The Magic Kingdom Altena…
A cold, desolate fortress of mystery stationed in the northernmost corner of the world…
It was kept temperate by the queen's magic, permitting wildlife and foliage to flourish as if it were a lush jungle…
As the Mana started to disappear, the cold began to creep in, coating the outer walls with a thick, freezing layer of ice and snow…
In the middle of it all was a frustrated teenage girl, greedy for attention…
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"To properly form a fireball, you must first concentrate on your own fi-are you listening to me, Angela?"
Jose glanced up from his book, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the young lady beside him. Adjusting his spectacles, he gave a tired sigh as he received no answer. "Angela, darling, please pay attention."
"Hm?" came the puzzled reply. Angela twisted a lock of flowing purple hair around her finger, oblivious to all around her. "More magic talk?"
The old man placed the book on a half-filled shelf. "Angela, your mother is not going to be happy with either of us the way you're progressing. She will think I have not taught you, and you have not urged me to teach you."
"Well, you know what? Screw mother. I don't care what she thinks," Angela retorted, pulling up her form fitting crimson clothing that was like a strapless, one-piece bathing suit. Her outfit was complete with indigo gloves, diadem, and "boots" that came halfway up her shin, all made out of a satiny cloth.
Jose wagged a warning finger at her. "Now now, that is no way to speak of your mother. You should really be learning right now…"
Straightening up, the upstart teenager glared at her instructor. "Learn what? How to make a fool out of myself while casting a wimpy snowflake or cinder? How to become like everyone else in this Mana forsaken kingdom? How to be like my mother? No. Don't think so."
"Your mother is a great magician. Why would you not want to use those powers? You can use them. Trust me." Jose smiled, his eyes disappearing amidst his wrinkly face.
Angela sprang aside, holding out her hand and clamping her eyes shut. She wondered if she was standing right, and peeked briefly to see if she would embarrass herself with her stance.
"No, Angela, no," Jose said, shaking his head, "magic is not all form. You're concentrating too much on how you look. Magic has to come from the heart-"
A menacing glare from the furious Princess froze Jose in mid-sentence. "You know what, Jose, I am so sick of your little preachings! If you and my mom are such great magicians, then magic some skills into me! Otherwise, I am out of here!" Grabbing her staff, Angela stormed out of the library, leaving a bewildered Jose in her wake.
"Oh dear…"
Ducking her head under the stone arch, Angela ran into the fresh air. She drew a sharp breath as goose bumps rippled over her body. "Can't that furnace work properly? It's starting to get chilly here."
Walking along the parapet, she gazed out over the castle walls into the wilderness. Specks of green and gray danced about, the sun glinting off of their tridents. "Dumb animals," Angela muttered, "don't know why Koren doesn't just wipe 'em out for good."
"Hey Angela!"
The voice shook her from her musings as she leaned over the opposite wall. "Hey Victor, the name's 'Princess!'" she called, waving her hand.
"Whatever, Princess. Did you skip class again?" The blonde-haired man cast an accusing glance at her from the courtyard.
A blush spread across Angela's cheeks as she became surprised at her inability to respond. Must he always ask her that?
Victor shook his head knowingly. "I know you all too well, Princess. I'm the one that has to listen to Jose complain after you have skipped class."
"Ah, the old man complains to my friend? He's trickier than I thought." Grinning impudently, she tossed back her amethyst tresses.
The young man rolled his eyes at Angela. "Anyway, your mother wants to see you once their meeting adjourns, okay?"
"Mother wants to see me?" she spat, unable to hide the distaste in her voice. "That must be the first time in what, my whole life?"
"How long must you bear that grudge against your mother? She has a kingdom to run, you know that. It takes a lot out of her. I have to go though - I'll be in my room if you need me." He waved good-bye before promptly turning and disappearing into the castle.
Running a kingdom kept a mother from loving her child? That was the excuse as to why she was truly alone in the world? "That's what they all say, Victor. That's what they all say."
Angela hung around outside the door, wondering when the official would let her in. "Are they done yet?"
"No, they're not! You asked two seconds ago! Are you going to ask again?" The infuriated officer reached out to whack the young lady, but she skittered away at the last second.
"No need to get violent, miss!" Angela chuckled, holding up a hand.
Curling her lip up in a snarl, the official raised her staff and started to chant. "I'll show you violent, Prin-"
The door cracked open and a magician of high rank popped his head out. "The meeting's done, lady!" He then met the blazing green eyes of Angela's stare. "Oh, Princess, I didn't see you! Come right on in!"
Smirking at the officer, Angela followed the man inside.
"What was this meeting for?" she asked curiously as they skirted the round table.
Raising an eyebrow at his Princess, he replied, "About the Mana Stone. Your mother is planning something a bit dangerous. Koren's in on it, too."
A guttural sound bubbled up within Angela's throat as she heard that name. "Of course Koren's in on it. My mother pays more attention to him in a minute than she's paid to me my whole life."
"Shhh, Princess, you never know who might hear you."
They crossed a cobbled hall, the dimness warded away by torches kept alit by mage energy. A purple-clad guard paced in front of a set of double doors, delicately carved to give off a regal air.
"Good day, Princess," the sentry greeted, bowing respectively. "You wish to see the Queen of Reason?"
"Yes, please," Angela responded, putting on her practiced air of politeness.
"Right this way then." The guard pushed open the doors and gestured for her to continue.
Angela walked into the throne room, squinting her eyes against the brilliant light. The afternoon sun shone through the stained glass windows, bathing the area in a variety of striking colors. Two rows of mages stood in the middle of the room, their heads lowered. Angela glanced up as she saw her mother rise from the golden throne, malevolence painted on her features.
"Angela, come here," she barked, her voice harsh as ever.
Refusing the urge to bite her mother's head off, the young lady strode forward, receiving wary looks from the magicians on either side. Approaching the steps, Angela nodded her head in mere acknowledgment of her mother, no more, no less.
"Yes?" Angela questioned, her face full of innocence.
"You are in the Queen's presence. Address her as you would be addressed," scowled a mage from nearby.
Angela shot a glare in the red-robed man's direction. "You did not address me as I should be addressed, Koren."
"Why you little upsta-"
"Enough!" the Queen cried, slamming a fist upon the throne's armrest. "Both of you be quiet or you shall be put outside in the snow."
Koren, the Wizard of the Red Lotus, fawned at this comment by the Queen, but did not pale like Angela. "Are we to tell her of our plans?"
"What plans?" Angela broke in, suspicious of what her mother was hiding.
"The ones that we have to obtain the Sword of Mana. We can no longer live in a frozen climate like this; the Mana is disappearing, the winter is closing in on us. That is why the only action we can take is to open the gate to the Holyland and posses the sword." Queen Valda sat back down, maintaining the poise of a royal figurehead.
"And how do you propose getting the gate open?" Angela inquired, hands akimbo in a demanding stance.
"By capturing the eight Mana Stones and releasing their spirits. We're going to carry out the invasion of Forcena, first. But there is one, tiny matter that we must address, though," Koren stated, a smug grin stretching across his narrow face.
"And what would that matter be?"
"We need to release the power of the Mana Stone of Ice. To do so, a powerful spell must be used: the Sealed Ancient Magic, that is normally forbidden." The Crimson Mage cocked his head at the Queen for her to pick up where he left off.
"This spell is dangerous, as it will take the caster's life," Valda said matter-of-factly.
"That's dreadful!" Angela cried, surprised that her mother would go this far to acquire power.
"Oh, quite dreadful," Koren sympathized sarcastically. "But it must be done, you see."
"Who will be casting it?"
"Why, you will, my daughter," the Queen answered simply.
"What?!" Angela looked at her mother aghast, falling back a few steps. "You would never do that to your own daughter!"
"Frankly, I would do it to you. You have been worthless your whole life, an incredible shame to the Altena royal bloodline. There's not an ounce of magic in your body that you can use. If you had truly concentrated, you could have become like me, a perfect example of a mage. But you are not a magician and you will never become one. And to avoid shaming the whole bloodline, you will go down as a user of great magics, the one who made the glory of Altena possible." The Queen of Reason stood up, her sky blue dress swishing with the hiss of death. "Your fate has been decided."
Rage boiled in her veins as she mulled over this briefly. Her mother had always been determined to kill her, and now she had a decent excuse. But Angela would not let this happen. "No it hasn't, Queen of Reason!" the Princess mocked with sneering bitterness. "I won't go down as your little play toy; I won't be your puppet in turning Altena into a hellhole. It's my life and I will live it as I see fit, and not throw it away for you!" Angela shrieked, her voice echoing in the vaulted hall.
"Detain her!" Koren shouted, throwing his arms into the air. "No one talks to the Queen in that manner."
Violet-garbed officials filed in from the double doors, advancing toward her on Koren's orders. Their faces were emotionless, as if the Crimson Mage had captured their souls and possessed them. Then again, Angela would not even doubt that. She knew what he was capable of.
"Stay away!" she sobbed as they surrounded her, collapsing to the floor in a pitiful heap. Wisps of blue and white began to swarm around her like fireflies, warning the guards away with painful stings. A brilliant white light illuminated the room, temporarily blinding everyone, including Angela. Screams of surprise rang throughout the hall as the light subsided, and when it was over, a dark mark was left upon the velvet rug where Angela had fallen.
Koren and Valda looked upon the scene with wide eyes. The Crimson Mage was especially flabbergasted as he gave a single understatement. "She's gone…"
Angela woke up to a blast of cold air, shivers flowing through her body. The ground beneath her was simultaneously moist and freezing to the touch. Shifting her head uncomfortably, she noticed she was laying a sheet of ice, her skin in the process of becoming frozen to it.
"Ah shit," she mumbled through chattering teeth. Already her skin was becoming a pale shade of blue, her veins like purple spider webs beneath the surface. Angela struggled to get up, peeling her body from the ice painfully, no matter how much she tried to prevent it. She rubbed her gloved hands together vigorously, the friction warming her for the slightest second.
Leaning her weight onto her hands, she started to get up, moving inch by agonizing inch. Shards of ice clung to her legs as she tore them from the ground, and when the red-hot flashes subsided, she was free.
"Oh goddess," the teenager whispered, her breath coming out in opaque puffs.
She gazed about her surroundings, the snow sparkling like wildfire in the dying light. The sun was a half orb at the horizon, tinting the sky with shades of orange and red that faded into the comfort of the night. The first stars were coming out, and a frosty crescent moon hung high above in the still air.
Behind her was the kingdom of Altena, its turrets jutting up menacingly into the atmosphere. What had happened was coming back to her now. Her mother had wanted to kill her! How dare she! All of those days spent alone without the warm embrace of her mother had finally boiled down to the fact her mother wanted her dead. But she was not, for a white light had surrounded her, and everything went black. And now she was stranded outside in the freezing wilderness, with only her oaken staff to keep her company.
"Elrand ought to be near. I can make it there before nightfall," she spoke aloud to herself, adding a single word as an afterthought, "hopefully."
Trudging slowly through the shimmering drifts, she took the only path that she could see. It wound through a narrow canyon, and Angela trekked right down the middle, staying in the sunlight to gain every ounce of warmth she could. What she was wearing was not exactly the best snow wear around.
A crackle of foot steps sounded, causing Angela's brow to furrow in worry and fear. "Who's there?" she called out, trying to sound the commanding part of the princess she was.
Snickers met her ears as a trio of round, viridian bodies tumbled into view. They were not very tall and stood little chance of hitting the three foot mark. At first they seemed fish-like, for they had a dorsal fin running down their back, and their appendages were membranous; but were still feet and hands, as they held silver tridents. Puffy yellow lips adorned their chubby faces, set below twinkling black eyes that stared at her hungrily.
"What do you want?" Angela growled, one hand on her hip, the other clutching her staff.
Animalistic sounds escaped their mouths, and it was then Angela realized what they were: Sahagins!
She had learned about them in a boring history class one day, when they reviewed various monsters that had once prowled the tundras. Now there were three prime specimens standing before her, and she was nearly stiff with terror.
"Get away!" she warned, holding her staff out in front of her.
The largest Sahagin emitted a chuckling sound, its throat swelling like a frog's. A trident was pointed at her, and its partners began to attack.
Angela faltered at first, her reflexes slowed by the immense cold. The trident nearly caught her in the thigh, but she managed to twist back in time. Bringing her staff up, she cracked it down swiftly upon the nearest Sahagin head, knocking it backwards. The other caught her off guard, ripping a gash in the back of her right leg.
"You little bastard!" the young lady hissed, smacking at its spherical body with her staff.
The blow was blocked, sending tingling waves through her hands. A swift kick to what would pass as its torso solved the problem, sending it sprawling backwards into the first one.
"You ain't so tough, are you now?" Angela grinned at the remaining one.
A look of surprise passed its fishy features as it spun around and waddled off down the canyon path.
"That's what you get for messing with me!" she shouted after it triumphantly.
Taking a deep breath, she saw that the sun was sinking quickly below the skyline, and true coldness would set in. Gathering all of her strength, she began a slow jog, allowing her to move fast and keep warm at the same time.
The narrow, rocky walls began to spread out into a rolling plain, mountainous crags on either side. Trees with spiraling trunks towered into the sky, their boughs heavily laden with snow and tiny, glittering sparkles that illuminated the surrounding area with a multi-colored sheen. Right in the middle of the clearing was a group of green bodies, huddled together as if they were talking. A duo of seahorse-like creatures slithered about, keeping watch for the Sahagins.
"Ah shit," Angela cussed as one of them looked straight at her.
She didn't give it time to trumpet a warning, though. Raising her staff, she sent it spiraling towards the beast, striking it right in the chest. It toppled into the snow, unconscious.
A bugle-like cry broke the silence, and Angela saw the Sahagin group glance up as a whole and see her. She darted for the guard that she had struck down and grabbed her staff, backing up against a tree for protection.
"Get away!" she snarled, drawing a defending arc in the air with her staff.
A couple of brave Sahagins danced their way towards her and were quickly whacked between their beady eyes. One got in at her right side and deepened the gash that was there, causing her leg to buckle beneath her.
The Sahagins pounced upon her like a pack of ravenous wolves, gouging her body with their fearsome tridents.
"Get off of her!" a voice shouted from nearby, and the majority of the Sahagins scattered, with a handful backing up a few feet.
The remaining Sahagins jumped her again as foot steps vibrated through the ground, and the last thing Angela saw was a duo of men fighting them off. Darkness closed in around her like a comforting blanket as she slipped into unconsciousness.
"Mmmm," Angela hummed as she rolled over, enjoying the warmth of the quilt on top of her.
A quilt?
The young lady cracked her eyes open a bit, finding herself in an unfamiliar environment.
Warmth permeated the whole room, thanks to the blazing hearth in the center. Off to one side was a partition separating the beds from the work area and privy, adorned with a book case that was home to several thick, dusty volumes. The sounds of a little kid playing with her toys met her ears, and it was greatly welcomed in comparison to the usual crashing of ice and crackling of fire she was greeted with at Altena.
"Altena…" she breathed, shifting onto her back to gaze up at the ceiling.
"Whuzzat?" a small voice piped up.
Blinking quizzically, Angela turned her head to see a tiny, fiery-haired girl peeking over the edge of the bed.
"Hello!" she giggled, patting Angela on the head. The child then turned and called out, "Mommy, she's awake, she's awake!"
A medium sized woman scurried into the room, picking up her child. "Now now, Chichi, I told you to let her rest. This isn't the time to wake up people!"
"Sowwy mommy," the kid mumbled as she was put back down.
Angela sat up in her bed, a wide yawn pasted across her face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "No, that's okay. Where am I?"
"Why, you're in the Snow City Elrand," the mother replied, grabbing a hold of her daughter before she could swipe Angela's quilt.
"Really? What the heck happened to me?" Angela asked as she smoothed down her hair.
"My husband and his friend were out in the Sub-Zero Snowfield looking for some decent firewood, and they saw you beset by the Sahagins, and saved you. The town cleric managed to heal most of your wounds, except for a gash on the back of your right leg; just a scar that's left. You're welcome to have breakfast," she invited, a warm smile on her face.
"Alright." Stretching, Angela tumbled out of bed, her tight suit in need of an adjustment. After doing so, she followed the woman and her child downstairs and took a seat at the glazed wooden table in the dining area. Across the room was the kitchen, next to a cheery fire that provided the heating for the downstairs area.
An old lady was sitting at the table, digging into an immense stack of pancakes with maple syrup. "Mmf, 's'good!" she managed to say through bites of the delicious food.
"That's Granma," Chichi said, giving a napkin to Angela. "She's aaalways hungry!"
"I see," Angela replied, taking the napkin and attempting not to giggle at the ridiculous ancient woman.
"You like your eggs scrambled or sunny side up? Bacon or sausage?" the mother called from the stove.
Angela brightened up at this, her stomach gurgling at the thought of being filled with food. "Sunny side up, and bacon, lots of it!" She licked her dry lips in anticipation of a home-cooked meal.
A few minutes later, breakfast was served. Angela dug into it with immense gusto, wolfing down a half dozen pieces of bacon, two eggs, and a whole, buttered muffin. Chichi watched the teenager with wide eyes, surprised that one person could be as hungry as her grandmother.
"Wow, mommy, she's just like Granma!" the little girl tittered.
"Be polite!" the mother snapped after swallowing a piece of sausage.
"Whuz your name?" Chichi persisted, ignoring her mother.
"My name?" Angela sputtered as she started in on her second muffin. "Anna, if ye please."
"Mommy, can I play wif Anna? I finished all my brekkist!" Chichi grinned as she showed her mother her clean plate.
"Not now, dear, she's still eating. I'll play with you, though." Wiping her lips daintily on a napkin, the mother got up and took Chichi over to the play corner, where blocks and toys were piled upon a woven rug.
Polishing her plate of crumbs, Angela got up from her seat and went over to the mother. "Do you mind if I go wander around the city?"
"Not at all, Anna. You're welcome back here for lunch and dinner!"
"Thank you," Angela stammered before exiting the homely cottage.
"Back out into the cold," the Princess muttered under her breath. Rubbing her arms to keep the blood in them, Angela headed for the nearest building: the Inn.
A pale green sign hung above the door, contrasting nicely with the dark pink and red brick. Dripping icicles and snow clung to the tiled roof, decorating it like icing would gild a cake.
Sliding inside, she immediately strode towards the fire, warming herself there.
"Well, welcome miss!" a voice greeted from behind her.
"Eh?" Angela turned around to meet the innkeeper, a humble smile upon his homely features.
"Do you require a room? Some food? Gossip and conversation?" he offered with a sweep of his old, gnarled hand.
"I'll take the last one, thank you," she answered, following him over to a group of tables by a bar.
"Ye've come to the right place then! Sit down, drink, and be merry!" A toothy grin filled his face as he went back to service at the counter.
Taking a seat, Angela joined a bunch of hearty men and women that were having a good morning. They welcomed her into the sociable group with open arms, and that was where Angela spent the majority of her day.
The sun peeked through the windows, calling Angela's name. It was beginning to set again, but Angela could hardly move, nor did she want to. She had just had a lovely meat pie for dinner, followed by a mixed fruit cobbler for dessert. A smile hovered about her face as she gazed out the window at the dying sun.
"Ye wish t'know 'bout yore future, miss?" rattled someone from nearby.
"My future?" Angela questioned, raising an eyebrow. Turning her head, she came face to face with a pale man, as old as the dirt was. His skin sagged down on his face, hiding his beady black eyes from view. An elaborate cloak covered his body, complete with a hood over his head and a ruby-beset clasp.
"Yiss, yiss, yore future!" he howled, taking one of her hands in his weathered ones. "Ye seem like ye want t'know 'bout it."
"I guess I do," Angela replied slowly, still horrified by the man's strange appearance.
"A person's life is ninety-nine percent fate, an' th'other is yore one percent hope guidin' ye. Sometimes, people are in such despair that they lose that bit o' hope. Have ye lost yore's yet?"
"I don't think so." She wished to pull her hand from his grasp, but his words interested her greatly.
"Then ye are not like th'poor Princess I have heard 'bout then, eh?"
Angela's heart began to pound madly in her chest as she heard this. "What about the Princess?" she queried, curious to know what the people already knew.
"Queen went mad, wants t'kill her! Bounty up for her head, dead or alive. My prayers go t'that girl. I've always hated Verta, haven't ye?"
"I haven't really paid attention," the young lady choked out, trying to conceal her surprise.
"Ye remind me o' th'Princess herself," the fortune teller remarked, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Really? Mother always told me I looked like her," Angela parried, reacting before she would give herself away.
"Well, ye do look like her. Bit more rough an' tough, though. Th'Princess never got her hands dirtied, always stayed away from th'messy jobs an' hard life."
"Aye, I know what you mean," Angela joked, mentally forcing her beating heart to sit still. She couldn't give her identity way to anyone, not even this mysterious man.
"Is there something wrong, miss?" he asked, concerned for her.
"No, no, nothing's wrong," she responded, regaining her composure.
"If there is something wrong, ye should go t'th'Temple o' Light in th'Holy City, Wendel. When ye are lost in th'dark an' ye need a light, that is where ye go!" the fortune teller cried, emphasizing every single word.
"Huh, that's what he told me too. And you want to know what I wanted to ask him? Whether my baby was going to be a boy or girl! And he said go to Wendel! Rubbish, if you ask me," a man said from nearby as he drained the rest of his drink.
"Pay no attention to him, he's an impatient one! But ye look like a trip t'th'Temple o' Light could do ye some good. Go there! Ye won't regret it."
"But how do I get there?" Angela asked, wringing her hands.
"I believe there's a ship leavin' soon for Jad. That's jist north o' Wendel, a hop, skip, an' a jump away! Last ship outta here too, th'icebergs are gonna close th'harbor. Go now, if ye want to! Ye won't miss this dreary, cold place. Trust me." The tired man let go of her hand with a sigh, leaning back against his chair.
"Okay then…" Angela trailed off as she got up sluggishly and edged away from the tables. Once at the door, she flung it open and fled into the crisp evening air.
"Wendel, Wendel," she pondered as she came to a stop, looking down at the snow covered ground as she played with strands of her purple hair. If she went there, she could ask the Priest of Light about her mother and why she treated her child in such a fashion. Surely he could tell her that! "The Holy City… the Priest of Light… I don't know what else is waiting for me there, but I can't stay here. Good riddance to this place!"
Kicking the ground in anger at all of her childhood and recent memories, she ran towards the northern end of the city where the harbor was. A ship resided at the dock, flying a navy pendant from its topmost mast.
"Hello there lil lady! Are ya bound for Jad?" a sailor asked of her as he lowered the gangplank for her.
"Yes," the Princess replied, scrambling up the flimsy board and onto the ship.
"Well then, hold onto yore hat, it's gonna be one long night gittin' out o' this harbor!"
With those words, the ship set sail, bound with its cargo and fleeing Princess for Jad. Angela leaned upon the railing, looking out at the murky waters studded with icebergs, fading into the blanket of the night sky with all of its stars sewn on. Somewhere, beneath those same stars, was the Temple of Light in the Holy City, where she would find the answer to her existence.