Shattered Ice and Fury

Chapter 5

Celeste woke to knocking on the door. The scattered sleeping children began to stir, and the eldest, who hadn't left her side, crawled over the small bodies covering the sheets and then slipped off the bed, her bare feet slapping against the marble floor.
With all the little girl's strength, she opened the heavy door and murmured a greeting to the figure beyond the threshold.
"May I come in?" Prince Vaktear's voice reached Celeste, rattling her mind. She was suddenly wide awake and sitting up straight.
Celeste nodded at the child, allowing the prince to enter. His hair was messier than it had been the previous night. The sides were cut close, yet his blond, almost white hair at the top sprung in every direction. He wore a white tunic and tailored dark blue pants. On his feet, he wore black slip-on shoes. He wasn't nearly as dressed up as he had been when they had first met. Although this time, matching the silver of his crown, he had a silver-handled sword in a leather sheath at his hip.
He watched the eldest girl crawl back into bed, too sleepy to care if she crawled on the other children. Some woke up with a knee to the rib or a palm to the face.
"They like you," he stated simply. Leaning against the door frame, he watched Celeste closely. His eyes lingered on the healing swirls covering the side of her face and neck. Celeste reached up her neck, and she was shocked to feel they had already healed. She had healed entirely in one night. How was that even remotely possible? If the prince noticed the sudden shock widening her eyes, he didn't note it out loud. "They would normally head to their own quarters at night."
Celeste nodded and swallowed the questions building up, questions only the mentioned archivist could answer, apparently.
"The feeling is mutual, and I don't mind. They're endearing," she smiled down at the girls.
Before falling asleep, Celeste had found herself stuck in silent awe by the tiny beings. They were all so surreal, especially with their pointed ears. She hoped that if she watched them long enough, her mind would finally catch up, and she'd freak out as she should have been, but no. Instead, she felt at ease. She was always good at coping with stress and change, but her ability to stay calm this time even surprised her.
There was a moment of silence before the prince pushed off the doorframe and sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace's heat.
"I thought that I could show you around the palace today." Celeste raised a questioning brow, and he continued. "We can begin searching for answers tomorrow."
"Should we be taking our time with this?" Celeste asked.
"Perhaps not, but your friends are exhausted. They don't want to get out of bed, so we'll take today to rest. There's no point in looking for answers if they're too exhausted to care. Or hungover."
Of course, they were still asleep; Celeste grinned.
"Well, I'm up now, so I'll get ready."
The children began to stir when Celeste said this. Their hair was messy, and the curled-up positions they had slept in had wrinkled their white dresses. They slowly dragged themselves out of bed, making their way to the different corners of the room to prepare Celeste for the day.
Celeste felt strange having anyone serve her, let alone children. Pointy-eared and snow-skinned children.
"You really don't have to do this. I can take care of myself," she stated reassuringly. All the children stopped and gaped at her.
The youngest, wide-eyed, adorable child spoke, her bottom lip quivering. "You don't need us?" She whimpered, her large eyes shining with fresh tears.
"That's not it; it's just that-" The tinny beings got back to work without hearing Celeste's reasoning, grabbing clothing and running water for what she assumed would be a bath.
The prince grinned before clearing his throat. "Don't worry about it. The children may look young and innocent, but a decade for us is a single year to them. So do the math; some are older than both of us combined. And they love to work. Especially for you, it seems." He motioned towards the eldest. "Lucille seems to have grown attached."
Lucille, the one that hadn't left her side, sat next to her under the covers and reached up to trace the marks on Celeste's face and neck. As she watched the girl examine the swirls, Celeste tried to comprehend that the tiny creature before her was an elder. Even the way they acted was innocent.
Celeste looked down at herself and realized she only wore a long white nightgown. Nothing more than thin straps covered her shoulders, and the front of the gown dipped a little lower in the front than she remembered. Her face warmed. Without looking at the prince, she asked, "Can you leave the room until I'm ready?"
Comprehending Celeste's state, Lucille turned her attention to her prince and glared viciously. He lingered for a moment, watching Celeste before he spoke.
"Of course." The moment he left the room, Celeste released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"What's wrong?" Lucille asked quietly once they were standing. Celeste let the nightgown slip down her body, and she covered her bare chest with her arms.
"Nothing." She mustered up a smile. It wasn't true; nothing was right. She wasn't in her own world and in her own room, but nothing felt wrong. She felt at ease, which made her stomach flip, but she wouldn't admit that to Lucille.
The children came to the edge of the bed and pulled Celeste to a bath. When she was clean, they dragged her to a set of large mirrors near the entrance of the walk-in closet. The fireplace warmed her bare skin as she slowly turned to look at her back. Instead of scabs, beautifully intricate fresh pink scars wrapped around the right side of her face, her neck, around her shoulder and down her shoulder blade to the middle of her spine. They reminded her of the prince and king's tattoos, but they were different—an elaborate labyrinth of lines and swirls.
The clothes were different from what she wore back home. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure she had seen anything modern around the room. What she thought was electricity seemed to be something else. Something... magical. She had access to running water, though, and she would be eternally grateful for that. She wasn't sure what she'd do without hot baths and showers. 
The clothes in her closet looked as though they were from another era, but the designs and techniques used to make the garments were complex. Her closet was stocked with items in a wide range of sizes for both men and women, covering all bases for any guest.
She chose a simple pair of dark brown pants, a dark blue shirt, and black knee-high boots, but the children strongly disagreed with Celeste's choice. Instead, they put her in the tub, washed her, and put her in a lavender dress. It was one of the most elegant things she'd ever worn. The neckline framed her collarbones. The sleeves hugged her arms down to her elbows. The waistline slid loosely down her body and touched the ground, leaving a short train behind her. Lucille tied a ribbon around her waist to emphasize her subtle curves. To top it all off, the children pinned her short brown hair back with tiny braids and twists of hair.
Again, Celeste wasn't willing to take off the bracelet around her wrist. It didn't match the rest of her outfit, but she didn't care. It was a simple piece she had impulsively purchased earlier that year. Its back string bore a small silver circle with no inscription. It had never been a sentimental piece, but now it represented her home. Her hope to return to the place from which she came, if not for herself, then for the friends she loved.
The aquarium on the room's back wall was now clear instead of dark as it had been that night. Rays of sunlight that hadn't been there before shone through the water and into the room. Celeste let out a breathy laugh of disbelief as she suddenly realized it wasn't an aquarium on the other side of the glass.
"Are we underwater?" Celeste asked Lucille, her voice quiet. The strange being simply nodded. Celeste breathed in deeply and was about to ask so many questions, but the children's tiny hands pushed her out of the room.
The prince was talking to a nearby guard about ensuring their other two guests were guarded if they left their rooms.
"Don't worry, Jack won't be much of a problem," she interrupted. "It's Alice you should be worried about." She smiled tightly up at the brown-eyed guard. He was young and blushed before bowing, then quickly running off. Celeste had never been bowed to before and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
"You and I are going to have a problem if you start ordering my guards around," he spoke softly despite his words, and when Celeste lifted her gaze to his, his ocean eyes met hers, and her chest fluttered.
He was smiling. It was a little softer than any other smiles she had seen on him. She was hesitant as she looked for the rage she had seen the night before when they left the throne room, but it was nowhere to be seen. So, she offered him a smile of her own.
"Sorry," she offered. The illuminated fish gathered, nipping at Celeste's dress and swimming around her head. "They seem to like me, don't they?"
"They do. It's strange." The prince began to walk down the hall, and Celeste followed close behind.
"How so?"
"They aren't supposed to swarm anyone. They're my father's creations. So, it makes sense for them to attach themselves to him but not to you."
Celeste didn't answer. She only followed him down the halls, contemplating what it could all mean.
The long corridors continued, and she wondered how big the palace was. Nothing decorated the tall walls other than banners and fish. They passed others as they walked, and some definitely weren't human. Some had gills and different colored skin. Some were small or had webs between their fingers. Some were of average height but had features that weren't human. Some had large black eyes or sharp teeth. One of them had coral skin. Another had ashen blue skin. She even saw a man with a glowing antenna sticking out of his bald head. Despite all their different features, they all had one thing in common: pointed ears.
Celeste couldn't help but stare at their impossible figures. They all bowed their heads to their prince, who smiled back every time.
"They aren't human," Celeste whispered, coming up behind him.
"Faeries," he answered.
"Pardon?"
He chuckled. "I guess you don't have faeries where you're from. Different species of faeries reside in every kingdom. They are treated equally amongst humans here, but I can't say the same for every kingdom," his tone turned icy.
Celeste didn't stop gawking as she noted everything he said and how he said it as she followed him down the halls.
They walked and walked until they reached a ballroom, which Prince Vaktear explained was where they held all the larger gatherings. It was a tall room, and chandeliers floated, shimmering quietly with illuminating magic near the ceiling. Below where they stood on a balcony, down the curving stairs flanking their sides, the shiny, untouched dance floor beckoned her. On the other far side of the ample space, another balcony and stairs mirrored theirs. The prince explained that the terraces lining the sides were usually used for musicians and mingling. Giant windows above their heads, lining the ceiling, allowed the room to fill with sunlight during the day and the glow of the sea creatures roaming the waters at night.
Celeste could only imagine how breathtaking it would be as music filled the room and couples spun in circles, the light warming the room and the hearts of all who attended. Ultimately, she caught herself smiling at the image.
The prince pulled Celeste away from the grandiose ballroom to see countless other rooms, all built with a purpose in mind.
The kitchen, next to the large dining room, was filled with busy faeries and humans running around, preparing for the next meal. The smell of fish, coffee, eggs, spices, and so much more she couldn't possibly list filled her nose. They used large fires to cook. Giant pans filled with colorful food hovering above the heat. A massive water ball floated above the centered island counter, and Celeste watched with her mouth agape as a woman fed a dirty plate to the spherical creation. It washed it and spat the dish back out, and the staff quickly snatched it out of the air.
"If only it had always been that easy," Celeste murmured.
The attached dining room was large and had one giant wall made of glass, just as most of the rooms did. The swarming fish lights were hardly necessary as the sun shone into the space, and the bioluminescent sea creatures hovered curiously beyond the glass.
"Does everyone eat here?" She asked.
"Everyone but the king. He has a private dining room." There was that ice in his words again. "We Antanians believe in working as a unit. We live together. We are all connected like the rivers and lakes of our home. Work together. Eat together. I've decided to include myself in this tradition by eating with my people." What the prince described sounded like a pleasant enough way to live.
"I see," she said, smiling at some young men watching them from one of the round tables. Some of the men waved, but others went back to their plates. Celeste half expected the furniture to be made of the same strange magic that the throne room table had been constructed of, but alas, the furniture was made of simple, unmovable marble.
Celeste continued to follow the prince in silence. Next, they visited offices in which people worked at desks in silence. Unlike the rest of the palace, these offices were small, and very few fish lights swam through the space. He explained that those at their desks kept track of the kingdom's finances, deaths, births, court members, and other court business he didn't want to bore her with.
Next, they passed by a large rectangular courtyard in which men fought with concerning seriousness, landing several blows to each other. Instead of the professional clothing worn by the guards on duty or the decorated dresses of the court women, these strangers wore tight, dark blue linen cloth. Celeste assumed it was made of linen to keep them cool as they moved.
She winced, and her chest tightened as one of them landed a hard kick to another's ribs, sending them back and gasping for breath. Celeste looked away before she saw any more.
"I don't think I've seen a single woman on guard duty," she observed out loud.
Prince Vaktear glanced at her as he spoke, as though checking her reaction. "There are few women who join the royal guard. Most join our Antanian forces on the mainland, which is also known as the Hydra. "
Ignoring her rising questions about the mainland, she asked another question. "Why?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but if I were to guess, it's so they may be closer to their families. To their children. Regardless, no one is stopping the women from joining the royal ranks. There's simply few who have."
Celeste nodded and left it at that as she continued to take in her surroundings.
Large columns lifted the edges of the ceiling that framed the underwater courtyard, but in its center, magic seemed to be the only thing keeping the ocean from drowning them all. From what Celeste could tell, there wasn't a glass window between the air they breathed and the heavy weight of the sea.
"Would you like to visit the library or the gallery next?" the prince asked suddenly, breaking their silence.
"The gallery, please." She didn't have to think long to decide.
"You enjoy art?" he inquired, glancing back at her, his hands clasped behind his back. Celeste nodded, trying to hide her excitement. "Then I think you'll enjoy our gallery very much. We have hundreds of modern and ancient paintings. As well as artifacts to tell the stories of our past."
"I'm looking forward to it," she tried to smother the giddy smile starting to spread across her face but failed miserably. She truly was looking forward to it. She wasn't an artist, but she loved examining others' work. "Although, I'm not sure placing such important pieces and artifacts underwater was a good idea," Celeste added, glancing sidelong at her handsome companion.
The prince grinned. "Perhaps it does seem strange, but I assure you, this is the safest place for them."
Celeste had a hard time grasping that fact, but she nodded.
The gallery entrance had a grand staircase leading them to beautifully carved doors. Unlike most of the palace's entries, these were made of hardwood. The carvings depicted a series of violent waves crushing a manmade vessel. 
"We decided to keep the original doors in place as an artifact." He explained. He motioned toward the entrance. "Go ahead."
And so, Celeste did. Although excited, she tried to apply self-restraint and slowly pushed the heavy doors open. 
She was initially hit with the sight of so much color. As she breathed in sharply in bewilderment, the smell of stale air and dust filled her nose. The ceiling reached so high that it reminded her of a European church. Art pieces of every size filled the walls with stories of past and current culture. She didn't waste any time. She strolled along the border, observing the alien scenes depicted to her.
Celeste stopped in front of a painting of a woman engulfed in light. At her feet, two women and two men knelt in reverent submission. They were all beautiful, their faces intense and otherworldly.
Below them, people danced around fires, swam in bodies of water, smelt flowers, and stood at the water's edge, the wind blowing wildly at their clothing and hair.
"It's the story of how our world came to be." The prince moved beside her, looking up at the painting in awe. "Elisphoros, the mother goddess, created four and gave them each responsibility and power of their own. These creations are our gods and goddesses." He glanced at Celeste before continuing, perhaps debating whether or not he should continue. "The four gods created the first of us, our ancestors."
"Is that where the magic comes from, then? From the gods?"
"In a way, yes. Those with abilities have some of the diety's blood or their blessing."
"And what about those without abilities? Aren't they vulnerable?"
The prince shrugged. "That brings us to the next painting." He led her to another extensive depiction on the other side of the room, although the art wasn't peaceful this time. It wasn't full of light and joy. No, this one was violent and cold. The hairs on Celeste's arms rose as a chill ran up her back.
Faeries and humans fought on a battlefield on one side of the canvas with their magic at their fingertips. They moved against their enemies with ruthless expressions painted on their faces. Their opponents on the other side of the canvas were covered in strange tattoos. Some of those tattoos glowed, and power erupted from their palms in flashes of colour. The power's effect could have been more apparent to her.
"Who are they?" Celeste asked quietly.
The crowned prince tilted his head with a slight frown on his face. "Witches," he said, equally as quiet with his response. A chill ran through her limbs at the way he spoke the word. "Witches and warlocks make up what's known as the Sigils Core."
"Are they... bad?"
"Not all of them." From the look on his face, it was clear to her that that was all she would get out of him.
"What about the fight? What are they fighting over?"
Prince Vaktear shifted his attention to the next painting, a gruesome depiction of two women. One lay lifeless, her face pale and permanently full of anguish. The other woman cried with the heart of the fallen in her hands.
"That is not my story to tell," he said solemnly. Celeste would have pushed for more information, but he was already walking away.
They strode in silence for some time, and she tried to burn the ethereal pictures into her mind, one by one.
Gods and goddesses were painted, giving life to humans and faeries alike, and other pieces portrayed wars between faeries and humans. She stared for a long while at one painting depicting a warrior yelling into the night sky astride what appeared to be a feline-like figure with enormous wings. Its mouth was bloodied, and its eyes were fierce as it stared down the viewer.
Celeste decided not to ask about that one. Flying mythical land animals was something she wasn't quite ready to grasp.
An entire wall of the never-ending gallery was dedicated to the royal lineage—all humans. Celeste stopped to examine a family portrait of the current royal family. With his large scar, the king sat on his throne, unsmiling. His queen at his side revealed the beginning of a hesitant smile. Her pale skin and soft pink lips were paired with captivating blue eyes. Yet, unlike the king's stormy, vibrant blue eyes, hers were peaceful, still and calm like the surface of a sleeping lake. Their layering grey tones reminded Celeste of the small clouds of fog that lingered on the surface of such a lake at dawn on a chilled summer morning. The prince stood beside his mother, and a beautiful blond-haired girl stood beside her father.
"You have a sister," Celeste stated.
"Elise. She's my twin. Unfortunately, you won't be able to meet her. She's away at the moment on some personal business." Celeste nodded and didn't press further when the prince didn't move away from the piece. He just stared at it with cold calculation. 
"And your mother... the queen. She's wonderful, and you have her eyes." Indeed. He had the same soft eyes as the queen, but he had his father's wild blue irises. She also had the very same off-white blond hair, but it curled down to her hips. She reminded Celeste of an ideal mother. She was so gloriously charming and robust in the way her chin tilted slightly upward. It wasn't done in a stuffy way, just as a brave queen might in the face of a challenge.
There was a moment before he answered. His tone was surprisingly apathetic as he stated, "She died giving birth to us."
Celeste's heart dropped to her stomach in horror and then turned with uncertainty as she glanced at the prince. Uncertain what to do next, she reached out and let her hand rest on his arm in consolation.
"I'm so sorry," she offered softly. Her own parents had died in a car accident when she was young, so she had been brought up by her grandfather and had dealt with survivor's guilt in the past. She had a safe space to deal with the aftermath of losing her parents to something she had nothing to do with. The prince's loss and grief journey would have been utterly different from her own.
The prince shook his head and walked out of Celeste's grasp.
"Don't apologize. It's no one's fault." He had clearly forced that last part out, but she didn't push.
Before Celeste could change the subject to something lighter for both their sakes, they walked around the next corner, and Celeste's blood ran cold.
A bone-deep shiver rattled through her, and she watched the prince approach the massive depiction of what Celeste could only describe as pure darkness incarnate. It was the only work in the short hall, as though the people who hung up the painting didn't want its corruption to creep into the other pieces. So, they cast the work away from the rest. Down its own hall, away from the light. Her skin, where the fresh scars covered her face, neck, shoulder, and back, seemed to cool in response.
"Who... what is that?" Celeste asked, part of her immediately recoiling at the prospect of knowing the answer.
She didn't avert her eyes from the deep, lightless stare of the dark being before her. She wondered if it would pounce on her if she took her eyes off it. Although a dark cloud concealed much of its emaciated, dying body, dark, congealing blood covered the lengthy claws at the end of its bony fingers. Its black fangs stuck out of its thin-crusted lips, and midnight hollowed-out eyes burned into her gaze. The darkness around it seemed to draw Celeste in like a twisted siren's song.
The prince answered calmly. "Evil."
They spent the rest of the day walking the halls, exchanging small talk when he wasn't explaining what a room was for or how big the palace was. Which, for the record, was more extensive than any building she'd ever been in.
With the ancient sleeping children scattered around her space, she couldn't help but recall the monster the crowned prince had identified as evil. She hadn't completely regained her warmth since standing before the thing. It had sucked out all the heat from her core. All the light from the room. She curled up into a ball and pulled the covers over her head.
That night, she dreamt of wars, desperate inked witches, kings and queens, gods and goddesses, and a world engulfed in darkness.