which had been quite useless during the entire confrontation, and gave into instinct. Deep pain welled in her gut as the hammer collided, probably breaking something, and Ellie collapsed backwards, coughing. Once the fit had subsided, she realized she’d spat up quite a lot of dark red. That should have worried her, but she found she heard a ringing in her ears and wasn’t quite sure what to think of anything, much less her physical condition.

Then she realized the man was oddly silent.

She was unable to stand, so she merely looked up, and gave a cry of disbelief.

He was solid ice.

“Oh, dear. Him, too? That makes nearly everyone, dear. Your wrath knows no bounds.”

“What? No! It was an accident!” she protested. “I certainly wasn’t wrathful about it!” She squinted. A figure seemed to be advancing from the horizon. Another pang of pain reverberated in her stomach, and not because of the wound. She knew she’d seen this person somewhere, just from the way they walked and carried themselves.

"This was no accident. This destruction was all your fault. Why do you think he reacted the way he did when he saw you? What a shame it is that you forget our every encounter, and your memory returns slower than time’s relentless, snail-paced plod."?

The figure stopped in the shadows, just beyond the blacksmith’s clearing. Ellie had a sudden urge to shout at it, irritated. It’d done so on purpose, to lead her on, to scare her more than she already was- as if that was possible.
"You keep accumulating injuries, hmm? Last time you cut yourself. That was quite clumsy of you. Now, though, you have some of me in you, though I unfortunately have some of you. My, you can complain for hours. What a whiny idiot. Anyway… I am finally getting through that thick head of yours."

“Wha- who are you?”

The figure laughed and stepped into the light. The woman was a near-perfect replica of Ellie, were it not for the white pupils and black surrounding the ice-blue irises, a reversal of the normal pigmentation that seemed to take away her humanity. She licked her lips, a twisted leer spreading on its face. “Welcome back, Ellie. My, how I’ve missed you.”

Ellie tried to stand, despite the pulsing pain. The figure laughed. “Really? What are you going to do, try and run?”

Ellie took one step, and screamed in agony. Blackness returned as her vision clouded out and she crumpled to the ground.

The not-her strode to her and stroked her cheek. “Oh, come now. Really? No need to be so scared. I’m quite nice to those who don’t resist.”




The smell hit Ellie before the images did, a sterile stench of antiseptic and disinfectant trying to hide behind a mask of the sickly sweet scent of a vase of flowers. That was the second thing Ellie registered, two vases by her bedside. One was filled with pink flowers, the other red roses. The roses were no doubt from Damien. It was the kind of thing he’d do.

Next to the bedside table, Damien slept on one of the couches hospitals in Roulinn tended to have in case a family member wished to spend the night with a patient. It must have been a remnant of the disorientation of dreams, then, that despite noticing all this she still had no idea where she was, why she was wearing this cotton shift, and why Damien was sleeping in a chair like she was some kind of invalid.

Oh, right. She was.

Ellie lifted ah and, pleased to see she didn’t have an IV, and spread her fingers apart. Nothing strange there; it was just her pale, manicured hand as per usual. “Hmm.” She lightly tapped the bedframe, almost beginning to expect ice to leap out in tiny spears to cover the metal. Ellie was pleasantly surprised to feel the coldness of the bar, but nothing else. “No ice,” she murmured. “Well. Now, that is strange.”

She sat up, limbs stiff and stomach feeling oddly pained for some reason, and gently shook Damien’s shoulder.

“Damien?”

He yawned, smacked his lips, and opened eyes heavy with sleep. “Oh, hey.” He gave a half-grin, a lopsided effort that made Ellie smile back. “Glad to see you up, Ellie.”

“How long was I out?”

“About a day. They told me you’d wake up soon, so I didn’t want to miss you.” Damien groaned. “Ugh, I have a crick in my neck.”

“Sorry.”

“Didn’t we talk about your making stupid apologies?” Damien teased, rubbing her head affectionately. “Even so, it’s good to hear you talk. You had me worried there; I’ve been here for hours.”

“Are you missing work?” Ellie asked. “Was it really all right to stay here the whole time?”

“No, probably not,” Damien replied, and winked. “When you’re the son of the president, though, they’ll bend over backwards to make it all right.”

Ellie chuckled. “How nice of your father.”

“Mother came by earlier,” Damien said. “She left the pink flowers; the roses are from me. She’s staying at the house, and wants to help out a bit until you’re better.”

Well, point one for Ellie. Unfortunately, there was also point one for whatever forces were against her. She still had to piece together her strange… ability… that seemed to be gone, and her coming down with hypothermia out of the blue. The last thing she needed while trying to figure everything out was her in-laws hanging around.

“She’s too kind,” Ellie said.

“I’ll be sure to tell her. Oh, yeah.” He perked up, as if just remembering something. “Some Miss Highwater came by earlier to see you, but you were out cold- forgive the pun, it was not intended- and is hanging around in town somewhere. She left me a number to call her when you wake up.”

“I can call,” Ellie said.

“You know her?”

“She was my headmistress, before I was withdrawn,” Ellie answered. “I wouldn’t say we were close, but I suppose she took notice of me. Most of the teachers there did.” She sighed. “We can go home tonight, right?”

“No. They want to keep you for observation,” Damien answered. “They were going to plug you with an IV if you didn’t want up today.”

“Well, lucky me.” Ellie flexed her fingers, a lethargy plucking at them, but the numbness of earlier had fled. Had she hallucinated the whole thing, part of the hypothermia? Maybe there never was any ice. Warmth spread across her cheeks as she considered she may have called Miss Highwater panicking over a delusion. Wouldn’t that be swell?
…Yet, then why would she come into Gett City, all the way from Haven? And there were also those questions…

“Ellie,” Damien cut into her thoughts. “Were you having nightmares?”

“No, I don’t dream,” Ellie said. “You know I often don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Damien shook his head. He stood and stretched, arms poised over his head. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat.”

“Feel free,” Ellie said, and smiled. “I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re getting hungry.”

“You want anything?” Damien asked.

“Sure. Maybe something light; my stomach’s all out of wack, and I wouldn’t want to throw up.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Damien agreed. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Are you going to be all right on your own?”

“Most definitely,” Ellie replied.

Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Most probably,” Ellie amended.

“Are you sure?”

“Moderately so.”

“Okay, dear.” Damien was nearly out the door. “You absolutely sure?”

Ellie laughed. “Go!” She made a shooing motion. “I’ll be fine.”

“All righty.” He blew her a kiss and disappeared. Ellie shook her head.

“That Damien,” she muttered.

Damien poked his head through the door. “Are you really-“

“Seriously, Damien!”

He pulled away, laughing, and Ellie chuckled as well. “Jeez.” She turned to look out the window, smiling. “It could be worse,” she said to the sunshine. “He could be worse.”




The outdoor caf? was punctuated with the aroma of baked pastries and roasted coffees. A low hum of conversation resounded, the murmur of chitchat accented with waitresses’ calls and patrons’ beckons.

Sariel Highwater sat under an umbrella, and noted that despite the sun, it was rather chilly out, which made her long for warmer climes. That, in turn, made her long for summer, which made her lust for summer break. It was scandalous, she supposed, that a headmistress would look forward to a break from academics, but what with the sudden lapse of work to worry about and the perfect stretch of time to visit her father and relatives, it was the most-anticipated part of her year. Before she could ruminate on her planned vacation, a waitress interrupted her.

“The doughnut you ordered, ma’am,” she said with a quick curtsy before gliding away to give another customer their food.

Sariel raised it to the light and frowned. “I don’t think this is real chocolate. All that money on this doughnut, and they think they can get away with fake chocolate?” She touched it with the tip of her tongue, frowned, shrugged, and took a bite.

“Yes, this is most definitely not the real deal,” Sariel declared. She took another bite anyway, and chewing, had her eyes grow wide as she realized she didn’t have a cup of milk to go with it. She hastily swallowed, however, when she noticed Damien enter. “Oh, yes,” she mused. “This is the caf? right across the street from the hospital. If he’s here, I wonder…”

She stood and strode to him, smiling. “Good afternoon, Lord Morvant,” she greeted, and curtsied.

“Ah, Miss Highwater,” Damien said, surprised. “Were you having lunch?”

“Yes. I tend to eat lunch a little late,” she answered. “Not to intrude, but is Ellie awake?”

Damien nodded. “She was going to call. I guess she hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“No, I didn’t get a call,” Miss Highwater replied. “I shouldn’t be bothering you…”

“No, it’s no bother. Actually, wait just a second.” He placed a quick order- coffee and a glazed doughnut, the classic combination, Miss Highwater noticed- and then asked, “Is it all right if I sit at your table.”

“Of course. Have a seat, please.” They both sat down, Damien opposite Sariel. She folded her hands and choked back a sigh. This felt incredibly awkward.

“So, Ellie tells me you were her headmistress,” Damien said at length.

“I was,” Sariel acknowledged. “Ellie was a bright student. I was a friend of her father’s, so I knew her a little better than most students, but I’m afraid I didn’t spend much time with her when she was young.”

“Well, you seem like a busy woman,” Damien remarked. “Headmistress of the Academy.” He whistled. “Even I’ve heard of Haven Academy, all the way up here. It’s got quite a reputation.”

Sariel chuckled nervously. “I’ve tried to keep it up to the previous headmaster’s expectations. It hasn’t been easy, though.”

“Previous headmaster?” Damien inquired.

“The Baron Ervine,” Sariel replied, “and a friend of my mother’s.”

“Did you like him?”

“Oh, no, I loathed him,” Sariel laughed. “I couldn’t stand him! He was downright despicable. At least he knew how to run a school, though.” She sighed. “When I was about my brother’s age, it was still legal to give students beatings. I was quite boisterous, and he particularly enjoyed brandishing the whip for me.”

“Ouch.” Damien winced. “I wouldn’t guess, looking at you. You seem like a very disciplined woman.”

Sariel smirked. “I suppose the punishment worked, then.”

“My mother always brought out the belt when I was misbehaving too,” Damien admitted. “I would get tanned pretty badly; sometimes I couldn’t sit down for a couple days. I was a troublemaker, especially with my first girlfriend…” He paused. “Not exactly the star son. But I turned it around later.”

A waiter brought Damien’s coffee and doughnut, but he barely paid attention to it. “If you don’t mind my asking, you have an accent, but it’s not like Ellie’s regional one. Where are you from?”

“The west,” Miss Highwater said, “near the desert. My father was one of the indigenous people there.”

“You don’t really look like it.”

“I have his height,” she said, “but that’s about it. My mother’s side of the family apparently has very dominant genes.”

“I, meanwhile, look like my grandfather,” Damien told her. “Ellie says she looks like her mother, but she’s never shown me a single picture of the woman.”

“I knew Eleanor Giata,” Sariel said. “There is a resemblance, but honestly, Ellie doesn’t quite have her mother’s eyes. Or the attitude, I suppose…”

“You knew Ellie’s mother…” Damien hummed a little, thoughtfully. “Miss, you don’t know if sold Memories could be returned, could you?”

“I never studied it. I didn’t have any inclination towards the Gift,” she shrugged. “Even if I did, I don’t think that Intangible Pawning is something that would interest me.”

“Did you ever study any of the magics?” Damien asked.

Sariel took another bite of her doughnut before answering. “I did, but I didn’t have the gift for charming or Intangible Pawning, and the others aren’t quite socially acceptable. Not that I could do them anyway; I find I have more talent in the theory than the actual practice, regardless of what.”

“So, um, Highwater’s an interesting last name,” Damien said.

That made her laugh. “It’s not my last name at all; my last name is Alexis-Mass. Highwater’s my title.”

“Alexis-Mass?”

“Alexis is my maiden name, and Mass was the last name of my late husband,” Sariel said. Bluntly, before he could ask, she said, “He drowned.”

“Oh.” Damien seemed a little put off-guard by her forwardness. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Whatever for? It wasn’t your fault.” She took yet another bite. “I try not to think about it, honestly, but it doesn’t hurt as badly as it used to.”

“I see. Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for things you didn’t do,” Sariel said, and Damien turned a beet red. “What?”

“Now I know why she keeps doing that…” he muttered. Sariel didn’t ask for an explanation.

Damien smacked his forehead. “Drat! I said I’d get her something to eat. I’ll be right back.” He wound his way to the front of the caf? again and placed another order as Sariel leaned back in her chair and looked up at the sky. Snowflakes were beginning to meander down. Sariel hated snow.

When another waiter handed him a bag of to-go, he said, “I’ve got to go and give Ellie this.” He raised the bag, as if there was another object in question. “You can come with me, if you want. Visitor hours are probably ending, but they won’t say no to a Baron.”

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing her doughnut and following him.

“My pleasure,” he responded.

They were in the lobby of the hospital when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Miss Highwater plucked it out and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Sis?”

“Oh, Andrew.” She clicked her tongue. “What is it?”

“I wanted to know when you were coming home, that’s all,” he replied.

“Soon. I’m in a hospital right now; I’ll call you back later.”

“You’re in a hospital? What, is your dad okay? Did he have a stroke?”

“He’s not that old!” Sariel hissed. “He’s fine. I’m seeing a friend.”

“I thought you said it was a family emergency.”

“Yes, well, I had to say something,” she said.

“Mother’s not going to be pleased.”

“She won’t have to know.” Her tone switched to be sweeter. “You’re not going to tell, are you?”

“No, not me,” Andrew replied, “if you let me off the detention for pranking Mr. Stern.”

“You pranked Mr. Sterne-Bryner?” she exclaimed incredulously. Damien raised an eyebrow, and Sariel lowered her voice. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing much. Oh, I also broke my leg.”

“WHAT?”

This earned her several more glares, to which she glared back. She didn’t have to act professional away from the school, when they didn’t recognize her face- merely her name.

“I broke my leg,” Andrew repeated in a sharp tone. “Adrienne’s cat got stuck up a tree and she promised me a ki- uh, she said she’d give me chocolate if I could get it down. The cat came down, but I fell and broke my leg. Mother wants to know when you’ll be home. She needs your help around the house.”

“Isn’t your father there?”

“He’s on a business trip,” Andrew said. “Unlike your father, mine has a job.”

“My father is employed!” she retorted. “He’s a general. Anyway, I’ll be back soon. Tomorrow, probably. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” She hung up with a sigh.

“Family issues?” Damien asked, leading her towards Ellie’s room.

“Teenaged little brothers,” she replied.




Nido waited until he was certain Sable had fallen asleep. Her being ill, and sleep helping quite a bit when her health took a down-turn, this was easy. He tread to the tower he knew she kept the Mirror hidden away, unlocked the five locks without caring who’d hear him, and stood in the darkness, not closing the door behind him. He had the feeling he might need a quick escape.

The Mirror was an artifact passed down the royal family, from heir to heir like a crown. Unlike Sable’s crown, however, Nido was absolutely certain this inheritance was cursed.

“Hello?” he called, striding to it. “You have five seconds to make me not want to smash you before I punch you in.”
“Oh, come now,” retorted his reflection. “Is that really what you want, Nido?” The reflection did not mirror the form of the eight-year-old he wore now, but rather a fourteen-year-old with slightly longer and messier hair. It was, however, unmistakably him, were it not for the white pupils. To see both the whites of the eye and the pupils such a blank lack of color was slightly unnerving.

“Who’re you?” he demanded.

“I’m the Mirror,” the reflection said. “I’m the image in the glass. I’m your reflection. I’m Nyiarenel-Dorian. I’m you.”

“Shut up. I am much better-looking,” Nido said, raising his chin. “You still haven’t told me why I shouldn’t smash you yet.”

“See this girl?” Nyiarenel-Dorian said, waving his hand so that an image of Ellie hovered nearby. “I can tell you all about her.”

“Like I care.”

“All right then. How about this one?” Another wave, and Ellie’s image was replaced with that of his mother.

“She’s dead. Nothing to know,” Nido scoffed.

“I’m not done yet,” Nyiarenel-Dorian chuckled, producing yet another.

“Freyja? Really?” As Nido watched, however, Freyja’s image melted into that of Sable’s, a happier, rosey-cheeked Sable clearly much healthier than the one he knew today.

“You love your sister, don’t you?” Nyiarenel-Dorian said. “And she loves you. She practically raised you after your parents died, after all.”

“Yeah. So?”

“There’s things she’s hiding from you, you know.”

“Naturally,” Nido replied. “Seriously? You think I don’t know that? There’s some reason she’s stuck with a throne she doesn’t want. There’s some reason she avoids using her magic. There’s some reason her health is plummeting. There’s some reason she’s addicted to you. I know she’s hiding all of that from me. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Don’t you want to know why she needs me?” Nyiarenel-Dorian asked.

“No. I want to smash you in.”

“I give her power. Have you seen her when she does bother using her Frost Breather abilities? Have you seen what she can do? It’s amazing, really.” Nyiarenel-Dorian whistled. “She had an inherent ability, that one. All the better. The more talented they start out, the more they can do with me.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should. Because you know what I also provide her? Intelligence. I know every traitor in her regime. Those names she has you investigate? Where do you think she got them from, hmm? How do you think she knows about what’s going on all over the kingdom before the messengers arrive?”

Now that the Mirror mentioned it, a couple years ago, a band of Fenris had attacked a village to the east of Arctic City, and Sable had already been on her way to deal with it before word had even reached the palace. It’d been odd, but Nido hadn’t thought much of it at the time…

“I still don’t care,” he said. “She can wait an extra day or two to find out what’s going on.”

“Your heart is iron,” Nyiarenel-Dorian said. “I could have fun with that.”

“Go die in a hole.”

“I can’t. I’m trapped in the Mirror.”

“But…” Nido scowled. “You’re close to getting out, aren’t you? What, did you suck my mother’s health from her until she committed suicide because she couldn’t handle it, and now you’re taking Sable’s? How many people have you stolen from?”

“It’s not theft when they give it to me,” the Mirror replied. “You can’t understand. You haven’t tasted it yet. My power. You haven’t wiped out entire towns. You haven’t felt the ecstasy I can bring. So, here. Have some, free of charge. Think of it as a demo.”

A wave of warmth coiled over Nido, soft and enticing, almost seductive in its charm. The Mirror was trying to win him over, and he knew it. Nido ran at it, screaming, even as the blessed sweetness washed over him, and he loved it. He skidded to a stop, hand poised right in front of the glass.

“You understand why no one can crush me?” the Mirror said. “There was someone who tried. And I killed her.”

A last image flashed, and Nido recognized her. “The fourth woman from the picture.”

He also knew the face from somewhere else, because it was Freyja and Sable and Nido’s face slightly altered. She must have been a Rerren. “Who is she?” Nido asked.

“Hmm…” Nyiarenel-Dorian put a finger on his cheek, as if thinking. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a task, and for every task you complete, I’ll let you know a little more, until you know everything.”

“No one knows everything except God.”

“Me and God are best friends, don’t you know?” the Mirror laughed.

“I seriously doubt that,” Nido snarled.

“Doubt what you will.” The reflection shrugged. “Very well. Just keep my offer in mind.”

Nido pivoted and stalked away, and the whole day as he prepared for his trip, he tried not to think about the confrontation. Unfortunately, he ended up doing exactly as the Mirror asked; its offer was always on his mind.




Several hours later, Sable was feeling well enough to climb steps, which meant she was feeling well enough to see the Mirror.

She froze when she saw the locks on the floor.

“Nido,” she said, and suddenly she felt like she was trespassing, rather than he had.

“I told you,” Sabina pouted from within the Mirror. “He’s a danger to us. He tried to smash me.”

“Good for him!” Sable exclaimed. “You know what? I’m not talking to you today!”

“You’ll be back tomorrow,” the Mirror called after her as she stalked down the steps, angrier than she thought possible. She hadn’t felt this rage since Freyja had tried to kill her.

Unfortunately, she knew the Mirror was right. She would be back tomorrow. Today, though, she’d had a small victory.

He’s a danger to us, the Mirror had said.

Not to us, Sable realized. To you. She needed that Mirror, though, and not just for the reasons it must have given Nido. I wonder if Nido knows… she thought as she threw open the double doors to the kitchens and shouted for someone to make her a hot fudge sundae. …If he knows about how Mother and Father… and how I…

Such thoughts were painful, so she pushed them away. “I said,” she snapped, “someone make me a hot fudge sundae! I’ve slept all of four hours all day and I’m incredibly cranky!”

Her servants, she decided, should all get raises for putting up with her moods.

“And where’s Nido?” she demanded as they scrambled to get that sundae ready for her.

“Gone, Majesty,” bowed a servant. He seemed new; she couldn’t recall his face. He was actually quite good-looking, but Sabe didn’t take much time judging the attractiveness of her staff- there was really no point. “He said he went down to Arctic City, and then a quick jaunt to the human country to the south. Roulinn, I believe.”

“Of course Roulinn, you imbecile! There aren’t any other human countries on this stupid continent!” Sable retorted. “You know what Roulinn was? A colony from their motherland hundreds of miles away.” She snorted. “It used to be our land, but what do I care? I wasn’t even born, and it’s not like Mother or Father cared about it.”

“It’s good land,” the servant dare to say.

“Good land for fools like yourself,” Sable replied. “If it was such great land, why didn’t we put up a fight for it, huh?”
“Did you ever consider the humans might have won such a fight?” the servant said.

This was going too far. “You,” said Sable, “can scrub the kitchen floor today with my toothbrush. No, make that your toothbrush. I’d rather not get mine dirty. We are Frost Breathers! We do not lose to humans!”

She turned and ignored the servant’s attempts at an apology, the maid who brought her the sundae, and the second maid who said to the servant, “Don’t mind her. She’s always like that when she doesn’t get much sleep.”

“I can hear you,” Sable reminded them.

“Yeah, let it go, Kitty,” the new servant said. “My apologies, Majesty. I didn’t mean to be impudent.”

“Whatever,” she sniffed, grabbing the sundae and starting to walk away. She paused just outside the doors. “Actually, whatever your name is…”

“Kerk, Majesty,” he answered.

“Kerk. Don’t bother cleaning the floors.”

“Really? Thank you, Majesty.”

Sable nodded. “Make Kitty do it instead.”

She smirked as Kitty fought down the urge to protest behind her, then whispered to a passing servant, “Give Kitty and Kerk some extra dessert today, will you?”

He nodded. “Anonymous as usual, Majesty?”

“As per usual.”

As she slipped into the council room for a meeting with her advisors, Sable stopped at a mirror hung in the hallway. “Who,” she said to the air, “dared hang a mirror in the hall? That is against policies!”

She looked at her reflection, not liking that it did look indeed just like Sabina in the Mirror. Her heart jumped, however, when she saw someone behind her. “Alienora?”

The woman slowly shook her head, eyes closed and frowning in disappointment. Sable rubbed her eyes, and the woman became her mother. “Mother?” she ventured. “…Anya?” She also shook her head.

Sable whirled around, shouting, “At least have the decency to talk to me, you-“

There was no one there.

Sable glanced in the mirror. No one but her.

“I didn’t get enough sleep,” she murmured. “That, or I’m schizophrenic.”




Ellie was quite bored while Damien was gone. She never quite knew hospitals could be so dull. She turned on the television and realized she knew absolutely nothing about the shows everyone was watching, and then settled for listening to the radio instead.

Damien returned about half an hour into a radio drama about a mermaid who ended up marrying a human and giving up her sea life to be a mother. In her opinion, the whole thing was rather lame and melodramatic, but it was better than listening to her own thoughts, which were also rather lame and melodramatic.

“I got you a doughnut,” Damien said, holding up a bag.

“Thanks,” she said.

“And I brought a visitor,” he added as Miss Highwater stepped into the room.

“Hi, Ellie,” she said. “How’ve you been since I last saw you? You finished that essay I assigned, yes?”

Ellie groaned. “Not exactly.”

“No worries, considering the cirumstances” Miss Highwater shrugged. “Damien, would you mind if I talked with Ellie alone for a second, in private?”

“Sure,” he said. “I don’t mind. I’ll go, um, use the restroom or something.”

“You need to shave,” Ellie pointed out.

Damien glanced in the mirror and ran a hand over his stubble. “Eh.” Then he shrugged and exited. As soon as he was gone, Miss Highwater closed the door and turned to face Ellie.

“So,” she said. “Freaky symptoms. What are they, exactly?”

“I made ice come out of my fingers without meaning to,” Ellie said. It felt amazing to actually tell someone. She hadn’t realized how afraid she’d been of someone finding out until she divulged her secret.

“I see…” Miss Highwater shook her head. “I was afraid this’d happen. I think… I think this is an inherent trait you were born with, dear, and that your body’s just now finally manifesting it. Ever heard of epigenetics?”

“Yeah, your genes get turned on and off or something,” Ellie said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, not quite, but close enough. Outside forces can affect which traits of your DNA are showing,” Miss Highwater replied. “And I think your epigenetics have just manifested your certain characteristics.”

“What characteristics?” Ellie asked, straightening. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the genetics from your mother,” Miss Highwater said. “Ellie, have you ever heard of Frost Breathers?”

A user of this : I was actually going to reveal that in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!