HEART OF ICE

CHAPTER 8

The main hall of the palace was a cold and gloomy skeleton of its former majesty. The intricate tile work on the floor was scratched and dingy-where it wasn't missing entire sections or covered in the snow and ice that had found its way inside. There were more battle scars in the dimly lit chamber, as many as outside. The ceiling above the dilapidated floor was the skeleton of a colossal dome that had long since lost its grandeur. Thick, stone girders with deep cracks running along their lengths and jagged, frozen edges were all that were left of the impressive structure. Sunlight once reached through dense, stained glass to bathe the tiled floor in a rainbow of striking colors.

Jarek noticed right away he was alone in the grand, decaying chamber. Ealiok Frius, king of the Barren Realm, was not sitting upon his throne as Jarek had expected. The tall seat was centered on a small dais near the very center of the room. The elevated platform wasn't original to the ancient assembly hall. Ealiok had it built for himself. It seemed more than a little out of place in that room, in that building, in a world of humility and genuine conviction. Ealiok Frius had neither of those traits.

The circular stage under the wrecked dome was of uneven width, carved too quickly and poorly from the dark rocks of distant mountains. The pale light of the morning sun was beginning to shine down into the quiet hall. It threw awkward highlights over the ridges and grooves of the high-backed chair and down over an encased trophy carefully balanced on a narrow stand of frozen, petrified wood. What was inside of the case displayed beside his throne was Ealiok's most prized possession.

Jarek was staring at it when he realized he was still alone in the expansive chamber. Minutes had gone by. His father had still not appeared. This is absurd, Jared thought angrily. I will not waste my time being obedient to a fool! Or made to look like one.

With a huff, Jarek started to turn back the way he came. He was ready to leave-and not just his father's throne room. Then, something in the grand hall changed. The cold air became more still and bitter feeling. A voice, raspy yet powerful, split the silence open.

"There was a shadow in my land today," Jarek's father said sharply.

Jarek didn't turn around. Not yet.

"What was it? A demon? A wraith? Death itself, perhaps?"

Jarek rolled his eyes. "It was Legion," the frost prince said, raising his voice above his father's as he turned back to face the stage.

Ealiok, repulsed at the word his son had spoken, stood aghast on the dais of his throne. His wrinkled and haggard, pale, blue-gray skin might have turned green if it could have. "Better it have been a wraith or even Death than an abomination of nature such as the like of...Legion."

Jarek crossed his arms, bored with the old man. Facing the king, Jarek resisted the temptation to roll his eyes again. He didn't want to make his father any more upset. It could mean being stuck in his presence even longer. Jarek wasn't sure he could endure that.

"What did it want?"

"Counsel," Jarek said simply.

Ealiok scoffed. "Counsel?! Dear boy, what a simple fool you are."

Jarek said nothing. His jaw tightened as he refrained from responding.

"Those foul fiends are a scourge-a plague-upon the worlds! They are tricksters. They are vile devils that reap and sow the most atrocious misery wherever they walk. Do not let yourself be played, boy! They have no need of counsel."

"The army of Claus has re-arisen."

Ealiok stood silent. Jarek thought he might be stunned by the announcement. Then he saw the corners of his father's dry, dark lips quivering. The man's firm, flat cheeks were risking being widened by a devilish smile. "Well," Ealiok said, his voice soft. There was a strange tone of happiness and subtle excitement in his voice. This was all new to the prince standing before him. "That is very interesting."

"You are not concerned?"

Ealiok breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring. He exhaled slowly as he sat himself upon his throne. Bones and joints on the old man snapped and popped loudly. Time was becoming less merciful to the near-immortal king.

"Does it concern me? Am I afraid?" Ealiok looked down at his son then around at the ancient chamber. His eyes seemed to be looking for ghosts he expected to be at the edges of the hazy light. The proud king laid his bony fingers over the top of the glass case beside his chair. Ealiok breathed deeply once more then answered, "No. I am not afraid."

"Why is that?"

"Because all of this has happened before. The army of Claus was once numerous and formidable. Yet, here we sit at what was the heart of their empire. Try as they might, those accursed, cowardly ghouls who stalk and creep and plan and scheme could not conquer the Claus or those who fought for him!

"It was I who pierced their defenses! It was I who marched through their walls! It was me, leading soldiers who were like weapons instead of living men, that snatched this place away from the elves and the others here and called it mine! I am king because..."

Ealiok allowed himself to pause, not just to be dramatic but because his mind was thinking back. A memory he recalled fondly came forward in his thoughts. The sound of his coarse skin caressing the rounded glass of the small case teased his ears. He stared with a merry glee in his old, beady eyes at the case's contents: a tattered top hat, a frayed, blood-stained scarf, and dark, tarnished snow. "Because," the king began to say again, "I took no prisoners. I showed no mercy. My ways made me ruler of all that you see...a world that belongs to us."

Jarek narrowed his eyes scornfully. "Said the caged bird upon his hanging perch."

"I will not be mocked by a boy who knows nothing of the world," Ealiok shouted, practically leaping off of his throne as he yelled at his son. "Go! Play your games with that shadow and his friends. In time, you will come to know how they manipulate. You will see how you are no more an equal than a rat or a snake. You will know what it is to be a puppet and how tightly those strings will strangle."

Jarek stared at the tall, thin-limbed man looming above him on the dark stage. Jarek did not see a man he felt worthy of being called powerful, or king...or father. He saw a frozen shell stripped of any real purpose or pride. Jarek had realized long ago the only lesson to truly learn from the old fool was what not to do. He would not go blindly or boastfully into battle for another man, nor would he let himself be so easily tricked.

The young prince turned away from the stage at last, slowly, purposefully. He wanted to make sure the gesture was noticed-that it was felt.

"One more thing," Ealiok said evenly. He waited for Jarek to stop walking but not for him to turn around. "I do not wish to see another shadow in my realm again. Let them stay in their world, in their dark tower where they can rule and play and stay safe from their enemies."

Jarek couldn't help but smile a little at his father's words. That was the source of the old king's confidence: the once long stalemate between the two sides. "But haven't you heard, your majesty," the prince asked without turning around. Instead, he started walking toward the doorway again. "The new Claus has broken their tower and killed one of them."

There was an audible gasp from from the center the hall. Ealiok couldn't keep it from echoing off the cracked, empty walls. There was the fear Jarek had suspected the old man was hiding.

The prince smiled even more. He let himself voice one more thought before leaving the throne room behind him. "I wonder what he'll do next?"

I'm so excited you read this part! I hope you liked it. If you did, please be sure to vote! And, if you can, please comment. I'd love to hear from you! Thank you, so much!