It's the first snowfall of the year. The first winter chill has come, freezing us to the bone and chilling our hearts. Not to mention, the sun sets insanely early. Our darkest hour has come…

Okay, enough fooling around. I have to give you guys a fair warning: there is a suicide attempt in this chapter. This really is one of the darkest chapters in the entire story, so if you find this triggering, seek caution. Read at your own risk.

CHAPTER 11: THE DEPTHS OF ICE

7 days until…

No one had ever been foolish enough to touch the Gate of Glacia. From the inside, the few who thought they could escape were shot down, killed by one snipe of a spell. Not one person had ever approached the Gate, for all knew of the enchantment; they would be frozen before their fingertips even brushed the ice. To the inhabitants of the wintry realm, escape was futile, and every person lived in desperation, trying to forage whatever he could and keep himself from getting in trouble.

But in one second, everything changed. Someone touched the Gate, and breached the realm's long-standing wall.

Through a gap in the Gate, a boulder of ice passed through, at the mercy of the towering atmosphere. It began to fall, gaining incredible speed as it plummeted towards the planet of Nunangat. The guards, standing on the glacier above, looked at the crystal in amazement, for none had ever seen such a thing. Who had ever heard of raining ice? And just one shard of it? No, this had never happened before. And how it had gotten past the Gate was beyond them.

The crystal fell past the clouds, past the glacier, and into a crevasse. It fell thousands of meters, hurtling towards a swift river underground. Eventually, it crashed into a floating iceberg upon the river. The girl inside was completely obliterated, her entrails splaying everywhere as the crystal shattered, destroying any trace of the life that had been lost.

The iceberg was crushed by the impact; its surface had flattened itself, planar enough to be sat upon. It continued forwards, sailing down the black, opaque lagoon.

And upon that ark, a new fairy was born.

Sharzad opened her eyes. She was inside a bubble, a yellow cocoon that warmed her to the core. Red, jagged streaks slivered down the sides, resembling the blood of life; in one swift motion, they shot forward, striking her in the chest. But unlike the jolt that had knocked her down, this one was energizing, electrifying her entire body and bringing her back to life.

She gingerly lifted a hand to her auburn hair, which was being lifted up by a magical breeze, and pulled it back in shock. It wasn't wild or bushy anymore – rather, it was soft. She couldn't recall it ever being this silky before; the only time it had ever come this close was when her mother had made her sit through a makeover, usually right before an important festival or public appearance. But while she'd been at Alfea, such commencements were scarce.

She looked down. Her chest and torso were covered in a soft lilac light, one that sent delicious tingles down her spine. Then her body transformed, from the bottom up. First, silver barefoot sandals appeared on her feet, then a floating silvery dress that spun itself like mist. A gleaming vest of armor appeared over her chest, adorned with red gemstones. At her throat, a soft golden choker wound itself around her neck, and a garnet pouch appeared at its base. A silver circlet gleamed around her head, revealing her as the princess she was.

She stared at herself in shock. My Enchantix! I… I got my Enchantix! She could hardly stop from dancing around in excitement. But how did this happen? She couldn't remember anything that had happened to her, or what had befallen her before.

Then she felt something beginning to sprout from her shoulder-blades and spine. Wings! As delicate as feathers, as resilient as steel, they began to grow, unfurling themselves in a web of lilac. Flecks of gold colored the insides, and at the very tips, garnet jewels appeared. They illuminated the cocoon, shining with the intensity of only those who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

The cocoon dissipated, its walls becoming more and more translucent. Sharzad felt the ground below her becoming more solid, and she no longer hovered in the air. The chill began to permeate through, and she shivered as she looked at what was outside.

She was in a cave of ice. Stalactites hung above her, threatening to fall at a moment's provocation. She was kneeling atop a raft of ice, the drafty air breezing past her exposed arms. It was dark, but she could make out that there was water beneath her. She gingerly dipped a finger into the river, and gasped at the icy cold.

I need to get out of here, she thought, her teeth chattering. She gazed beyond the floating iceberg, past the river, and caught sight of a place for her to rest. There was a dark anal of the cave, a narrow passageway that tucked itself into the wall. She vaulted off of the iceberg and, shivering, transformed back into her civilian form.

She was wearing a jacket and fleece underwear, but she was still cold. The temperature in this place – wherever it was – was utterly freezing, and her breath came out in foggy gasps. She tried to cast a warming-spell upon herself, but it was very weak. The energy she had gained through her Enchantix was being taken by the cold, and she knew if she didn't do something quickly, she would freeze to death.

Just as she was about to give up and collapse, she felt something touch her. She would've screamed, if not for the fact that the thing, whatever it was, was so warm. She turned around, and gasped at what it was.

It was a narwhal. The body of the animal was pure white, and its horn was a pure, shining shade of silver. I didn't see it before… Its big eyes stared at her, reflecting something that seemed like… indifference? Pain? It was then that she noticed that the animal was chained, a blue chain of ice tethering it somewhere deep into the river.

Confusion coursed through her, followed by anger. Why would someone do that? She just couldn't understand what anyone had to gain by tying the narwhal and refusing to let it go. That's not right. But she was too tired to think about it any further.

She laid down at the edge of the ice, letting the narwhal lean against her. She felt her eyes droop, and rested the back of her head on her arms. The touch of the animal warmed her, and she was asleep within minutes, giving her body the chance to recharge.

"You imbecile!" Darius screamed. "You're going to wish you were never born!"

Daewon dodged Darius's punches, running down the hall. But he was no match for the prince, the prince who had been training at Red Fountain for years. Within seconds, Darius had cornered him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him like a rag doll.

Daewon cried out as Darius shoved him onto the floor. He laid there, his entire vision going black. For a second he lay there, motionless, not able to comprehend what was going on. Then slowly, he picked himself up, and turned around. The prince stood behind him, his expression grim and deadly.

"I always knew you were no good," he snarled. "I knew you were a bully, a fool, an egotistical jerk. I knew it from the moment Aria told me. But what you did has transgressed far beyond the normal limits of wrongdoing. You should be branded as a criminal across all the realms!"

"Darius!" the redheaded girl – Maire, her name was – cried out. Her green eyes looked stricken as she stared at the crown prince. "Please, calm down!"

"I WILL NOT calm down!" Darius roared. "It is because of him that my sister is DEAD! If he hadn't have bullied Aria and made Sharzad go on this wild-pixie chase with him, NONE OF THIS would have ever happened!" He kicked a chair over, and it fell two inches short of Daewon's head.

Daewon couldn't respond; he could barely even hear Darius's yells. All he knew was that the crown prince was absolutely right; it was his fault that Sharzad had fallen into the Gate of Glacia. He could just picture her frozen face, cold and lifeless, never to be filled with joy or love again…

I didn't appreciate her enough when she was alive, he thought, tears forming at his (in his) eyes. I was horrible to her. Memories of their fight came crashing back to them, memories that seemed to have taken place eons ago – it was hard to believe it had only been yesterday. She was the kindest, most warm-hearted person I've ever met. And now that's gone.

Yesterday, coming back on the spacecraft had been nothing short of misery. Darius had been utterly grief-stricken, stuck in a torpor the entire way back. He did not look up from his hunched position on his chair, and no sound escaped his mouth except for gut-wrenching, horrified moans. Unable to cope with staying awake any longer, Daewon had taken a Sleeping Potion, at Arishtat's insistence; the rest of the voyage back, nightmares had plagued his sleep, each worse than the last.

"Speak!" he suddenly heard Darius's yell, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Why did you do it? WHY DID YOU RUIN ARIA?"

Daewon swallowed, turning to face the monster prince. He's far past the stage of denial now… He was raving, fury raging from his muscular fists to his huge, fiery eyes. Nervously, he backed up, feeling the first few tears starting to fall.

"She ruined me," he sobbed. From the corner of his eyes he saw Maire looking at him, her eyes widening in surprise. "Well, not me directly, but my friend – she ruined Galatea. She sent her threatening messages, sabotaged her, lied to her." The tears were falling freely now, and he made no move to stop them. "And then she murdered her in cold blood – my princess"...

"Don't you dare tell such lies," Darius snarled. "You are the culprit, and I know you are. Don't you dare assign the blame to the person you destroyed!"

I did destroy her, thought Daewon. Or… did I? I don't even know anymore… He closed his eyes, tears pouring down his cheeks.

He remembered that day back in MOA, a day he'd blocked out of his memory. The day everything changed… the day before she was gone…

It was coming back to him, like a speck of light in the dark. He couldn't avoid it, couldn't ignore it. It was still there, in the back of his memory. He could still remember…

"Darius, stop!" Maire pleaded, her voice sounding scared. "This isn't you. It wasn't Daewon who did it!"

"Of course you're taking his side!" Darius turned on her. "Not that it matters anymore." He glared at her. "As of now, we are not working together anymore."

"You mean" –

"We are not looking for Aria anymore," Darius cut her off. "It is that search which took my sister's life. I will not give it any thought anymore!"

"No," Maire said, her voice sounding weak. "You can't say that."

"Shut up." Darius looked to the ground, his voice filled with pain. "My heroics killed Sharzad. I will never be a hero again." He glared at Daewon. "And as for you, you're the opposite of a hero" –

"Enough!" a booming voice filled the air. Daewon looked up, and saw Queen Elaheh walk into the room. Her black dress swept the floor, and though she looked to be grieving just as much as the rest of them, her stance was no less composed. She narrowed her eyes as she saw Darius towering over Daewon.

"Back away," she commanded her son. "Now."

Darius backed off, but not before giving Daewon a murderous look that would have turned Tritannus to stone. Queen Elaheh continued to speak, her voice somber and calm.

"I cannot let you all hurt yourselves like this," she said. "We are already torn apart by Sharzad's death." She bowed her head, and Daewon was stunned by her restraint. Her own daughter has died. How is she so calm? "We cannot hurt each other. We must treat each other with compassion and build each other up through our grief."

"Mom, it's his fault that she's dead!" Darius yelled. "He took her on a stupid chase to go find Aria, and they worked with the Trix on this! He was the one stupid enough to" –

"Yes, Sir Bahadur has already briefed me," the queen interrupted. "And I have dismissed Sir Arishtat from his post. He will no longer serve as a guard for Fulgur, or in any realm."

Arishtat's gone? A sudden feeling of sadness, one that Daewon hadn't expected, came across him. Why'd you kick him out? he wanted to shout. He was an awesome guard! He remembered the man's cool composure, the way he'd been able to push back against the Trix without even raising his voice. And the way he'd looked after Sharzad with the utmost respect and diligence. I should've taken a leaf out of his book…

"You are focusing your energy on the wrong objective," the queen told her son plainly. "We have captured the Patchamen and sent them to the Interrealm Court for trial, but the Trix are still loose. I need you to declare a state of emergency for Fulgur so that we can protect our citizens."

Daewon swallowed. Yesterday, Arishtat and Bahadur had managed to bring all of the Patchamen into the ship, keeping them prisoner until they landed in Fulgur. But the Trix had managed to escape, speeding their spacecraft away before the guards could get ahold of them. With their grief so tangible, no one had the heart to chase after them and carry them off to Magix. They'd instead headed home, their bereavement plaguing them for the long five hours of their voyage.

"Not until Daewon leaves!" Darius snarled. "He made Sharzad go with him! He" –

"No one could have made Sharzad do anything," Queen Elaheh cut him off. "You know that as well as I do, Darius. She was headstrong, courageous, and always did what she thought was right"… Now Daewon saw a tear trickle down her cheek. "Daewon is just a child. So was Sharzad, for that matter. Neither of them was at fault. Arishtat was the adult, and he was the one in charge of them, but he failed to do his duty. For that, he has been punished."

"Well, if you're not going to make him leave, I will," Darius snapped, turning towards Daewon.

Queen Elaheh hesitated, and Daewon knew what she was thinking. Although she was the guardian-fairy of Fulgur, and was very important in the realm, she did not have royal blood; the ultimate power was with the ruling monarch, and his first child. But the king was still aboard his flight to Fulgur, and now that his son was of age, the regency didn't rest with his wife anymore – it was with Darius. That meant that if Darius wanted him hauled out, dumped unceremoniously out the palace gates, he had that right.

But Daewon wasn't going to wait for it to come to that. He knew just as well as everyone else that he no longer had any place there. Without Sharzad, all of this is useless… He gazed forlornly out through the window, almost imagining Sharzad flying back through the glass, to tell them that she was okay. But there was nothing. Nothing but his pain and broken thoughts.

"I'm leaving," he announced. "I – I'll take a spacecraft back to Melody. I'm not staying here." He saw a flicker of surprise in Queen Elaheh's expression, but that disappeared quickly. Daewon knew that, for all of her righteousness and insistent hospitality, she didn't want him around more than anyone else.

"Good call," Darius growled. "You have half an hour before I kick your sorry butt out of here."

Daewon thought he saw a flicker of pain in Maire's eyes, but then figured he'd imagined it. What has this got to do with her? Sighing, he picked himself off the ground and walked towards the doors, heading up to his room to collect the last of his stuff.

Aria was performing on stage, singing the lead part the opera Linphèana. As she'd opened her mouth to sing the Flower Aria, her voice suddenly croaked and she found she could not sing a word. Her eyes widened as she stared out, horrified.

The audience stared back at her for a second. Then, without warning, everyone started laughing. Screams and whistles could be heard from every corner of the room as they jeered, knocking her down.

"Fraud!" they began to chant, standing, with mouths wider than the gates of hell.

"Fraud!" yelled a girl with wavy brown hair and a skin-colored dress that blended into her flesh. Who is she… how do I know her?

"Fraud!" shouted Daewon, the largest face in the entire theater. His brown eyes were wide and gleeful, and he was laughing the hardest he possibly could.

"Fake singer!" she heard a voice. A fairy, none other than Galatea, was flying towards her, her eyes malicious and gleeful. With both hands, she picked Aria off of the stage, and then hurled her into the sky, and she fell to the mercy of the crowd below…

Aria screamed as she woke up, her heart pounding. She sat upright, her heart racing and the sheets all messed up. She stared around, her eyes wide and her poise scared.

I've beaten the hourglass, she realized. Although its amount had barely reduced since yesterday, she'd already lost everyone. Angéle had absolutely refused to talk to her, and now she had no one. Even that stupid girl had been a companion, someone to face every day with, every trouble.

Aria closed her eyes, remembering how she and Angéle had played their duet together. How innocent Angéle had been, how kind she was. She remembered how she'd helped her out of bed, taken her to sing with her. She couldn't lie – her kindness had been the one thing keeping her alive in this cold, desolate world.

But now she's gone. She'd ditched Aria, just because she was jealous. Jealous of how popular Aria was, even though all that popularity had always been fake.

Something struck her in her stomach. What is this feeling? A deep pain, one she'd never experienced before, filled her entire belly. It churned fiercely and relentlessly, never giving up.

Is this… guilt? She'd heard of the feeling. She'd always scoffed at it – after all, what was there for her to feel guilty about? She was perfect. Everyone loved her, and she sang so well. Even if she manipulated others into following her, she was still a beautiful girl.

But somehow, it felt wrong. No longer did she want to manipulate others, to make them pay for her sins. And so she stared down at her bed, overcome by pain.

She no longer wanted to follow Isolde and partake in her plans for revenge. No matter how many people she ruled over, they would still not want her. She would still be the parentless girl, the girl without affection or love.

Angéle would never want her now. She was too ill to ever be wanted. And she was too unpopular. She was just… broken. No matter what, she would never be whole.

No one will ever want me. The realization did not hit her hard; rather, it was only a dull impact, a cruel awakening to the reality of life. I've never been wanted, have I? There… there's just too much wrong with this world. Not one person has ever recognized my greatness, or wanted to love me. This… this really has been it.

Aria shook her head. Her mind had been cloudy the days before, but now it was completely clear. I have to end this. I cannot continue on any longer.

She looked down at the manacles around her wrists and ankles, and was suddenly grateful for them. Unlike witches and wizards, a fairy's ability to fly was directly tied to her ability to use her magic. The manacles inhibited her magic; with them on, she couldn't even perform the simplest spell. Therefore, there was no chance that she would involuntarily be able to transform. No, she would plummet down, all the way to the bottom of the castle.

With tears in her eyes, but her face resolute, she got up and walked out of her room, the icy balcony awaiting her down the hall.

Franc walked down the yellowstone road. The villages had come and gone; it seemed as if they were nonexistent now. He was reaching the west boundary of the heavens, closer to the Prophetess's temple. He was on his way.

As he walked down the road, he saw a sign. VILLAGE OF DELPHINE, 1 KM, it read. Franc stopped dead in his tracks and stared at it in shock.

That's where our old house is! he thought. It's right there!

Something urged him on, even though in his mind, he knew it was a bad idea. It would set forth a berth of emotions, feelings that he didn't want to experience. But I have to. With a heavy heart, he set forward, into the village he'd never wanted to stay in to begin with.

He had to be careful; he had no desire to see the villagers or have them enquire about what had happened. Villagers were a nosy lot, and the residents of Delphine were no exception. But he needn't have worried. For starters, he'd always rudely shunned the neighbors every chance he'd had, and anyways, it was too early after the storm for them to be active. He walked down the road until he found his old house, gazing up at it in a mixture of dejà vu and sorrow.

The house was old and crumbling. A mere two-room flat, it was painted an old, sordid black, with the shingles peeling. He remembered how much Angéle had detested it, even though she'd been kind enough not to say so; she hated the color black. Most of all, the house had been a testament to his failure, his inability to keep his family together.

He walked up to the door, praying it would open. Slowly, he turned the handle.

It opened.

Franc walked inside, staring at the house. The first room was the same as he'd always known it to be; a tiny stovetop at the window and a sofa bed at the door. The second room was even tinier, the room Angéle had claimed for her own. He gazed up at the old house, taking in the edifice that used to be his home.

He'd never understood why they had to live in the castle. The High Priestess of Rêve was supposed to live in Nuages City, the central city of the heavens. But the king, with his voodoo "intuition" as everyone had called it, asked Trinity and her family to stay in the castle, in order to keep Angéle safe.

His daughter had been born powerful. Born with natural talent, Trinity had agreed to nurture it, and had worked with the girl in the security of the castle's walls, teaching her all the skills she'd ever needed to know. In Franc's opinion, however, it wasn't Angéle's "natural talent" or whatever bogus the king wanted them to believe – it was her work ethic that had made her so powerful. Her selflessness, her commitment to service, was what had empowered her to become the fairy she'd been. And she'd been so wonderful, the best thing that had ever happened to him.

But so young… She'd been too young to be captured, too young to disappear. It didn't matter how much talent and power she'd had. In his eyes, Angéle would always be the same baby he'd held that day, after the storm.

He headed into Angéle's room. The room was the same as he'd known it, too. The bed remained neat and untouched, a yellow bedspread that'd been sewed by Trinity herself. But something was missing.

What is it? Franc stared around. What could've possibly left this house? He stared wildly around.

Then it hit him. Angéle's harp! The harp that had belonged to Angéle's mother, and her mother before her. It had disappeared from the house, along with Angéle herself!

But where? Where could the harp have possibly gone? Why had it disappeared? Franc stared in disbelief, utterly confused.

She took it, he realized, wherever she went. There's only one explanation: she disappeared out of her own free will.

And then suddenly he was screaming. He threw himself against the chest of drawers, sobbing with the horrifying cry that only a bereaved man can make. His howls sounded foreign even to him, and he cried with the weight of a thousand moons.

"Why'd you leave me?" he cried, picking up a trinket and throwing it onto the ground. It shattered. "Why'd you leave me?" His breath was coming out in short gasps, and he was panting with adrenaline and fury and sobs.

"Why?"

Aria's head was low as she walked down the hall, an action quite unusual for her. She was well aware of the irony as she marched down, her teeth gritting. Where the heck is the balcony? She only knew it existed because she'd heard one of the other servants talking about it.

The place was completely devoid of people. She knew that all of the servants, except for Angéle, lived on the floor below her; she only ever saw them on the few occasions that they came up the steps to get something for their mistress. Other than that, she was virtually isolated from all contact with other people; there was no one to speak to her, to give her the kindness that she deserved. It's all going to be over soon… She gritted her teeth and moved on.

Ahead of her, she saw a shape. It was Angéle, her poise still as elegant and beautiful as ever. She looked at Aria, and a surprised glint appeared in her eyes.

"Get out of my way," Aria snapped, glaring at her. The girl didn't budge.

Frustrated, she raised her voice. "Get out!" She shoved her to the floor, and Angéle toppled over, not putting up a fight. Hovering over her, she yelled, "I am sick of people ruining my life!" The girl backed away, her eyes wide and body trembling quivering.

"What do you mean?" she gasped. "Wh – why did you push me?"

"Why did I push you?" she sneered. "You won't ever have to see me again. As soon as I find the goddamned balcony in this place, I'm going to throw myself off. You hear that? Maybe then I'll receive the love I deserve in the Overworld!"

Angéle eyes widened as she stalked down the hallway. For a second, Aria thought she was rid of her. Then she gasped in fury as the fairy tugged onto her shirt, and whirled around.

"You can't do this," Angéle choked out, her voice sounding pained. "Please, don't do it, Aria. That's never the solution." She stared at Aria beseechingly. "I don't want you to die."

"Shut up!" she snarled. "I'm doing you a favor! I'm doing the whole damn world a favor, actually! No one gives a pinch of fairy dust about me! It's because all of you fail to see who I am! And if you can't see me my greatness, well, you'll be sorry when I'm gone!" She broke into a run, practically flying down the corridor.

She reached a set of blue double doors. Banging them open, she let them hit the walls hard. Her eyes blinked as she looked out into the dark nighttime sky, and at the sweetly-curving banisters that framed the ice terrace. Not a single aurora could be seen. The frigid wind whipped her, as heartless and unrelenting as the life she had always lived.

This is it, she thought. This is where it ends. She looked down at herself, and realized body was actually shaking. Willing herself not to think, she stepped out onto the slippery ground, grabbing onto one of the banisters just before she could slip on the ice.

She began to climb up the banister, her heart beating wildly. Suddenly, she froze as she heard a drawling voice. "Going somewhere?"

The king of Rêve sat in his suite at the Magix Convention Center, sipping boisson du évellier. The drink was made out of racines de l'éveil, which were roots of the naissant plant. The roots would be boiled, then stewed, then pounded into a pulp, so that the final product was very pulpy. It could wake a man from the groggiest sleep and make him feel refreshed; the only problem was, the substance was highly addictive, which meant that he only took it when absolutely necessary.

Today was one of those times. The king had not been able to sleep the last few nights; the decisions the Sovereign Council had almost made were far too near a close call for his liking. He had been the only sovereign who could see sense in that entire room, and had stopped the Excidium from being summoned, in his final vote.

It was not that he particularly cared for Cacciatore. In his eyes, the woman was a criminal, and would get her punishment in the scheme of things, as all villains did. No, what mattered were his suspicions, his suspicions of where Aria had gone. And who was there with her.

Sixty-two years ago, the queen of Glacia had locked the realm, sealing it off from contact so that she would not face punishment for her crimes. And a year ago, his old friend's daughter had disappeared after she'd self-appointed herself on a mission to achieve a transformation that would help her find Glacia. How was it that the two were not correlated? There was no other explanation. His best courtiers had tried to find the girl, to no avail. He knew enough about the queen's magic in the sense that it was formidable. If she wanted to conceal the girl from prying eyes, she certainly could.

And then Cacciatore had disappeared. Despite the incredible amount of intelligence in the realms, with the search now extending all across the dimension, no one had been able to find her. Despite the fact that the Solarian police had made the entire city of Helios non-transportable, she'd still managed to escape – a feat impossible for everyone but the most powerful magical being. What was even more shocking was that no one had been able to find her in Solaria. Only Enchantix-level fairies had the ability to teleport, but they had several limitations: they could only transport to a place they'd already set foot on, provided the area was non-transportable. But most importantly, they could not teleport off of the planet they were currently on. This meant that Cacciatore's had been aided somehow, by a person who had the ability to transport herself between entire realms. And that person could only be Queen Isolde.

He was aware of the gaps in his theory. Nevertheless, he could not allow the Excidium to be launched. If it were activated, it would immediately detect Cacciatore's presence in Glacia, and fly there. Whether or not it could breach the Gates was questionable, but if it did, the girl's life would likely be in danger as well. And he could never let that happen. He was certain that, one day, this young woman would return back home.

My friend's daughter, he thought, closing his eyes. It had killed him to separate from Franc du Maurier, the man who'd once been a confidante and a friend. But his wife's death had killed him, and he'd taken his daughter out of the castle, stealing her away from his protection. He'd never forgotten the wounded look in the young girl's face as she was dragged by her father, the look of sorrow she'd cast him over her shoulder.

Such a beautiful young girl, he thought, so selfless and pure. Just like her mother, who did everything in her power to keep my kingdom alive. He finished the last drop of the drink, staring out the window. It was then that he caught sight of someone.

A tan-skinned man with black hair was kneeling on the ground, on the lawn of the Convention Center. It was still early, which meant that not so many people were out in the city yet. At first glance, it appeared that he was praying, but on second glance, it was apparent he was not. The man was sobbing profusely, his chest heaving in endless misery.

The king stared out the window. Who is this young man? Pity overtook him, as he knew what it was like to be filled with sadness, unable to let it all out. He called for his guard.

"Good Sir Gustav," he said, "please go out and see that man who is sobbing on the grass. I want you to offer him refuge within my chamber, and tend to his needs."

"Sure, Your Majesty," the knight said, bowing before he exited the room.

The king watched as Gustav reached the grass. He approached the man, saying something to him. Without looking up, the man on the ground shook his head, saying something in a hysterical tone.

I don't care what he says, the king thought. You are bringing him in. As if reading his thoughts, Gustav grabbed the man by the waist and carried him effortlessly into the building. There was a few moments' pause, and then a knock came on the door.

"Come in," the king answered.

The door swung open. Gustav entered in, now half-dragging the man alongside him and hoisting him onto a chair. The king nodded at him. "Thank you for your service, Sir Gustav. You may go now. I will call you if I need anything further."

The guard left. The king looked at the man; up close, he looked even more pitiful than before. His hair was a mess, and his face was smeared with dirt and tears. His clothes appeared ragged in a way that could not possibly have been accidental. The king wondered what the poor man had been doing to himself.

"I apologize for the way I had you brought here," he said. "But I saw that you were suffering in pain, and I wanted to speak to you. Why have you hurt yourself?"

"I d-d-deserve it," the man sobbed, his voice coming out as a stutter. "I-I did something h-horrible" –

"No one deserves what you were just putting yourself through," the king said firmly. "Tell me, what is your name?"

The man looked up. "Arishtat. It is one I carry with shame, for I am nothing but a failure and a wastrel." He hung his head.

"I see," the king said. He looked hard into the man's dull blue eyes, and could find nothing but guilt and grief reflected in them. "Well then, Arishtat, tell me what it is you have done that makes you a failure and a wastrel."

The man began to sob. "I – I was guard to Her Highness, Princess Sharzad of Fulgur. I made a – a horrible mistake. And now she is dead because of it."

"Go on," the king said, concealing his surprise. He had already heard the news about the princess, but couldn't believe that this dirty, bedraggled, piteous man had once been her guard. How did he get here? "What is the mistake you made?"

"Sh-she was misled by the Trix," he sobbed. "They m-m-made a deal with her and promised they'd-d-d help her find Cacciatore. I kn-new about it, but I did nothing to stop it – I let her fall into their trap! And it's all my fault!" He threw himself onto the ground.

"I sh-should be dead instead of her!" he cried out. "I let her and Daewon get hurt, at the expense of myself! I don't deserve a place in a single realm!" He pounded his fists on the floor.

"Navarre!" the king called. A servant boy burst into the room. "Find a Calming Draught for this young man. As quickly as possible." He gestured to Arishtat. The servant bowed and ran out of the room. The king turned towards him.

"Sit up," he said, a little sternly. "I am going to tell you something, Arishtat, and I trust that you will be brave enough to hear it." A slightly fearful look appeared in the man's eyes, but the king continued speaking. "Sometimes, we cannot do anything to save the ones we care about, no matter how much we love them."

"But sir," the man said, looking as if he couldn't breathe, "it was my duty"…

"Yes, it was your duty," the king agreed. "But you must learn to live beyond what you have done. You cannot spend the rest of your life pining for those who are no longer alive. All you can do is try to protect the living." Like how I made sure they didn't send the Excidium anywhere near Franc's daughter, he thought. "Listen to me, Arishtat." The former knight fully looked up at him. "I have made many mistakes in my life. It is because of me that my good friend is dead; she died in order to help my people. And this mistake has cost me the trust of my advisor, as well as the confidence of many of my subjects. Yet, I cannot continue to live in the past. I must look forward, to protect the interests of my kingdom. I can see that you are a true hero, and I trust that you will do everything you can to keep this world safe."

Arishtat looked up at him. "You are"…

"I am King Gabriel of Rêve," he answered.

Arishtat gasped and bowed down towards the man. "Your Majesty," he whispered, more tears coming in his eyes. "I do not deserve to be in the company of royalty, so soon after my Princess's death"…

"And yet, it is I who chooses to have you as company," Gabriel said. "There is no need to be so solemn, young man. You must learn to loosen up."

"Someone else has told me that before," he mumbled, still hunched over, his knees below his chest.

The door opened, and Navarre came back with the Calming Draught. "Thank you. Could you please give this man the Calming Draught, and give him a good bath, refreshment, and a place to sleep? He is in need of it." Especially the bath, he thought privately.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the boy said, bowing once before he left, pulling Arishtat along with him.

Gustav stuck his head into the room as the king sat down on his chair. "Good advice, my king," he said. "Maybe now, do you think it is time to move on from what happened to Franc's daughter?"

"That is different," Gabriel responded. "She is very much still alive." He closed his eyes briefly. "And I intend to see her back home."

Aria screamed, slipping on the banister of ice. She fell backwards, her head hitting against the surface with a thud. Stars whirled around her vision, and for a second, she couldn't breathe. When she finally could see, she gasped as she saw Isolde's furious face in front of her, her short black dress folding over her like doom itself.

"My darling girl." Isolde said the second word as if it was sweet poison, spitting into Aria's face. "Good thing you didn't hurt yourself. We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Aria could barely breathe as the queen stroked her throat with her long fingernail, and she fought the urge not to squirm. She had never been so scared in her life. One second more, and she never would've found me.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking," Isolde said, her sickly-sweet voice barely concealing the cold rage inside. "You sought to evade me; after all I've done for you, after all the power I'm going to give you. Sounds a bit selfish, doesn't it, my precious?"

It doesn't matter anymore! Aria wanted to shout. Even if you give me power, no one will love me anyways! She might as well have shouted, for Queen Isolde looked down at her disdainfully.

"Love? What is this you speak of? It is a phenomenon that only fools believe in! There is no such thing as love in this cold universe, Aria – you know that better than anyone!" Her eyes burned with cold fury.

There is love, Aria thought. It does exist in the world – I've seen it. It's just that no one will ever give it to me. She brushed a tear from her eye.

"Listen to me." Isolde's face came close to Aria's, her nose touching hers, her blue eyes flashing in her face. She spoke with such deadly precision that spit came out of her mouth. "You. Are. Mine." She tapped her fingernails on Aria's chin, and scratched it with her fingernails. "I am here to bring you greatness, and this how you repay me! Why did you try to kill yourself? Because you're a coward, that's why! And if you give up on your quest for revenge in the name of something that doesn't exist, you shall be forever known as a coward! So, what do you have to say?" Her eyes were balls of ice. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Aria couldn't speak. She squirmed at the feel of Isolde's icy hand on her chin, and fought the urge to thrash or scream out. She's right, I am a coward. She began to sob, tears and snot leaking down her face and into the ice.

The queen looked down at her with an expression of delight at her anguish. "Now, how should I punish you? Should I chain you until our next training-session? Or beat you so badly you won't ever try this again?"

Aria didn't know. All she knew was that there was absolutely no hope left for her. No matter what happened, she could have no expectation of salvation; even Death had closed its doors to her. She lowered her head in pain. Nothing can save me now…

"No!" a plaintive voice cried out. "Don't hurt her!"

Aria's eyes flew open and she stared behind her in disbelief. The brown-skinned girl was walking towards her, a desperate look in her eyes. Her angelic dress looked all the more pure as she stared at Isolde, her eyes wide and beseeching.

Angéle? thought Aria. What in the world was going on? Where'd she come from? And why is she sticking up for me? I thought she hated me! Her mind was in a whirl. What does she have to gain from this?

"And why shouldn't I?" Isolde asked icily.

"She – she just tried to kill herself," Angéle pleaded. "She's in so much pain, can't you see? Please, my queen, please don't do it!"

Internally, Aria still trembled with fear. She could still feel Isolde's cold fingers under her chin; at any moment, they could rake her and pierce through her flesh. She's not going to listen to her. Her heart sank as she felt the queen's breath on her face.

Then, quite suddenly, the sorceress tilted her head back and laughed.

"How sweet," she trilled. "A spy sticking up for her fellow prisoner." In one swift motion, she pulled Aria to her feet. Aria gasped in pain as her muscles were forced up, and she held hard onto Isolde's shoulder for support.

"We'll be going back now," Isolde said, pulling Aria along with her. "And I think it would be wise to keep these doors locked from now on." The double doors slammed shut. "You. I'll deal with you later." She looked hard at Angéle, but the dark-eyed girl held her gaze, though a flash of fear went across her eyes.

Aria could barely process what was going on. All she knew was that her suicidal urge still hadn't vanished; she still wanted to kill herself as much as ever. But now it was compounded with confusion, confusion at the fact that someone in this horrible world had actually tried to help her, with no personal gain to herself. What in the world just happened?

I hope that wasn't too dark. I'm sure you're all wondering what's going to happen to Aria now. Fret not; you'll find out in the next installment.

School was cancelled today because of all the snow. I meant to update yesterday, but as usual, forgot. I think today's snow provides a more fitting mood for this chapter, anyways.

Next chapter:

- Saraswati, the High Priestess, takes a more active role.

- Aria has a heart-to-heart conversation with Angéle.

- Maire finally finds the courage to speak to her mom.

So that's all for today! For those of you snowed in, enjoy your time off. Stay warm, and drink lots of hot-chocolate!