Heart of the Winter King

Dreams of the Past

That night, as Aeon lay beneath the thick furs in her cold chamber, sleep came slowly. Her mind was heavy with the weight of what she had learned from Sylas—the truth of Aelion's curse, the tragic story of the sorceress Isolde, and the frozen heart that now ruled the Winter Kingdom. It was a tale both sorrowful and dangerous, a curse entwined not just with Aelion's fate but with the entire realm.

As exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep, her dreams shifted into something vivid, almost too real to be dreams at all.

In the beginning, she was in the same palace she had wandered during her waking hours, but it wasn't the cold, desolate place she had come to know. The ice was there, yes, but it shimmered in the warm glow of sunlight streaming through windows that no longer appeared frost-covered. The halls, once silent and echoing with the stillness of winter, now buzzed with life—laughter, music, the soft murmur of conversation.

Aeon felt herself moving through the palace as if she were part of it, yet separate, like a silent observer in another world. The courtiers that passed her were vibrant and full of energy, their smiles genuine, their skin glowing with warmth. They greeted one another with the grace and joy she had never seen in the Winter Court.

And then she saw him—Aelion.

But this Aelion was nothing like the icy, distant king she had come to know. This man was young, his hair gleaming like molten silver in the sunlight, his eyes bright with passion and warmth. He stood among his people, laughing with them, his presence commanding but kind. His robes, though still white and silver, did not seem to reflect the cold but rather the light of a kingdom in full bloom.

Aeon could feel it, the warmth in this dream world—an overwhelming sense of life and vibrancy that radiated from Aelion and the people around him. This was no cursed king, no ruler trapped in the endless grip of winter. This was a man who loved, who lived, and who cared deeply for his kingdom and those within it.

The dream shifted again, as dreams so often do, the scene melting into something new.

Aeon found herself standing on the edge of a grand garden, its flowers blooming in every color imaginable. She had not seen a single living flower since entering the Winter Kingdom in reality, but here, they thrived, their petals brushing against one another in the gentle breeze. And there, standing at the center of the garden, was Aelion once more. But this time, he was not alone.

Beside him stood a woman, beautiful and glowing with a warmth that seemed to rival the sun. Her golden hair fell in waves around her shoulders, her eyes bright and full of love as she gazed at Aelion. Aeon knew, without being told, that this woman was Eira—the mortal Aelion had loved, the woman who had captured his heart long before the curse took hold.

They stood together, their hands intertwined, as if the entire kingdom could not come between them. Aelion's face was soft, filled with an expression Aeon had never seen—pure happiness. He leaned down to whisper something to Eira, and she laughed, the sound light and musical, filling the garden with joy.

Aeon's heart twisted as she watched them. This was the love that had been lost, the love that had driven Isolde to curse Aelion, to trap him in a prison of ice and bitterness. The warmth between Aelion and Eira was so palpable that Aeon felt herself drawn toward it, as if the love they shared was a flame, and she was helpless to resist its pull.

The scene shifted again, darker this time, and Aeon felt a shiver crawl up her spine.

The garden withered before her eyes, the flowers curling and turning to frost as a bitter wind swept through the trees. Aelion's smile faded, his eyes filled not with love but with dread. Eira was no longer by his side. Instead, a figure cloaked in shadow approached him—Isolde, her face hidden beneath a dark hood, her eyes glowing with a malevolent light.

"You will regret your choice, Aelion," Isolde's voice echoed through the dream, a voice filled with anger and betrayal. "You spurned me for a mortal, for someone who cannot possibly understand the power we share. And for that, I will make you suffer."

Aelion stood frozen, his once bright eyes darkening with sorrow. He reached for Eira, but she was gone, her figure fading into the growing storm.

Aeon watched in horror as Isolde raised her hands, dark magic swirling around her like a living entity, wrapping itself around Aelion. The ground beneath his feet froze, and the warmth of the garden was snuffed out, replaced by an overwhelming cold that spread through the land. The once-golden light of the sun dimmed, and the kingdom itself seemed to shudder under the weight of the curse.

Aelion cried out, but it was too late. His heart—once so full of love—turned to ice, and the kingdom with it. The people who had once thrived under his rule were consumed by the same cold, their laughter and joy replaced by silence and fear.

Aeon tried to move, to do something, but she was powerless in the face of the curse. All she could do was watch as the ice crept over Aelion, trapping him in a prison of frost, his eyes dull and lifeless, his once-warm smile gone forever.

In the distance, Aeon heard a voice—faint, but familiar. It was Kaidan, calling her name.

"Aeon... help me..."

She turned, searching for her brother, but the dream was crumbling around her, the frozen garden dissolving into mist. The voice grew fainter, and Aeon reached out, desperate to find him, but her hands passed through the shadows, grasping at nothing.

And then, she woke.

Aeon sat up in bed, her heart racing, her skin slick with cold sweat. The room was dark and silent, the only sound the faint crackle of ice outside her window. For a moment, she struggled to catch her breath, her mind still reeling from the vividness of the dream.

But it hadn't just been a dream. She was sure of that. It had been a memory, or at least, a vision of the past—Aelion's past. She had seen him as he once was, full of warmth and love, before Isolde's curse had frozen his heart and turned the Winter Kingdom into a land of ice and sorrow.

The pain in Aelion's eyes, the weight of his loss, lingered with her, and for the first time, Aeon began to truly understand the depth of the curse that bound him. It wasn't just his heart that had been frozen—it was his soul. And somehow, Aeon knew that the key to breaking the curse lay in unlocking the love he had once shared with Eira, the love that had been lost to the winter.

But there was more. Kaidan's voice had been in the dream as well. Could he be connected to the curse? Was his disappearance tied to the same dark magic that had ensnared Aelion?

Aeon didn't have the answers yet, but she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't ignore the dreams. They were showing her something important, something she needed to understand if she was going to free Aelion—and find her brother.

The curse was real, and now, more than ever, Aeon knew that breaking it would be far more difficult—and dangerous—than she had ever imagined.