Shiver woke to a splitting headache.

‘Another wonderful night’s rest.’

She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep free from her nightmares for as long as she could remember. Sleeping in a cave utterly unguarded from the cold winter winds certainly hadn’t helped. Not that she had a choice. Well, any real choice.

She opened her eyes with some effort, prying apart the frost that glued her eyelids together. A familiar orphan girl stood crouched above her body.

Blaze, the little firefly. With a few differences.

Firstly, she was frozen. Her eyes were devoid of the girl’s characteristic playfulness and life.

Secondly, bloody ice spikes had been drilled into her neck and torso.

Thirdly, her head lulled at an impossible angle, her neck snapped and broken. Pale bone protruded from her neck with frozen rivulets of blood coating its surface. Shiver picked up the faint metallic scent of blood as she examined the scene above her prone body unblinkingly.

She took a deep breath, immediately trying to stem the anger that threatened to overcome her.

‘You will not have power over me. Not even over my rage.’

Shiver rose, pushing the frozen Blaze to her side. As her frozen body fell to the ground, it shattered into a multitude of frozen shards, confirming that it was a product of her Fear of ice.

A hallucination. She blinked, and the shards disappeared.

The coming of the day provided no reprieve from her nightmares.

---

‘Get your popsicles here! For the low price of three silver!’

The elderly elf struggled to raise his voice over the hubbub in Brimstone’s market.

Elves from the other Archcities and smaller settlements all visited Brimstone for its ore and gems. It also boasted the world’s most talented metalsmiths capable of crafting masterwork weapons and armour.

Many a legendary weapon were made from the city’s darksteel deposits, straight from Brimstone anvils.

‘Pov, you’re looking well. Business must be great.’

Why would popsicles sell well in the middle of a raging snowstorm, you might ask?

True to its name, Brimstone was warmed by the lava streams running through and underneath the city’s cobble. It was also guarded from the cold with an invisible barrier that encircled the city.

All in all, it led to a pretty toasty city.

Shiver bought her popsicles for a different reason.

The old elf broke out into a wide smile as he noticed Shiver walking towards him, grinning. He was dressed in dull purple tones, in flowing merchant’s robes. Robes were the pride of a merchant. Yet Shiver noticed how Pov’s were worn and frayed in places.

He handed her one of his popsicles, free of charge as per usual. She flicked him a coin anyway.

‘And you’re looking like you didn’t sleep a wink girl! You sure you don’t want to start and finish your days with something warm instead?’

Shiver snorted, taking a gigantic lick of the popsicle as if to spite his statement.

‘Me? Give up your delicious pieces of terror? Never.’

Pov chuckled.

‘Never have I met someone so keen licking the very thing that torments them.’

Shiver gave Pov a sly look.

‘Are you sure about that old man? I feel sorry for Marta.’

Pov chuckled, reaching into his cart to chuck another popsicle at Shiver in swift retaliation. Deftly catching it, Shiver promptly stuck it in her mouth alongside her first one. As the sensation of cold doubled,

Pov flashed before Shiver’s eyes, turning into a morbid, frozen statue. The sight reminded her of Blaze’s frozen visage that had welcomed her that same morning.

She flinched.

Pov took notice, squinting at her. Shiver turned away from the old elf’s discerning gaze. Where other elven men closer her own age would have been distracted by her lean physique or enrapturing eyes - by Shiver’s own description - Pov took notice of the bags under her eyelids, and the twitching in her cheeks.

He spoke in a low tone, voice layered with concern.

‘Shiv, I meant what I said. You look like you’re on the brink of Insanity, like you haven’t caught a wink. When was the last time you got a good night’s rest?’

Biting back the desire to unleash an acerbic, witty quip, Shiver simply looked at her feet, avoiding his gaze.

For an orphan, kindness was a commodity. Pov was one of the few people in this Feardamned city that gave it generously.

Him and Marta.

‘Just how bad has your Fear been getting?’

Shiver forced a smile which Pov instantly saw through. He frowned, and she relented with a sigh.

‘Anxiety, claustrophobia and panic attacks galore. I’m still experiencing hallucinations and nightmares. The usual happy bunch.’

Pov waited, listening expectantly.

‘…the hallucinations have begun to take your forms, old man. I do have to admit, you look quite dash-’

‘Shiver! You need to stop this.’

He exclaimed, reaching his hand out expectantly, beckoning for her to return her popsicles.

‘Your hallucinations are out of control. Most take Tranquility long before they hallucinate at all. My popsicles are just making things worse. Inducing your Fear.’

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Shiver backed away, raising her arms protectively over the popsicles that hung from her mouth. In response, she redoubled her sucking. Pov sighed flatly.

‘I know that you want to conquer your Fear. Trying to desensitise yourself noble and brave, aye. But I won’t sell you another popsicle until you see someone about this.’

Shiver huffed, barely containing her frustration. The last thing she wanted to do was to lash out at him.

‘I don’t have the money to, Pov. Besides, what would they do? Shoot me up with Tranquility? I’m doing this my way.’

She was firm but looked pleadingly at the merchant. He relented, knowing that once Shiver made her mind up about something, she was as persistent and relentless as the cold that she feared.

‘Come and stay with us. You’re living by yourself, out in the frigid cold, that certainly can’t be helping! You know, Marta would love to have you for dinner tonight. What do you say?’

Shiver gave him a tight smile. She had lost count of the amount of times they had offered to give her a home. Yet she looked at his meagre offerings. How hard Marta and Pov had to struggle just to keep themselves afloat.

Imposing on them had never been an option. So, she resorted to her usual refrain.

‘Alright Pov, we’ll see.’

She widened her doe eyes, fluttering her lashes.

‘I don’t suppose you have any food that I could… steal off you? All I have in my cold cave is some moldy bread and chocolate.’

Pov shook his head with a smile, before a mischievous glint entered his eyes.

She knew immediately that she had failed. The statement, meant to garner Pov’s sympathy for a wretched orphan living in a cave had been doomed from the beginning.

‘Oh dear Shiver that sounds terrible. You know, you have this fascinating option.’

He leaned in closer.

‘It’s called gainful employment. An unprecedented concept to you, I’m sure. Mother Ventra came by earlier this morning mentioning that she had a job for you. There’s a new arrival at the orphanage for you to induct.’

He grinned, as the tension in his body eased slightly.

‘You’re going to reaaaally like her from the sounds of it. A stowaway.’

Shiver groaned at the thought of it. Another day, another runaway or orphan to show the ropes. Who else was going to?

‘Alright, alright. I’ll bite. Otherwise, the only thing I’ll be biting tonight will be more moldy bread. See you later Pov. Say hi to Marta for me.’

Pov gave her another bright grin, a devilish glint in his eye.

‘And you stop breaking hearts with that icy gaze of yours. I heard that the smith’s son has a little thing for you. What was his name… Areld?’

Shiver smiled politely, curtseying by pulling at her ragged cloak.

‘An icy gaze won’t be the only thing he’ll get if he’s not careful. You know, I’ve always thought your popsicles were perfectly sized. If he tries anything, I’m sure they’d fit perfectly… right up his-‘

‘Shiver! That is unbecoming of a lady!’

Shiver felt a chill as Marta’s voice boomed from within the tent. Before she could emerge, Shiver was off in a sprint.

The old man guffawed at the sight and Shiver laughed her first true laugh that day.

---

A stowaway shivered in a moldy orphanage. It sounded like the premise of a joke to her.

Just in this case, she was the butt of the joke.

‘You’re welcome to sleep here, next to little Blaze.’

‘I’m not little!’

Blaze, stared up at her with a burning curiosity – true to her name.

Some of the other little ones peeked around a corner, staring at the newcomer. Mother Ventra tutted.

‘Of course you aren’t dearie. Now, here’s a change of clothes. You must’ve been freezing in that ship’s hold. You look exhausted, but I’m afraid that only the young ones get free food and Tranquility. While we’ll give you a roof over your head, you’ll need to take on some work.’

The orphanage’s caretaker gave her a pitying look.

‘Shiver, one of our older orphans will give you the rundown of the city and take you out for your first job.’

The girl gave her an elegant curtsey.

‘You are most gracious mistress- wait already? Do you mean to say that I must begin work immediately? Have you no sympathy? Surely you cou-’

The door to the orphanage slammed open, cutting her sentence short.

Shiver gave the new arrival a once over, pointedly ignoring Mother Ventra. She extended her hand, and Ventra let out a tired sigh, begrudgingly depositing her pay for services in advance.

The stranger cut a diminutive figure, reaching only up to Shiver’s shoulder.

Tangled, dark blonde hair framed her face and poorly concealed startling lavender eyes and shapely, arched eyebrows.

A damp, but beautiful dark cloak hung from her shoulders, barely betraying her shivering.

‘Ah Shiver, just the per-‘

‘Shut it, Mother. Come.’

Shiver wasted no time in striding away, grabbing onto the newcomer’s hand.

‘Wha- Unhand me you-‘

As Shiver pulled the girl outside, Shiver gave the gaping Blaze a wink while slamming the orphanage door shut.

She was ok.

What she had seen that morning was just a hallucination, like usual.

Shiver smiled, the confirmation always appreciated.

A distressed voice cracked, cutting through her brief sense of relief.

‘I won’t stand for this treatment!’

The stranger halted, attempting to wrench her hand weakly from Shiver’s grip. Shiver allowed it, turning to face her. The girl huffed, turning her nose up at her infuriatingly. Before she could continue, Shiver stepped close to her, whispering into her ear.

‘You know, the only things I have left to eat are some moldy bread and chocolate. I’m still reeling from the loss of my popsicle last night.’

The newcomer gaped at Shiver in confusion.

‘P-pardon?’

‘I hear that young lords and ladies who find themselves estranged from their Houses fetch a hefty sum. If they’re reported to their authorities, and promptly returned to their estate.’

The girl paled, her eyes widening. Shiver counted on her fingers, biting her lip and frowning in concentration.

‘So hefty I could buy at least a hundred popsicles if I turned you in. At least a hundred. I could have myself a whole popsicle harem, could you imagine?’

The girl turned deathly pale, the familiar colour of many of Shiver’s hallucinations.

‘I-I’m no lady, what’re you talking about?’

‘No? So that cloak of yours isn’t trimmed in Darksilver? Forgive me, I get a bit loopy from the cold sometimes. It’s a little chilly out.’

They stood tensely in one of Brimstone’s countless alleyways. This one, like many of Brimstone’s other alleyways, was set over one of the city’s ingenious lavaways. You could tell from the orange glow that emanated from in between the city’s cobblestones, sealed with translucent glass-like material that gave you a peak at the lava below.

In other words, it was anything but cold.

The girl backed away from Shiver with terrified eyes, casting furtive glances and scoping out potential escape routes. Shiver just raised an eyebrow at her, placing a hand on her hip.

‘Look, I’m not going to turn you in. It’s likely that bitch Ventra has already made a report to the authorities as we speak.’

The girl looked on the verge of tears. Her shoulders slumped.

‘But- but.. I’m afraid I left some of my belongings back there. On the ship. All of my gold, my luggage.’

‘Anything worth taking has already been taken. Trust me on that.’

The girl stared at the ground, silent. Shiver felt a pang of guilt looking at the defeated girl. She softened. But not too much.

‘Look, I’ll ask around for you later. For the moment, you should take off that cloak, it’s a dead giveaway. We’ll get you some dry clothes and I’ll show you the city.’

The girl looked at her quizzically, the fear and shock slowly giving way to cautious confusion.

‘Thank you, miss… Shiver?’

‘Just Shiver.’

‘Is your Fear… that of the cold?’

‘No, no. Nothing so… pedestrian. I Fear something far more horrifying.’

Shiver gave her a forlorn look. She gazed into her eyes with a thousand-yard stare, as if preoccupied by horrors unimaginable.

The girl drew closer in anticipation, eyes alight with curiosity.

‘I have a Fear of small talk. This conversation is nightmare fuel to me. Less talking. Chop chop!’

The girl stared at her dubiously, mouth agape.

Shiver hid a smirk as she dragged her towards the market.