A fairytale of a beautiful maiden, the beloved Frost Flower Princess was supposed to be staying in the comfort of her castle masquerading as a cage to protect her from the dangers outside, imprisoned by her own brothers.
That is, until a mysterious...
* "You just don't know it yet, but you love me and I love you the same. One day, we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything. We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part. Oh, you don't know it yet, but baby, I've already got your heart."
** Ahtohallan - River of Memoria: Rursus in Olla Polypi
Y/n's eyes fluttered open to the familiar, haunting calm of Ahtohallan. Snow-flowers unfurled with every step of her bare feet, their crystalline petals glowing faintly as she moved toward the towering wall of mist. Her gaze, blank and distant, lingered on the pale veil before her.
The soft murmur of a river echoed across the dreamscape of the Garden of Recollection, carrying with it whispers of the past. It was then she noticed—her attire had shifted. No longer the same as during her previous visits to this realm, shaped by her Signature Spell, All is Found.
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She glanced down, eyes widening slightly. A silken gown shimmered like frost-touched moonlight, and above her head a delicate veil materialized, its clasps perfectly embracing her horns to hold it in place.
"This...?" she breathed, fingertips brushing the fabric. A fleeting spark of recognition stirred within her. "It's... pretty."
Her attention returned to the mist wall. Raising her hand, she whispered softly, "Show me... the cold memories of the past, Ahtohallan."
A faint hum reverberated through the air, the veil around her trembling as if in answer. The mist peeled away—yet not as before. It lifted and then collapsed, cascading over her like a living tide until the realm was cloaked in fog.
Within the haze, bubbles shimmered, drifting upward before bursting into silence. When the mist cleared, Y/n realized she was submerged. The world around her was now underwater.
Fish darted through coral forests, young merfolk laughed as they played, all of them sculpted in delicate, eternal ice. Awe filled her as she drifted through the frozen tableau.
Her eyes caught on a small structure resembling an igloo. Inside rested a large pot. Curiosity pulled her closer, and within it, she saw him—round, chubby, and unbearably small.
Azul.
As a young child.
"The only place I ever belonged was inside an octopus pot."
The voice reverberated through the waters—not from the child she was watching, but from the Azul outside these memories. Present. Bitter.
