There's nothing quite like the snow across my planet. It's endless and flat, wavy, and turbulent. The dust from loose minerals change its color from time time showing white has more than single shade. In the north, there are dotted ice cliffs that trail eastward. Below that Nylanis. A sore thumb of urban neon as you drift south to the snow tides surrounding Tayloris. Deposits of crystals and icicles dot the landscape on the spacious trees, like fingers hoping to touch the ground for relief. Further south, the cliffs break and reform again, making organized designs as they reach the southeast cities of Tellaflor, only to melt slightly each season. Pickaxes and equipment hang loose in the wind with rotting scarves, as if to whisper of an adventure that had been experienced long ago. A testimony to a memory made on the icy cliffs.

~ Calissa Nylanis.

I have a Shasi too.

She follows me around and her name is Seran. It sounds funny to me, but I still remember when my companion chose me. It was after my father died in the war and shortly before my mother became ill. I considered myself abandoned and a nobody to the Shasis, already into my adulthood. That usually meant I was passed the years of choosing or something had happened to mine. The hunters ruin more than they think, but life is only perfect in the pictures. I accept that.

I was shoveling snow with our soldiers on the outskirts. Back then, I served my parents and the work took my mind off my sorrow. I thought I would live with it forever, but my Shasi found me. I was digging in one of the trenches around the cities perimeter. I saw a nose poke out from the snow. I dropped my shovel and found Seran. She's still young, but I know she chose me. She has been following me ever since she learned to walk on three legs. One was wounded and frozen and couldn't be saved. I'm saving up my money to buy her a mechanical one.

It wouldn't be right if I took money from the taxes. I'm allowed to, but I have an image to tend to. It's overbearing at times, but responsibility says otherwise. I rule over the Snowfell Palace and the largest city on the planet to the west. We call it Nylanis after my family name, but everyone calls it Neon Love like our planet. I used to rule over more, but the Mastals took over and humiliated my family. I told you my father died in the war, but that is only partially true. It sounds like he died a hero. It makes my image look good for the soldiers. I know the truth though. The lines have been blurred over time.

My father joined the Mastals and then committed suicide in guilt. He thought he was protecting me and mom. I often wonder if the Mastals wanted to divide our families this way. Everything seemed too sequential. A wet tongue and fuzzy head nudges my hand. I look down and pick up Seran. She was too big to pick up now, but she enjoyed when I tried. My contacts glisten with text.

“More newcomers!” exclaimed Seran.

She seemed excited to see them, but I wasn't. This was a bad time. Every few months I have to choose who is allowed to stay at the Snowfell Palace and who is sent away, most likely to die or suffer in the occupied towns. Newcomers have a different status than the residents. They are mouths to feed and I have a small kingdom to run. Everything has to be in order and self-sustaining. As much as I wish compassion could unite us, reality is no fairy tale. Everyone will starve if we take in too many. The worst part my job is when I let in the wrong people. People like to blame those in change and I refuse to run away. It is my responsibility. I'm with my people completely. Sometimes I wish my father had done the same. I can't blame him. He was just being realistic. The numbers didn't match his hopes. The Mastals were already the dominant power as predicted.

Those who serve the Mastals are safe now and better off in a many ways. They even have better technology. In some of occupied towns, the new elites are starting to prosper again. Everyone knows that. Those of us at the Snowfell Palace have chosen to suffer instead. I give away free things every so often – especially to the newcomers. I don't like it, but it's a quick way to win and keep loyalty. I'm competing with the Mastals. Everything is about control and I don't like it. The game must be played.

“It doesn't have to be played,” flash my eyes.

“Really Seran? Explain that to me.” My eyes light up observantly.

“Some still love our home. You don't have to buy them. They will be enough.”

I let out a breath and massage Seran's shoulders. Releasing control is never easy.

I make every newcomer take a vow of loyalty, even though I know their desperation is speaking for them. The Mastals have declared us their permanent enemy. There's no going back until we're all dead.

I take once last look around my bedroom. That's where I am now. My bed is white like the planet. The gold that used to outline the warm wood has been stripped and minted. I made my bed posts myself and so they still have value to me. The carpet is warm from the heaters beneath it. Some days they don't work, but that's from aging. I rest my head in one hand and rub at a scratch at my dresser with the other. I take at look into the mirror. My gray eyes stare back, still filled with life. I wonder how long that will last.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Outside my room, I enter down a stairwell. Everything is underground. The Snowfell Palace is still a wonder to me. It's a city built entirely of ice with pillars and chambers all tunneling through the snow. Heavy stones uphold certain parts, and insulation covers the areas people gather for warmth. I've grown used to the stillness and cold when everyone is asleep. During the working hours it's like any other city you would have at the surface. There's only one room where people aren't allowed to go. It's not my bedroom.

“This way, my Duchess.”

One of my soldiers leads me to the outskirts of the city. I enter a crowded expanse with people held back by soldiers, wondering what is going on. I retain my composure and let everyone know I am welcoming, but there are rules. My coat is tight with a fluffy hood, my boots tightly hold my pants against my shins and ankles. My hair has a healthy shine.

“You who journey here have been through much. I can only keep some of you, so enjoy your month here in the outer premises. I hope you take time to plan out your departure when the time comes. I will provide a few days rations if you leave and aren't welcome to stay. I'm sure you all knew the situation before you arrived. Rumors spread.”

There's some disturbance among the crowds, but my many soldiers pace around keeping people on their heels. They're decently equipped. Everyone listens as I speak once more.

“We will tolerate no spies. Anyone catching a spy and proving it will be greatly considered to stay. I wish I could take you all, but even the occupied areas can provide you what I cannot. I can't take you all. Only stay if it's truly what you want. I will provide what's available.”

A few people protest like usual. They hated the Mastals and their random acts of cruelty. The ones with families to threaten had more to lose. Sending them away wasn't a choice for them and I knew it. I was their only choice and it broke my heart every time.

A paw rubs my leg to get my attention. Eyes flash.

“Look. Over there please. Now now now.”

“I don't have time for that Seran. I have an image to protect. I belong to my people. Not individuals. You don't understand everything I do.”

The newcomers have become predictable to me. The good ones we train as ship crew members. We train and fire enough of them to keep our numbers shifting. No one is ever sure of our numbers, but we make use of the constant flow. I finish my speech.

“I wish you all the best. My soldiers will inform you of the rules now.”

“Rule number one. I and I alone choose who leaves the Snowfell Palace.....” begins one of my soldiers.

When the rules are laid out I wait for the reaction.

Once the protesters who hate the rules I lay out start shouting, the mixed bag comes. It always does. Some look at me and fantasy my hand in marriage. Others want their private say. The ones who seek power yell the loudest. I try to avoid them. Others seek to follow me, in hopes of get something more in their bellies. Often I close my eyes and imagine I was cursed by an evil Shasi. It's better than the fake neon love on this planet. People want your light, so long as you have power. I can't be that way though. I have to smile and do my best to see the big picture.

I look down at Seran. Our eyes lock as she helps me find the words I wrote earlier. I try not to make it too obvious. Everyone can see me talking to my Shasi. I'm sure a few aren't as stupid as I would like. Not everyone believes in the fairy tales. The ones who watch me speak with Seran are always the first to mock me when I visit the surface towns above. It's hard to remember everything going on in my head. My stress rises as the people are divided and sent away to the outskirts for now. There's clamor and few people are arrested at the sound of a broken bottle and knife stabbing incident.

My breath fogs rapidly, then I control it. I head back in the direction of my bedroom. I start to move faster to get away. There were a lot of children in this group and it breaks my heart. Children are usually innocent, but they also can't contribute until they're older. I think you understand me. We don't prioritize them.

Seran growls to get my attention. I don't slow down for her, but make eye contact. I want to fall asleep and start anew when I wake up. A good nap helps me in moments like this. It is my day off. Ice pillars pass me in a cooling whoosh and I nearly bump into some fractured sculptures forgetting they are there. There is one ice sculpture of an glorious angel that marks where I need to turn. She has an arched body and wings to take her away. I nod to several soldiers guarding a narrow hallway who open the door for me. Other soldiers try to get my attention. They probably want to know about the rations again. There were a lot of newcomers and things aren't going as well as they used to. At least the weapon imports are flowing smoothly. We receive a lot of charity. My leadership really has little to do with it, but everyone thinks otherwise. How's that for image.

On my way back to my bedroom I stop and take a different path. My day off was already half-over and it frustrated me. There's one room I told you about. It gives me peace when I think about our situation. Maybe I'll show you one day.

There's too much to talk about though. I try not to get my hopes up when I talk to others. I know I will let them down at some point. There is no such thing as a perfect leader, at least on Elissa Moon. Somehow we manage to mess things up once in a while. It keeps things exciting. I guess that's why the Shasis tell us their fairy tales. It keeps things exciting for them. Adults don't believe in fairy tales. That's something only children ponder.

I feel a paw at my waist. I lock eyes with Seran and they flicker.

“You should go back.”

“All the way back?”

“They're here. In the outskirts,” she growls.

“Who's here?”

“The one who will save your life.”