Arie's POV
The palace, once brimming with life and purpose, now stood cold and empty, its halls abandoned to the royal guards. Flowers, bright against the ice-blue sheen of the coffin’s surface, floated like forgotten promises. Mourners, a sea of muted figures, sat silently on the marble chairs, their eyes lost in the chilling gloom of the hall. Yet, I remained standing, rooted before my father’s casket, the weight of his absence too heavy to bear. A curse, spun from dark magic, had claimed him—its source still shrouded in mystery. If I ever discover who is responsible, I will hunt them down without hesitation.
“All the responsibility is now yours. Are you truly sure you can handle that?” I asked the tall figure beside me, my voice a mix of skepticism and disbelief.
His sky-blue eyes lit up like a flicker of flame in the dark. “Of course. What else would you expect from the Ice Prince?” he replied, his tone as cold and confident as the winds outside. “I’ll rule this kingdom. They’ll remember me as a great king.”
“I’m glad for the new king’s optimism,” I murmured, the words falling from my lips like heavy stones, “but I’m still in shock that our father is gone.”
“I’m not crowned yet, so don’t call me king,” he said, a flicker of something more vulnerable in his voice. “He was overprotective of us, but in the end, he couldn’t protect himself.”
His sky-blue hair fell over his eyes, and for a long, oppressive moment, the silence stretched between us. I closed my eyes, wishing our mother could be here to ease the ache in my brother’s heart. She had vanished long before I could remember her—just a shadow in the distant past, a ghost of a mother I never knew. My brother, the youngest ever to ascend the throne of Glacia, was left to carry this burden alone.
We stepped away from the casket as the guards began their solemn task of moving it to the burial site. The air was thick with cold, and the palace’s oppressive chill clung to me like an old, unwanted companion. I stood in silence, my expression blank, but inside, the loneliness gnawed at me.
A heavy hand settled on my shoulder, warmth spreading through me like a welcome fire. “You look paler today, Ice Princess,” came the deep voice, offering the strange comfort of his touch. “I think you need my warmth.”
“Oh, thanks for noticing,” I said, my tone flat. “But I’m used to our cold temperatures. I’ll be fine.”
“Alright,” he replied, his touch withdrawing as he stepped back. “Just tell me if you need help.”
I nearly forgot the presence of the visitors behind me, my mind lost in the moment. Skadar Facienda, one of the nobles my father had wished for me to marry before his death, stood among them. Ice Captain Sterling, his father, was best friends with my father. Skadar, like my brother, was a double-elemental user, wielding both ice and light powers. He had the ability to warm his palms using internal light energy—a useful talent in this frigid kingdom. Though I was immune to freezing entirely, the cold still seeped into my bones, a persistent ache that no amount of tolerance could erase. His warmth, however, was a rare and welcome relief.
We walked across the patterned diamond floor, following the guards toward the burial grounds. Outside, the chill of the air sliced through me, and the falling snowflakes clung to my hair and cloak, their soft whiteness a stark contrast to the somberness of the occasion. The citizens of Glacia stood outside, their eyes filled with silent sorrow, paying their respects with quiet reverence. My brother walked ahead, holding our father’s framed portrait, while General Dicester flanked me, his daughter, Dorsey, walking at his side.
“Your father was a great king,” my uncle whispered, his voice low and thick with grief. “A caring brother to me. He will always have a place in my memory. And don’t worry, I’ll continue doing my best as a general of this kingdom.”
I glanced at him, my heart heavy with unspoken questions. “Uncle, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask since my father died.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Why not you become king instead of that inexperienced jerk?” Dorsey interjected, her voice laced with sharp bitterness. “The kingdom would be safer in the hands of a veteran.”
“Dorsey, don’t be so harsh on Prince Aerol,” my uncle chided, though his gaze was cold. “He has potential, and besides, only the king’s blood can rule this kingdom. Now, I’m speaking to Princess Arie.”
Dorsey shot me a venomous glance, her disapproval clear. I understood her feelings. She had always been vocal about her doubts regarding my brother’s suitability for the throne.
“I’ve already answered my question, Uncle,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I’m worried it’s too soon for my brother to become king.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“I’ll help him manage the kingdom,” he reassured me, his voice firm. “For now, let’s wish for a peaceful afterlife for my beloved brother.”
We paused as the guards placed the coffin on the cold, chiseled stone floor for a brief moment. I took one last look at my father’s face before they began the process of moving it into the royal ice block—a long, rectangular vault carved from solid diamond where the deceased of our family were entombed. Ice encased the front, and our father’s name would be etched there for all eternity.
Once the task was done, the others teleported away, leaving nothing but a trail of snowflakes in the air—another testament to the magic of the Fruit Masters. Their powers were incredible, the ability to vanish with little more than a flicker of their magic. I felt like an outsider among them. I was the only one in my family without a Magical Fruit, the power I longed for, and the one thing that could make me feel truly alive in this frozen world.
“Condolences for your loss,” a voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see the periwinkle-haired boy standing before me. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Ice Princess, but I have something important to tell you.”
I startled at his sudden appearance. “What is it, Claudius?”
“My mother had a prediction last week,” he said, his expression unreadable. “She foresaw that you would find your Fruit Cube today. I have a list of possible locations where it might be.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Really? Thank you for telling me,” I said, my voice laced with the hope I hadn’t dared to feel. “I’d like to hear more predictions from your mother in the future.”
Claudius nodded solemnly, standing as still as stone. “Of course, Ice Princess.”
With a swirl of dark purple smoke, he disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I hadn’t realized that my brother and I had drifted apart from the noble company. He held my hand and together, we teleported back to the palace, the familiar feeling of ice-cold magic surging around us as we reappeared at the front entrance.
I wasted no time. My mind was racing, filled with a growing sense of urgency. I ran out to the snowy yard and grabbed the iron shovel, digging into the frozen earth.
“What are you doing?” Aerol’s voice broke through the tension.
“Digging up a corpse?” I shot back, my words cutting through the cold air.
He smirked, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I can help you with that.”
I stepped back quickly as he summoned a blast of ice, shattering the ground beneath us. When the ice cleared, I saw it—a sleek, black cube, gleaming like a star in the snow.
“Finally,” he said, voice full of pride. “You’re getting a superpower. Don’t forget who found it for you.”
“But I found it first,” I muttered, feeling a twinge of guilt. “Now I feel worthless for it.” I threw the shovel aside, my hands trembling as I reached down to touch the cube.
I noticed the faint glow pulsing from the cube, revealing a red circle symbol etched into its surface.
“A cherry?” I whispered, confused.
“That’s not the symbol for a cherry,” Aerol said, crouching beside me. “It could be something else.”
“Yeah, it just looks similar. I’ve studied this stuff,” I said, my sky-blue eyes focused intently on the cube. For as long as I could remember, I had dreamt of finding a Fruit Cube. Now that it was here, my excitement was tempered with doubt—what should I do first? What could this power truly offer?
“Summon fruit.”
A cranberry, glowing with a light blue aura, hovered above the cube.
“That’s it?” I said, disappointed. “I thought there’d be some big, dramatic effect, like a tornado or blinding light.”
“Well, I guess literature can be dramatic,” he teased. “Are you just going to stare at it, or are you going to eat it? Who knows? A frog might slither out and eat the cranberry.”
“You’re the frog here,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I took the cranberry in my hand. The moment I bit into it, warmth spread through my body, and energy surged, filling me with a deep, calming chill.
“With that blue aura,” Aerol said, raising an eyebrow, “it’s an ice elemental fruit. What will you name it?”
“I feel chilled,” I said, my mind already working. “Chillberry. That’s what I’ll call it.”
***
"—and the new king of Glacia, is Aerol Glaciouso!"
The Glacians erupted in applause, their cheers resonating through the palace as my uncle placed the crown upon my brother's head. I stood beside my cousin Dorsey Glaciouso, atop the terrace of the ice-castle, the icy wind biting at my skin as the sight below unfurled before me. Sky-blue eyes—those familiar, brilliant eyes—winked at me from the stage below. I returned the gesture, a fleeting connection between us. Above, purple clouds twisted unnaturally, conjured with an ease that sent confetti raining down in shimmering arcs. Yet, as I took it all in, a shift in the air occurred. It wasn’t for me, but for the person standing higher on the terrace, my brother's wink a signal to someone else.
"Claudius' phantom ability again," Dorsey muttered, her tone tinged with disdain. "Your brother is such an immature brat, making him use his power just to summon a useless effect for fun. I don’t trust the phantom element."
I arched an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "Why do you think so?" I asked, the words slipping from me before I could stop them.
Her gaze hardened, like stone, cold and unwavering. "Because it's an extension of inner magic, cast upon a Magical Fruit. Many sorcerers in history have lost themselves to it, gone mad from the very magic that binds them. Whoever killed your father is insane."
I blinked, the weight of her words heavy in the space between us. It's been a day since I've got Chillberry. "Then, the rest of the elements of the Magical Fruit must also be extensions of inner magic, too, right? After all, it's all called a 'Magical Fruit.'"
She met my eyes then, her expression steely. "Yes, but the others lack the corrupting abilities of inner magic—except for the phantom element. It’s different."
The temperature around us seemed to rise suddenly, the air growing thick with discomfort, or perhaps just the weight of the conversation. A voice interrupted, cool and composed, pulling me from my thoughts.
"It's getting hot in here, isn’t it?" The tall, sky-blue-haired boy behind us spoke, his voice cutting through the stillness. For a heartbeat, I thought it was my brother—his hair too, his presence so familiar. But then I noticed the shoulder length of the hair, the sharpness of his features. It was Aice, my cousin.
"Mind your own business, Aice," Dorsey hissed, her words laced with irritation.
His gaze flicked to me, his deep blue eyes sharp. "The Ice King wants y’all to come down for the feast in the banquet hall."
The title—Ice King. It felt strange now, like a weight my brother had suddenly borne, one that seemed miles beyond anything I could ever reach. A shadow behind him, always. I followed my cousins down the terrace steps, my thoughts swirling.
***
Later, in the solitude of my bedchamber, I lay awake. The soft glow of moonlight filtered in through the window, but my thoughts were consumed by what Dorsey had said: "So whoever killed your father is insane." The words haunted me, twisted through my mind like the wind against the frozen glass. Could magic really warp the mind, turn someone into something unrecognizable, make them capable of unspeakable things? No. There had to be a reason, something deeper. The culprit had a purpose, something driving them beyond mere madness.
I stood from the bed, the cold air pressing against me as I approached the window, intent on closing it before sleep claimed me. But as I gazed out at the kingdom, something caught my eye. An eerie glow, an orange fire flickering among the snowy trees, a strange and unnatural presence against the endless white. Without thinking, I grabbed the monocular resting on the side table, bringing it to my eyes for a closer look.
The glow pulsed, and my heart sank. What I saw was nothing short of impossible.
"Fire spread," I murmured, the words tasting bitter on my tongue, "in a cold climate."