Black Ice

Anhrefen

Anhrefen stood stark against the white Valania snow. The desert was uninhabited save for the Darkwitch. She trudged through towards the Northern Center.
   Long ago, the Darkwitches had ruled Valania, as well as Vorsunto. The Icewitches, Vontorca and Vantica. Those days were a millennium past. Traded for the new technology, their myth left behind.
   From the western reaches of Medrozai to the eastern reaches of Torvin, the old ways had been forgotten. Stomped on by the 'science' that had been adopted by the humans. They no longer trusted the mystical ways of elves and faeries. Witches and dragons. Wraiths and phantoms. Wizards and fauns. They were mere memories of the past.
   Humans, with their feeble minds, had taken Anhrefen's power. She had once been a sought out mystic. Her apothecary a hub of life. True potions had been a staple for humans. Emperors and kings had paid her generously for potions of love and wisdom. Even normal humans would give their firstborn for her smallest enchantments.
   She had never been alone: her loyal acolytes always surrounding her. Customers were welcome to stay in one of her many rooms while she prepared their elixirs.
Her lavish mansion home was gigantic. It's many rooms filled with talking people and witches. She had been renowned. Now she had to travel to Galdur every year to replenish her power. One year. It was a blink compared to her long life.
   Anhrefen had journeyed to the Northern Center countless times.
It was the singular polestar of magic in Valania. The only inkling of it left on the ice continent. The travel was rough and hard.
   She could see the mountains that scratched the sky ahead of her. Just over them was the Center. Galdur. It was Anhrefen's birthplace. One of the four beginnings of magic.
   No one saw the witch speed ahead. A speed no human could match. Up and over the mountains. So fast a faerie couldn't flap their wings.
   Over the mountain, a grey and white city stretched out before her. Concrete and industrial buildings, tar roads, and in the very middle was the Center.
   The structure was breathtaking. It was a tall palace like building. Like the mountains, it reached towards the sky. The glittering crystal and diamond widened near its base, to fit its elaborate entranceway. A door made entirely of  glass. A living stalagmite.
   The structure was truly alive. It throbbed with a overwhelming power. The power of witches and dragons and elves and fawns and samurai and sirens.
   The Valanian Center had birthed the first witches. They had stayed near the Center at first; grasping at its power.  They protected it and in return it protected them.
   It wasn't until the witches left the stalagmite that the humans overran Galdur. Pillaging and taking their city. The humans and witches lived together for a time before the humans became distrustful.
   But that was years ago. Generation upon generation of humans had passed and Anhrefen had rarely met any. She did not like to travel to Galdur. It brought back memories. Memories best left untouched. Memories best left by themselves. If those memories were seen...it wasn't just Hell Anhrefen would unleash.
She trailed down into the city. Closer and closer. She could not run or the humans would see her. They would hurry to find their weapons before trying to find her and burn her.
Fire was the only way to kill a Darkwitch. The only thing that could melt their skin and break their iron bones. It was Darkwitches themselves that spread the truth to how they could be killed. Humans had weaseled their way into the minds of some endangering them all.
A mass exodus of Darkwitches had left most of Valania without its former magic. And without them the Center grew weaker and weaker every day. Without all of the witches that had once called the Center their only home, soon it would die. One of the four corners of magic left dead. If one corner died so would the others, even if it took them centuries to fade and melt. Centuries was too short. The humans could never understand. They could only hope to live one century.
As Anhrefen stalked into the city she wondered how humans could accomplish so much in their tiny lifespans. Anhrefen had been everywhere. She had traveled the globe. She had met elves in Zemly Voina, dragons in the Savage Lands, and fairies in Puu. She had encountered emperors and empresses. Queens and kings. Dukes and duchesses. Princes and princesses. Most humans never left their home countries. She wondered if they dreamt of more for theirselves. They stayed in their tiny towns and married people they knew all of their life or just met and had tiny children that repeated the process.
She stood at the iron gates. The two men stationed by them gazed at her lustily. Anhrefen's beauty was not something that could by ignored. She was a dark beauty. Her skin, a deep brown, popped her eyes.
Her eyes, rimmed with a white kohl, were a stark golden yellow. Speckles of black glimmered in her iris. They tilted up at the ends, making it look as if she was always smiling. Her eyelashes were long and dark and grazed her cheeks when she blinked.
The guards were helpless to do anything but gape at her. She waved them on, so they would quit their frenzied ogling. One rushed through the door he had been leaning on. Anhrefen, with her long, pointed ears equipped to hear far better than humans, heard the faint clicking of buttons and pulling of levers.
With a slow, creaky start the gates dragged themselves open. Opening the city to her. Before stepping in, she casted her mind out. One could never be too careful when dealing with humans. Some had the power to look beyond her first shields. To most she was simply a girl. A beautiful girl, but only that. She drew into the humans who could see her truly. Plucking it from them. She couldn't hold it for long. Perhaps a day, but more would be a struggle even with the Center so near.
Anhrefen nodded to the gaurds.
The sky was a clear eggshell color. Around the Center, the sky was an off kilter orange. Almost blue, but sickly somehow. The Center was weak and dying. The humans wished to not believe it. During the golden age of magic, the skies been a clear blue. Bluer even, above the Center.
   She walked along the roads, heels clicking quietly along the way. Anhrefen looked into the windows of shops as she walked along. Clothing. Clothing. Shoes. Weapons. Clothing. Weapons. Weapons. The market was situated between the parliament building and the Homestead, the orphanage of Galdur.
Anhrefen needed to make her way to the apartment district. Except for the orphanage, the apartment district housed the only living spaces in the city. There she would find what she needed.
Through the winding streets that led to the heart of town, the only place that led to the apartment district, Anhrefen passed many humans. Children, seniors. All of them wreaked of normality. Their faces dull and monotonous.
It was sad, almost.
But they did not matter. They would live and die. Anhrefen was eternity.
Near the middle of the shopping district, was a classical fountain. Truly beautiful. Only a few hundred years younger than Anhrefen, the fountain was extremely old. It was as ornate as her old mansion. Tall and spraying, it was a meeting place of sorts. Townies gathered around it, to talk and enjoy their short, little lives.
Anhrefen strode towards it. She had missed the fountain. Fond memories accumulated at the tip of her mind. She grinned at the sparkling golden spouts. She had attended the grand opening of the fountain. She ambled to the front of the jets and ran her fingers over the plaque. Lightly, lightly, she outlined the raised letters.
She was shocked the name was still their. Eira Neve. Anhrefen gasped. It was still there. After all this time...the humans hadn't removed it.
"You!" a voice screamed. "Who are you?" Anhrefen turned to look upon an old woman. Her long white hair fell above her shoulder and her eyes...with one look Anhrefen could tell she was blind. Anhrefen tried to peer into her mind, finding only a bottomless pit of grey instead.
Anhrefen willed her voice to stay quiet. "I am Ana. Ana Tabin."
The woman's voice turned to a sick croak. "I have seen you in my dreams, girl. You aren't really a girl though, aren't ya? Your kind hasn't been welcome here for one thousand years. Why don't you tell all of-" she stopped. Anhrefen could see her eyes roll into her head. Blood dribbled out of her mouth. In her dirty shirt, where her heart was, a shiny piece of metal protruded forwards. Her hold on Anhrefen loosened.
The woman fell. Crumpled, she rolled and coughed. Anhrefen bent down to her. The woman said finally, "You will only ever rest in Hell...along with all your kin." And with that, the woman heaved a sigh. She was dead.
Anhrefen looked up. Standing, only a few feet from her was a man. His smile was as sweetly sick as she remembered.