Princess of the Phrost (the miniseries): Creation

THE CLIFF

Aymon and Nabeh spoke briefly then arranged for Aymon to visit the warlock's home later that evening so to pass the time Aymon headed out to explore his surroundings.

Starkville was a quiet place where everyone knew everyone, and the families had been there for generations. The food was different but great, the people were friendly, but Aymon couldn't get rid of a longing feeling in his chest. He had a nagging feeling that he'd left something behind from the moment he'd crossed into the Lesserworld but had no clue what and it seemed to get worse the longer he stayed away. That is until one day it vanished, longing replaced it but longing for what? Near sundown Aymon made the almost 2-hour drive to the address Nabeh had texted to him in Jackson, pulling up to what appeared to be an abandoned hotel. Following the instructions given Aymon exited his car and descended a flight of steps now faced with a steel door.

"Why do you come here?" a raspy masculine voice asked. The slot opened and a pair of black tired eyes peered through a small window.

"I am Prince Aymon Sharian of Zelaria". The door opened quickly revealing an elderly man with dark hair and a demonic presence. A warlock. Aymon was disgusted by the appearance of the building, the smell of dried blood clung to the air and the floor was so grimy his shoes stuck as he walked.

"This is no place for a future king. Apologies, your grace" the hunched man chuckled, opening another door revealing an elevator. The higher they climbed the more relaxed Ayon seemed to become. A sweet herby smell filled his nostrils and by the time he reached the top floor Aymon's body was almost heavy. The sound of the elder man's sharp knocks on the door loudly bounced around in his head, jerking him out of his slump.

"Please remove your shoes and follow me" a fair skinned girl greeted him. Doing as she asked Aymon wandered the halls amazed that the upstairs was beautifully decorated and had a homey atmosphere. The hotel had been gutted out and had a lofty open design. Stopping in front of a sliding door the girl knocked lightly announcing his arrival before bowing and exiting the area. The room where Nabeh awaited him was blindingly white, the only touch of color came from the dark furniture and the blood red Zelarian crest that was painted on the wall. The only pieces in this room was a large desk holding various ingredients and a small round table befitting a child with four large pillows surrounding it.

"Elee an Arvandor... I thought I'd never lay eyes on them again" Nabeh smiled warmly. Extending his hand, the famed warlock formally introduced himself and apologized for not having Aymon come through the main door. Aymon sat comfortably on a pillow and sipped his tea, tea made from Zelarian leaves that he hadn't realized he'd missed dearly.

"At the king's request I will only rid you of the ears which will greatly affect your hearing, but unlike the potion provided to gatekeepers the remainder of your attributes will remain intact. You must be mindful amongst the humans young prince and only use magic if absolutely necessary" Nabeh commented calmly. Nabeh moved at a lightning speed while mixing the contents of various vials into a slightly larger one and chanting to himself. Aymon continued sipping his tea until a dizzying warmness washed over him and the room filled with smoke, forcing him to struggle to focus as Nabeh slowly strolled over. Nabeh's motions with his hands reminded Aymon of Jeremiah's sign language minus the glowing fingertips but once an unknown language began falling from the warlock's lips, Aymon fell faint.

Aymon was startled, waking up in an unknown forest, first noticing the absence of light. There wasn't a star in the sky, the moon was nowhere to be found and there wasn't the slightest breeze. How can silence be deafening? This had to be a dream. Aymon ran with no direction, unable to see in the darkness he ran, trying desperately to escape the thick brush soon but found himself falling. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out as the earth began to swallow his body whole. This was it, death, but he found himself welcoming it, closing his eyes and accepting his fate. Aymon seemed to find clarity in the darkness, the emptiness of this space was a representation of his own emptiness. He'd run away, was granted his freedom but his demons followed, loneliness followed. The young prince gasped for breath as the weight of the world crushed him; quite literally. He suddenly panicked, needing to open his eyes to see a single star in the sky. Desperate, Aymon clawed at the ground, forcing his way out of his pit of despair. No longer did he fear for his own life, Aymon feared never laying eyes on that star again. The wind began swirling angrily as he dug himself out of the pit, grateful for the stinging ache in his bloody fingertips once freed. He migrated toward it, allowing it to fill his heart, hoping it would lead him out of the darkness, but it seemingly took him deeper into the brush. Anxious, Aymon began running, seeing a clearing up ahead but was stopped by what was surely the voice of an angel. Her voice drew him in, a siren's call and he her mindless slave until he quietly stepped between two trees in awe. The star vanished and, in its place, sitting on the edge of the cliff was a white-haired little girl, his savior.

Aymon jolted awake covered in sweat and gasping for air, he was back in the now dimly lit office stretched across two pillows.

"Interesting dream young prince," Nabeh smirked, motioning toward the vial on the table. "The potion increases the duration of the spell, check the back of your neck for the crest as it is the sign for you to return" he explained. Aymon quickly swallowed the contents of vile with his features twisted up in disgust, this one was much more bitter. Nabeh watched him closely as Aymon examined himself in the mirror with a smile, noticing the change in the young ruler in the short visit. Declining to take payment, Nabeh led Aymon to the front entrance, instructing him to come that way going forward. Climbing into his car Aymon sped away breathing easier knowing he was going home to Starkville.

******

Safri spent all the time she could in the sun, trying new food and socializing as much as the natives would allow. She noticed that this was a small place where everyone knew everyone, and she was an outsider which often made things difficult. Eventually Safri met a girl named Amelie at a local cafe in town and they quickly became friends. Amelie was a tall, beautiful girl with an exotic skin tone and wild curly hair that fell around her round face like a lion's mane, a shapely figure and a thick accent. Nearly a week had passed and the two met every day. Mel, as she liked to be called, taught her about Instagram and Tik Tok, they shopped and surprisingly were both into art which led Safri to signing up for classes at the local school.

"You can stay with me. I need a roommate" Amelie offered. Considering Safri a good friend after their time together, when she heard Safri had been staying in a hotel Mel extended the invitation since the house wasn't far from the school. Amelie was a native and recently moved back into her childhood house. It was left to her after both parents died, she then lived with an aunt in Jackson but now that she was an adult she decided to come home.

Living in the basement go figure. It was carpeted, with its own bathroom and a side door which was great for privacy. Safri after getting her living space organized and getting all moved in sat wondering how she would tell this tale once she returned home, if she returned at all. The feel of the sun was amazing, the indigenous were friendly enough considering they didn't know she wasn't human but above all else she had a choice. Choices. Safri woke one night with an empty feeling in her chest, a tight longing feeling that plagued her well into the morning until just as quickly as it came it vanished. Once she successfully willed herself back to sleep, Safri sat perched upon the cliff and as always, she painted, she did so every night. In the darkness she could make out every leaf on the trees, every stone and bug on the ground, she could hear the frantic beating of her own heart. The tightness in her chest was back but this wasn't longing, no this was something else; something completely new. This warmth surrounded her, seeping into the skin, flowing through her veins, wiping away what was left of the darkness in her heart. Safri's hand soon moved at light speed across the canvas as she poured her feelings onto the paper until the sound of a twig snapping broke into her thoughts. It had found her in the darkness, Safri's source of the recently found light but when she turned around there was nothing. Nothing but the memory of what was.