The Twelve Kingdoms

White Apple

/// Snow White

Frost Kingdom ///

Everything was white. Even though it was night, even though the sky was pitch black. He could feel the whiteness all around him. He stumbled over the snow as he ran, sloppy fat snowflakes clinging to his hair and clothes, clumping his eyelashes and burning the skin of his face.

He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't even know where he was. He ran anyway, as fast as he could, because of this feeling, this wrenching, suffocating, clingy feeling of absolute dread. He had no memories, not even of his own name. His brain was a blank sheet of stark white, like hospital walls.

It was cold, oh so freezing, but he didn't feel it. He just knew. His thin white shirt clung to his arms and chest and back, crackling with frost as he moved, his tight black pants almost felt like they were a part of his skin. His breath came out in puffs, white smoke sparkling as it made contact with the snowflakes twirling all around him.

And he ran and ran and ran until he couldn't feel his bare feet anymore, until he felt like his lungs finally collapsed from so much rushed breathing. His whole immune system was starting to slowly shut down, protesting his overexertion with blurring vision and the threat of passing out. He paid his body no attention and continued to run, although at a much slower pace, until he saw a burning blue light in the distance. Gathering all the strength he had left, he half-ran, half-crawled to the light's source, which turned out to be a small wooden cabin, and collapsed the moment his shaking fist came in contact with the door.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The whiteness was so incredibly blinding and harsh that it hurt his brain. He slowly opened his eyes and the world around him came into a much softer, and thankfully darker, focus. He was laying down on something warm and soft, with a dark grey wool blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. He could hear the crackling of a fireplace somewhere beyond his line of vision.

Everything was so hot and stuffy and suffocating and his heart was beating double its regular speed. He took his hands out from under the blanket and tried to prop himself up into a sitting position.

The room was small and softly lit by the dancing flames of the fireplace in the corner. The bed he was in was on the opposite side of a huge window, but he couldn't see outside because it was covered with heavy velvet draperies. The floor was wood, just like the walls, and a thin patterned carpet was set right in the middle of it.

There was a smell in the room, something so subtle that he couldn't quite pin-point it exactly, something along the lines of lilacs and roses and blood and something else. He's sure he'd never smelt it before, but it was making his hands curl up in fists on their own accord, whether in anger or in fear, he wasn't sure.

He threw the covers off of himself, exhaling in relief as the slightly cooler air surrounded him. His heartbeat wouldn't slow down, even though he had no clue what caused it to go so fast in the first place. His mind felt so blank that he didn't even care how unsettling it was.

The door on the far right opened soundlessly, but his head quickly snapped toward the movement. The girl closed the door behind her and slowly walked toward him, and he was hit with that smell much harder this time. He kept his face blank as he observed her; white, almost sparkling long wavy hair, wide twinkling eyes that pierced right into his soul (he wasn't sure if that was even possible because it felt like he already had his soul sucked out of him). She was wearing black and purple that covered every part of her body other than her pale face. And when she spoke, her voice was the tinkling of icicles on frozen pines, the sound those spinning ballerina music boxes made when they twirled.

"You don't remember me," she said and smiled when he nodded. "I'm glad."

She didn't look very glad. In fact, she didn't look like she was feeling anything at all, a perfect neutral mask guarding her emotions.

He could ask her, ask her if she knew him, if he used to know her somehow before, but the blankness of his brain felt so much more comfortable. So he didn't ask, he didn't say anything at all, just stared right back at her.

"Let's go to the kitchen," she said, turning back to the door. "You should be hungry."

He followed her out of the room, his growling stomach answering for him. The kitchen was pretty small as well, all wood and chrome, dimly lit by glowing blue light that didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular.

She gestured for him to sit at the oak table and after a few minutes of the sounds of clinking dishes, she put down a hot bowl of soup in front of him. He thanked her, and started to eat slowly, the liquid burning his throat when he swallowed. She stood leaning against the wall, watching him with conflicting emotions barely flickering in those wide eyes.

After he finished and put the spoon down, the bowl suddenly up and floated away and he almost fell out of his chair with a loud yelp. The girl bit down her smile as the bowl finally landed in the sink. He stared at her, heart manically rattling in his chest.

"Telekinesis," the girl simply said as his spoon lifted off the table and floated in space right above her raised index finger.

"Who are you?" he asked, but he really didn't care as long as she let him stay here. He didn't want to leave this place for some reason.

"Lacie," she answered. "Your biggest enemy."

The blankness in his mind twitched a little, like static. He gave her a questioning glance and she smiled sweetly at him as the spoon floated to the sink to join the bowl.

"But not anymore, not really, because you don't remember. Plus, you're really cute when you're not plotting my murder."

"I..." The static twitched again. "I was plotting your murder?"

"Mine and half the world's."

She looked so calm but he was so confused. "I...?"

Leaning toward him over the table until her face was inches away, her gaze turned serious. He had to blink a few times because her eyes were like a starry sky and suddenly that choking feeling of despair was back.

"But you're not anymore. You're not him anymore." His brain was going haywire, glitching like a broken laptop screen. "You killed him."

He reared back, unbalancing the chair which came crashing to the floor, gravity pulling him with it. Chest heaving and vision blurring with involuntary tears. She kneeled next to him as he looked up at her angelic face.

"I sent you the apple, Prince Yuki," she said, brushing his black hair away from his forehead with her warm fingers. "In the note, it said that if you eat it, it'll erase you. I didn't know if you'd eat it or throw it away and continue with your plan."

"I don't remember anything..." His forehead was burning painfully from her touch and she finally removed her hand.

"That means you ate it. And the Five Kingdoms are not buried in 50 feet of snow."

"But why-"

"A long time I promised to save you from yourself if you couldn't do it. And even though you didn't know I made that promise, I'm still keeping it."

That feeling in his chest tightened, squeezing his lungs until he could barely breathe. "Who am I?"

"Whoever you want to be."