Forged in Frost and Fire (Book 1 in the Chronicles of Kings trilogy)

Prologue

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice,

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

-Robert Frost

The Prince of Shadows

The Prince of Shadows was having another dream.

He'd been having them for quite a while now, each one was more confusing than the last. Each foggy, as if looking through a veil or a strip of fabric. It'd give him a headache trying to decipher them when he awoke, so most times when it'd happen, he'd simply just let himself enjoy it. It was a little escape for him, something to whisk him away from the screams, and blood, and pain that had become so familiar to him, that swam at the back of his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

This dream was much like the others, except it was more bleached of color. He was looking through someone else's eyes, as per usual, except the vantage point was taller. The girl must have grown some since last time. He only knew she was a girl because she was wearing a dress and wore slippers, albeit, dirty and riddled with holes, but still feminine slippers. His own mother had worn similar ones like it.

Where was the girl now, though? It was nowhere he recognized. Normally she was always somewhere warm, or at least it felt like she was. Always shrouded in love and laughter. Someone was almost always holding her hand or a parent was kissing her brow. It was bliss to the Prince because he couldn't remember the last time someone showed him so much affection. He had been separated from his own parents for far too long to remember what it felt like to be so loved. Could he even really feel love anymore? He wasn't sure. He felt like that part of his soul was broken.

The girl was crying, he could feel her tears on his own cheeks, he could also feel the ache in his chest that made him know she was close to sobbing, suppressing it. She was in some sort of open area, trees on either side of her. She had someone to the right of her, not holding her hand, but close enough. He couldn't turn to see who that person was, but whoever it was was giving off a coldness he could identify as anger.

"Here lies the graves of two loving parents, taken too soon-" She was at a funeral. The poor girl, she must have lost her parents. The Prince didn't know if it was a shared emotion, but he felt his own heart break a little at the vision. He had grown close to the girls parents after watching their interactions through her eyes. They had only ever loved their daughter. He wondered how they died and why they were taken so soon and at such a vulnerable age.

The next few moments were muffled, either because of the girl not listening, or whatever spotty connection was keeping him linked to her. That happened often, the strange muffling, as if the connection was weakening.

The vision changed then, the girl was running away from where the funeral took place and was darting through people. Her vision was blurry with tears, the Prince could see them blurring the edge of his gaze. Her little feet pounded into the dirt with vigor, and she ran straight into the forest.

Trees darted up on either side of them, and the Prince watched as she tripped over roots and leaves and eventually fell. She didn't get up though, she kept sobbing, close to screaming, even.

Sympathy made his heart ache and he desperately wanted to reach out to her. She was such a little thing, undeserving of all this heartache. He knew what the loss of hope felt like and now this little one did too. He wished she didn't. If there was one thing he could do it would be to take away her heartbreak.

The girl stayed there for a while, until she forced herself into a sitting position and rested her back against a tree. She was still crying though, the Prince wondered how such a little human could hold so many tears. He was sick of her tears though, so he did something he wasn't sure he'd be able to do.

Grabbing a tendril of power, he focused his control and sent a flicker of shadow over to her, laced with a sleeping ether. It was something his power had always been able to do, the peaceful side to such darkness. The girl calmed at the feeling of his tendril brushing her cheeks, wiping her tears. She giggled as it brushed her nose and eyelashes, drying those too. Eventually the tendril slipped under her nose and she breathed in that sweet smell and he felt her head loll to the side. She was asleep. He sent out a ward around her, scaring off any animals or magical beings who could endanger her. She'd be safe for a long while.

As soon as the girl was dead asleep, the Prince awoke. He wished he could sleep like she did. But he knew his dreams would be plagued of his wrong doings, he didn't exactly feel like enduring more torture tonight. So instead, he dragged himself to a standing position and put on his armor. Never a moment of peace for the Prince of Shadows. It was something he had long since understood and accepted.