Volume IV The White King
ARC III DREAMS OF ANOTHER LIFE
Chapter 13 The Forgotten Spring
Night settled gently over Everfrost. Snow drifted endlessly beyond the crystal windows. Auroras shimmered across northern skies. The frozen kingdom slept beneath silver moonlight. Yet one soul could not find peace. Moon stood alone upon a balcony overlooking the endless white forests. The cold did not touch him. The wind did not disturb him. Tiny fairies of light drifted lazily around his long black hair. Some rested upon his shoulders. Others circled his robes like living stars. Far below, the White King's domain stretched toward the horizon. Beautiful. Silent. Frozen. Moon stared at it for a long time. Then finally closed his eyes. Something hurt. Deeper. A pain buried beneath centuries. A wound older than kingdoms. Older than the Tower of Fangs. Older than his daughters. Older than Toivo. A memory. One he could almost touch. Yet never quite reach. Moon slowly turned away. His fairies followed.And eventually the Celestial God slept.
The dream began with warmth. Not snow. Not ice. Sunlight. Bright golden sunlight. Moon immediately realized something impossible. It was summer. The air smelled of flowers. Birdsong echoed through distant trees. Grass swayed beneath gentle winds. Moon stood in the middle of a vast meadow. Young. Far younger than he should have been. His hair was shorter. Still black. Still beautiful. But falling only to his waist. His robes were simpler. White silk. Silver embroidery. No crown. No divine symbols. No burdens. Only youth. Only freedom. Only sunlight. Moon looked down at his hands. Unscarred. Untouched by sorrow. The sight alone hurt. Because he remembered none of it. Yet somehow he missed it. Laughter echoed nearby. Moon turned. And saw them. Four figures running through tall grass. Young. Carefree. Alive.
Eemil.
Matias.
Nico.
And himself.
The sight froze his heart. For a moment none looked like monsters. None looked like kings. None looked like gods. Only boys. Young men standing at the edge of adulthood. At the edge of destiny. Before everything shattered.
Eemil was the first to appear clearly. Dark Brown hair. green-grey eyes. Pale skin. A wild grin. His elegant black coat hung open carelessly as he sprinted through the grass. A Shadow fox and two shadow wolves chased him playfully. Small. Almost puppy-like. Nothing like the horrors they would someday become. Eemil laughed loudly. The kind of laugh belonging to someone who feared absolutely nothing.
"You're cheating!"
Moon blinked. The voice felt familiar. Painfully familiar. Eemil pointed accusingly toward someone behind him.
"Tell him he's cheating!"
Another voice answered.
Amused.
Dry.
"You only say that when you're losing."
Matias emerged next.
Tall.
Light brown hair.
Blue eyes.
Pale skin.
His smile was effortless.
Warm.
Unlike the frozen grin hidden beneath his future mask. He carried twin sickles slung over one shoulder. Not weapons. Tools. Practice blades. Matias looked human. Entirely human. Moon suddenly found that heartbreaking. Because he knew what Matias would become. What all of them would become.
Then Moon saw him.
Nico.
The dream seemed to pause. As though the world itself held its breath. Nico stood beneath an ancient oak tree.
Blond hair.
Pale skin.
Blue eyes.
Handsome.
Not beautiful like Moon.
Not ethereal.
Not divine.
Human.
Warm.
Real.
His features immediately reminded Moon of Toivo. The resemblance was unmistakable. Yet Nico's face carried a softness Toivo lacked. A quiet gentleness. A calmness. Nico always seemed slightly apart from the others. Not lonely. Just observant. Watching. Listening. Thinking. Moon found himself unable to look away. The dream noticed. Because suddenly Nico looked back. Their eyes met. And the world vanished. The meadow disappeared. The laughter faded. Everything became quiet. Only Moon and Nico remained. Standing beneath the great oak. The wind moved gently through golden leaves overhead. Neither spoke. They didn't need to. The silence felt comfortable. Natural. Ancient. Moon felt something then. A warmth inside his chest. A feeling so unfamiliar it startled him. Not friendship. Not affection. Something deeper. Something frightening. Something precious. Nico stepped closer. Slowly. As though afraid sudden movement might break the moment. Moon remained still. Their eyes never left each other. Blue. And black. Sky. And night. Opposites. Complements. The memory blurred. Yet the feeling remained. Moon knew. Even if the dream refused to show everything. He had loved him. They had loved each other. The realization struck like lightning. Moon woke briefly. His body tensed. His silver eyes opened. The dark room greeted him. Snow drifted outside. The fairies slept nearby. Moon sat silently upon his bed. His heart felt strangely heavy. Because for the first time he knew the truth. Not all of it. Only enough. Enough to hurt. Enough to understand why the White King's gaze felt so familiar. Enough to understand why the Blood Wraith pursued him. Enough to understand why certain memories remained buried. Moon closed his eyes again. The dream immediately returned. This time the meadow was gone. The sky had darkened. Clouds gathered overhead. The grass bent beneath growing winds. Something had changed. The four friends stood together. No longer laughing. No longer smiling. Something terrible had happened. Moon couldn't hear their words. The dream refused. The memory remained broken. Fragmented. Incomplete. Yet he saw enough.
Eemil looked angry.
Matias looked afraid.
Nico looked devastated.
And Moon Moon looked betrayed.
The feeling struck harder than any blade. Because it felt real. Painfully real. As though his heart remembered what his mind could not. The wind howled. The dream cracked. Images flashed. Blood. Tears. A hand reaching forward. A desperate plea. Then a wooden stake. Moon's eyes widened. The image came and went in an instant. Yet he saw enough. A stake piercing white robes. Straight through the heart. Nico holding it. Crying. The dream shattered. Moon awoke. For real this time. Breathing heavily. The room stood silent. Dark. Cold. Snow falling beyond crystal windows. His hand instinctively touched his chest. The place where the phantom pain lingered. Where the memory said he had died. Or nearly died. Moon sat motionless. Fairies slowly awakened around him. Concerned. Curious. Tiny lights gathered around his shoulders. Yet Moon barely noticed, he remembered something. Not clearly. Not fully. But enough. Enough to know that the White King had not merely betrayed him. Enough to know that whatever happened that day it had broken all four of them. And somehow... It had made them gods. Moon slowly rose from his bed. The fairies followed.
Outside snow continued falling over Everfrost. And somewhere within the frozen kingdom the White King sat awake as well. Staring into the darkness. Remembering. Waiting. Just as he always had.
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