Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 5 Chapter 31

"Well I looked for you in everyone

 I thought I'd search the world in vain 

Now you look at me and the search is done"

 - Just A Smile, Barbie Almabis

 

Chapter 31 The White King Is Born

Ice and snow, frost and endless winter. His heart slowly freezing, his mind the image repeats its self causing him pain and suffering. He wanted to make it all go away, freeze the happy moments and burry the painful feelings in an avalanche of snow. Nico was suffering, No one warned him love would feel so good and addicting, and no one warned him love can be so painful and torturous.  The world held its breath. Not metaphorically. Not poetically. Truly. As though the sky itself had forgotten how to move. As though the wind no longer remembered its purpose. As though every living thing beneath the heavens had paused for a single terrible moment. Waiting. Listening. Watching. Frost spread as the meadow stood frozen in silence. Not winter's silence. Not peace. Not tranquillity. The silence that follows tragedy. The silence left behind when something precious has been broken beyond repair. Moon lay among the flowers. His white robes spread around him like fallen wings. Silver-red blood stained the grass beneath his body. Tiny glowing fairies circled him in frantic spirals. Their usual laughter had vanished. Now they cried. Thousands of tiny voices. Tiny bells cracking beneath sorrow. Tiny stars mourning their moon. The sound filled the meadow. Soft. Heartbreaking. Endless. Nico knelt. He could not move. Could not breathe. Could not think. The world had become distant. Blurred. Muted. As though he were standing underwater. As though reality itself had retreated somewhere far away. His eyes remained fixed on Moon. Only Moon. Nothing else existed. Not Eemil. Not Matias. Not the battle royale. Not the Moon Gods. Not the future. Only him. Only the celestial lying motionless among the flowers. Only the impossible reality that Moon was dying. Because of him. Nico's hands trembled violently. The wooden stake still lay nearby. Simple. Ordinary. A piece of wood. Nothing more. And yet it had accomplished what armies could not. What monsters could not. What gods perhaps could not. It had broken Moon's heart. And Nico's. The realization felt like being skinned alive. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat hurt. Every memory hurt. Moon's smile. Moon's laughter. Moon's voice. Moon saying his name. Each memory became a blade. One after another. Again. Again. Again. Until Nico thought he might simply collapse beneath the weight of them. Moon stirred weakly. The movement was small. Almost imperceptible. Yet Nico noticed immediately. His entire body jerked forward. Hope.Terrible hope. The cruelest emotion of all. Moon's dark eyes opened slightly. Beautiful eyes. Even now. Even while fading. Even while dying. They found Nico instantly. As they always did. The celestial looked confused. Tired. Heartbroken. Yet somehow there was still kindness in his gaze. Still concern. Still love. The sight nearly killed him. This pain is all consuming Nico.

Moon's lips parted. Silver-red blood touched the corner of his mouth.

"Nico..."

The whisper was barely audible. Yet Nico heard every syllable. The sound shattered something inside him. Because Moon was not angry. Not hateful. Not frightened. He still said Nico's name the same way. The same warmth. The same affection. The same trust. As though nothing had changed. As though betrayal did not exist. As though Nico had not just destroyed everything. A tear slipped down Nico's face. Then another. Then another. Until he could no longer see. His vision blurred beneath grief. The pain in his heart almost unbearable, the pain of hurting Moon is like stabbing himself. Moon was his heart, what has he done. The world dissolved into silver and white. And suddenly he was afraid. Not of death. Not of punishment. Not of consequences. He was afraid of losing Moon. The fear struck him harder than any wound. Harder than any blade. Harder than any nightmare. The thought appeared inside his mind. Simple. Brutal. Absolute.

Moon is going to disappear.

The realization froze his blood. His breathing stopped. His heart stopped. For one impossible second everything stopped. Then something broke. Deep inside him. Far deeper than flesh. Far deeper than bone. Something ancient. Something fundamental. Something that had always existed. Waiting. Sleeping. Watching. The sky darkened. Clouds appeared where none had existed before. The fairies froze. The flowers bent. The wind vanished. Nature recognized what was happening. And recoiled. Nico lowered his head. A single snowflake landed upon his hand. He stared at it. Confused. The meadow was warm. Summer still ruled the world. Yet snow continued falling. One flake. Then two. Then ten. Then hundreds. The air grew colder.The flowers stiffened. Grass whitened. The lake beside the meadow trembled. Then froze.

Ice spread across its surface in intricate silver patterns. Beautiful. Terrible. Alive. Nico looked down at his trembling hands. The skin had become pale. Almost translucent. The veins beneath glowed faintly silver. Frost crawled across his fingers. Across his wrists. Across his arms. The cold wasn't hurting him. It was becoming him. The future White King closed his eyes. And grief answered. The snowstorm exploded. The heavens split open. Winter descended. Not gradually. Not naturally. Violently. As though an entire season had been born screaming. Snow erupted across the landscape. The meadow vanished beneath white. Trees crystallized instantly. Branches became glass. Leaves became ice. The lake shattered beneath expanding frost. Mountains groaned. Rivers froze. Entire forests transformed. Winter raced across the land like a living thing. Like a predator. Like grief given form.

 Nico screamed. The sound echoed across creation. The cry of a broken heart. The cry of a dying soul. The cry of someone losing everything.The world answered. Glaciers erupted from the earth. Towering walls of crystal ice pierced the heavens. Frozen mountains rose where none had existed. Valleys disappeared beneath snow. Forests vanished beneath frost. An entire kingdom emerged. Born from heartbreak. Born from despair. Born from love twisted into sorrow. Everfrost. The first kingdom of winter. The first kingdom of the White King. Nico remained kneeling. Snow buried his shoulders. His blond hair slowly lost its color. Gold faded into silver. Silver faded into white. Each strand transformed beneath moonless skies. Until nothing remained of the boy he once was. Only winter. Only ice. Only grief. When he finally looked up his blue eyes had changed. Paler. Colder. Beautiful. Terrifying. The eyes of a king. The eyes of a god. The eyes of someone who had lost everything. And at the center of the storm Moon remained. Small. Fragile. Dying. The celestial looked impossibly distant now. As though he already belonged to another world. Nico reached toward him. Desperately. Powerlessly. His hand never reached. Because no amount of winter could stop what had already happened. No amount of power could undo betrayal. No amount of grief could restore innocence. The White King had been born. And he would spend centuries learning a terrible truth. Some wounds never heal. Some losses never fade. And some winters never truly end. Above the newborn kingdom of Everfrost snow continued falling. Silent. Endless. Beautiful. Like the tears Nico no longer had the strength to cry.

Everfrost Awakens

The scream did not end. It continued long after Nico's voice had broken. Long after the sound should have faded. Long after the sky itself should have swallowed it. The scream remained. Not in the air. In the world. In the mountains. In the rivers. In the forests. In the bones of the earth itself. Because grief on that scale was no longer merely an emotion. It had become a force of nature. And nature listened. The meadow vanished. Not all at once,  Not with violence. Not with destruction. Something far worse. Something quieter. Something final. The way a dying heartbeat slowly fades into silence. The way summer yields to autumn. The way warmth abandons a room after the fire dies.

Nico's winter and frost was spreading far and wide. The flowers froze first. Thousands of blossoms that had bloomed around Moon's fallen body. Wildflowers of gold and crimson. Bluebells. White lilies. Silver roses. Every petal crystallized. Tiny veins of frost spread through them like silver tears. Their colors remained beautiful. Preserved. Untouched. Perfect. Yet dead. Forever trapped between life and death. A garden imprisoned in ice. The grass followed. Green faded into white.Blades became crystal needles. The wind touched them. And they chimed softly. Like countless tiny bells mourning the end of summer. The lake groaned. A deep sound. Ancient. Painful. The water resisted. For a moment.Just a moment. Then surrendered. Ice spread across its surface. Silver-white. Smooth as polished glass. The freezing accelerated. Outward. Farther. Farther. Farther still.The entire lake became a mirror reflecting a broken sky.

Nico stood at its center. Frost spreading from and through him Motionless. Snow gathered in his hair. His shoulders. His eyelashes. Yet none of it melted. Nothing could melt anymore. His transformation continued. Slowly. Beautifully. Terribly. His blond hair lost its warmth first. Every golden strand faded. Silver spread through it. Then white. Pure white. Not the white of paper. Not the white of clouds. The white of untouched snow beneath moonlight. The white of glaciers older than kingdoms. The white of winter itself. The wind lifted his hair. It flowed around him like frozen silk. Like pale banners mourning a fallen king. His eyes changed next. The brilliant blue remained. Yet something disappeared from them. Something human. Something warm. The blue deepened. Paled. Became colder. Like sunlight trapped beneath ancient ice. Beautiful. Empty. Heartbreaking. His skin became almost translucent. Marble pale. Moonlit.The sort of beauty statues possessed. Perfect. Untouchable. Dead. Even Nico's clothes turning magically and irrationally white 

Eemil watched silently. Even he felt uneasy now. Because Nico no longer looked like a boy. He looked like a concept. An idea. A force. Winter itself had chosen a king.  And it loved him. The snowstorm intensified. The sky darkened. Clouds gathered from every horizon. Drawn toward Nico like worshippers approaching a god. Lightning flashed inside them. Silver. Blue. White. No thunder followed. Only silence.

Then the first mountain froze. Miles away.Far beyond the meadow. Far beyond the lake. A distant peak vanished beneath ice. Forests disappeared. Valleys crystallized. Entire rivers stopped flowing. Animals fled.Birds abandoned nests.Wolves howled.  Bears retreated into caves. Everything alive felt it. The arrival of something ancient. Something inevitable. Winter marched. Not as weather. As a kingdom. The glaciers rose from the earth. Massive walls of ice erupted upward. Thousands of feet high. Towering cathedrals of crystal. Frozen palaces built by grief. The land reshaped itself.Mountains bent. Valleys deepened. Lakes froze solid. Forests became silver-white labyrinths. Snow covered everything. Then covered it again. Then again. Layer upon layer. Like the world desperately trying to bury a memory too painful to remember. Nico remained standing. Watching.Not because he commanded it. Not because he desired it. Because he couldn't stop it. His sorrow had become geography. His heartbreak had become climate. Far away. The first inhabitants would someday call it Everfrost. A beautiful name. A terrible name. Because nothing ended there. Nothing healed there. Nothing moved forward there. Everything remained. Forever. Just like Nico's heart. The irony was cruel. Because Everfrost looked pure. Beautiful. Pristine.

The snow sparkled like diamonds. The glaciers glowed beneath moonlight. Ice cliffs shimmered blue and silver. Frozen forests resembled crystal sculptures crafted by celestial hands. Visitors would someday call it magnificent. A paradise of winter. A kingdom carved from dreams. They would never understand the truth. Everfrost was not built from snow. It was built from regret. Every glacier contained a memory. Every snowfall carried grief. Every frozen river whispered Moon's name. Because Nico could not let go. He replayed everything. Again. And again. And again. Moon laughing beside a campfire. Moon gathering berries. Moon smiling at him. Moon saying:

"I know."

Those two words echoed endlessly. They haunted every frozen valley. Every ice-covered mountain. Every storm. Because Moon had known. Known he was loved. Known Nico's heart belonged to him. Known everything. And still trusted him. The trust hurt more than the betrayal. The forgiveness hurt more than the wound. Because hatred would have been easier. Anger would have been easier. A curse would have been easier. Instead Moon had looked at him with love. Even while dying.Even after the stake. Even after everything. And Nico could never escape that. The snow fell harder. The sky disappeared. The world became white. Pure. Endless Silent. A color often associated with innocence. With purity.With new beginnings. Yet in Everfrost white became the color of mourning.  The color of things frozen before they could grow. The color of a future that would never happen. Because true love had come to Nico. Perhaps only once. Perhaps the only time it ever would. And he destroyed it with his own hands.The cruelest tragedies are rarely accidents. They are choices. A single decision. A single moment. A single mistake. And then a lifetime spent wishing you could return. But winter never goes backward. Ice never unfreezes by regret alone. A shattered heart never returns to what it was. Nico finally lowered himself to his knees. Snow gathered around him immediately. Almost affectionately. Like loyal servants surrounding their king.

His new kingdom stretched endlessly beyond the horizon. Frozen mountains. Frozen forests. Frozen rivers. Frozen skies. A masterpiece. A monument. A warning. The White King looked upon Everfrost. And saw only one thing. An empty throne beside him. A place where Moon should have been. And somewhere deep within the newborn kingdom beneath endless snow the first true lesson of Everfrost was born. Love can warm a heart. Love can save a soul. Love can transform the world. But when love is betrayed when trust is broken when regret arrives too late Love can also freeze forever. And thus Everfrost spread across the north. A kingdom of snow. A kingdom of ice. A kingdom of beauty. A kingdom of sorrow. The kingdom of the White King. Who possessed immortality. Power. Divinity. A throne. An empire.

And would spend centuries discovering that none of those things could replace the one person he truly wanted beside him.

Far in the future a young blond warrior named Toivo would one day walk through those frozen lands. He would meet the White King. He would see the endless snow. He would wonder why winter felt so sad. And he would never realize that every snowflake falling from Everfrost was born from the tears of a boy who once loved Moon too much.