Tower of Thorns Tower of Tears Volume 4 chapter 12

 

Volume IV  The White King

ARC II  THE CASTLE OF ICE

Chapter 12  The King of Winter

There are few things in the world more beautiful than falling snow. It softens every wound upon the earth. Mountains become silver giants. Forests become cathedrals of white. Even ruined things seem gentle beneath winter's touch. Snow hides scars. Ice captures light. And for a brief moment, the world appears untouched by grief. But beauty and sadness have always been close companions. For every snowflake that falls, something grows quieter. Roads disappear. Voices fade. Warmth retreats. The world becomes distant. Lonely. There is a particular sorrow found only in winter a silence so vast it seems capable of swallowing entire lives. A frozen lake remembers the laughter that once echoed across its surface. An empty field remembers footsteps long vanished. And a kingdom buried beneath endless snow remembers everyone it has lost.

Everfrost was such a kingdom. Magnificent beyond imagination. Terrible in its loneliness. Its towers glittered like stars trapped within crystal. Its streets shone beneath moonlit frost. Its skies wept snow without end. To the rare travelers, it appeared beautiful. To those who lived there, it felt like a memory that could never move on. For at the heart of Everfrost sat a king who had conquered time itself. A king who could preserve every memory. A king who could command winter. And yet, despite all his power he remained one of the loneliest souls in existence.

The snow never stopped falling in Everfrost. Day. Night. Winter. Summer. It made no difference. Snow drifted endlessly from pale skies above the frozen kingdom. Toivo stood near one of the palace windows watching white flakes descend over crystal rooftops.

The longer he remained within the White King's domain, the less certain he became about the ruler himself. He had expected a tyrant. A monster. An immortal king consumed by obsession. Instead he found someone difficult to hate. That troubled him. Because it would have been easier if the White King were cruel. Easier if he were evil. Easier if Toivo could simply despise him. Yet every day revealed another contradiction. The servants adored him. The Frost Reapers obeyed him with absolute loyalty. Even the snow spirits seemed drawn toward him. And whenever Moon appeared the White King's eyes changed. Not with hatred nor with ambition. But with something far sadder. Something Toivo recognized all too well. Longing.

That afternoon the White King personally invited them deeper into the palace. No guards. No court. Only the king himself. Moon accepted immediately. The short-red haired gothic butler Kev looked suspicious. The tall Nordic warrior Gret looked hungry. Toivo remained uncertain. The White King led them through corridors few others seemed allowed to enter. The deeper they traveled, the quieter the palace became. Eventually they arrived before enormous crystal doors. Ancient runes glowed across the surface. Silver frost spread across the walls. The king touched the doors. They opened silently. Everyone stopped. Even Kev. Before them stretched an enormous chamber. A cathedral of crystal. Thousands upon thousands of crystal pillars filled the room. Some stood no larger than candles. Others towered toward the ceiling like frozen trees. Every crystal glowed softly from within. Blue. Silver. White. Gold. The entire chamber shimmered with countless lights. Toivo stared speechlessly.

"What is this?"

For a moment the White King's expression softened.

"My treasury."

Gret blinked.

"Where is the gold?"

The king actually looked confused.

"Gold?"

"Every king has gold."

Kev sighed.

"Not all kings are dragons."

The White King ignored them. His gaze drifted toward the endless crystal forest.

"These are more valuable."

Moon had gone very still. His fairies floated quietly around him. Almost reverently. The king walked between the crystals. His fingers brushed one gently. Immediately light bloomed inside. And a memory appeared. A young boy laughing. Summer sunlight. A river. The image lasted only seconds before fading.

Toivo froze.

"What was that?"

The White King smiled sadly.

"A memory."

Silence. He continued walking.

"Every crystal contains something precious."

Another crystal glowed. A woman embracing a child. A feast. A farewell. Thousands of lives. Thousands of moments. Preserved forever. The king's voice echoed softly through the chamber.

"People forget."

His hand rested against another crystal.

"I do not."

More memories illuminated the room.

Entire lifetimes sleeping within frozen crystal.

Joy.

Love.

Loss.

Regret.

The White King had preserved them all.

Toivo slowly realized the truth. The king wasn't collecting treasure. He was collecting memories. Saving them. Protecting them. Because he could not bear to lose them. The realization hurt unexpectedly. Because it reminded him of someone else. Moon. The deeper they ventured the older the crystals became. Ancient memories appeared. Forgotten kingdoms. Dead civilizations. People long turned to dust. Entire ages preserved within frozen light. Then Toivo noticed a separate section. Hidden behind a wall of enormous ice pillars. The White King immediately stiffened. Moon noticed too. The king looked away. Too late. Toivo had already seen it. Unlike the others these crystals glowed crimson. Not blue. Not silver. Red. Like blood. Like a wound.

The White King's voice became quieter.

"You should not go there."

That alone guaranteed Gret would.

The giant immediately walked toward the forbidden section.

Kev followed. Mostly out of curiosity. Toivo followed because everyone else was. Moon remained where he stood. Watching silently. The crimson crystals pulsed softly. Almost like beating hearts. Inside them the memories were different. Violent. Broken. Incomplete. One crystal revealed a silver-haired youth laughing beneath summer trees. Another showed four young figures sitting around a campfire. Moon. Eemil. Matias. And Nico. Young. Carefree. Happy. Toivo stared. The image vanished. Another crystal illuminated. A battlefield. Smoke. Blood. Shouting. Then darkness. The memory shattered before it could reveal more.

The White King lowered his eyes.

"Those are damaged."

His voice sounded distant.

"Damaged how?"

For several seconds he didn't answer. Finally

"The memories were taken."

Everyone looked toward him.

"The Blood Wraith."

The name echoed through the chamber.

Moon's expression changed. Only slightly. Yet enough.

The White King continued.

"When I divided myself long ago..."

Silence.

"...I did not separate only power."

Toivo frowned.

"What does that mean?"

The king stared at one crimson crystal. He looked genuinely tired.

"I removed everything that made me weak."

The words felt wrong. Painfully wrong. The White King touched the crystal. It glowed softly. Inside appeared a young fair-haired boy staring at Moon beneath summer sunlight. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. Trust. Affection. Something deeper. Then the image vanished.

The king lowered his hand.

"My regrets."

Another crystal.

"My hopes."

Another.

"My grief."

Another.

"My love."

Silence.

The chamber itself seemed to stop breathing.

Toivo felt suddenly cold.

The White King looked toward the crimson crystals.

"The Blood Wraith inherited those things."

Moon remained silent. The fairies around him dimmed softly.

The White King smiled bitterly.

"I believed removing them would make me stronger."

His gaze drifted upward.

"I became king."

Another smile. Sadder now.

"I became immortal."

A pause.

"I became empty."

The words hung heavily in the air. No one knew how to respond. Even Kev looked uncomfortable. Because suddenly the Blood Wraith made sense. The relentless pursuit. The obsession. The strange emotions. The impossible resemblance. The Blood Wraith wasn't merely a servant. Or a clone. Or a shadow. He was a fragment. A piece of Nico's soul. Everything the White King had discarded. Everything he could not bear to carry. Everything he still missed. 

Much later after Gret and Kev wandered off Toivo remained behind. The crystal chamber was quiet. Snowlight filtered through distant windows. The White King stood alone among his memories. A solitary figure surrounded by centuries. Toivo looked around the endless crystal forest.

Then finally asked:

"Are you lonely?"

The question escaped before he could stop it. The White King looked surprised. Then for the first time he laughed. Not like a king nor like an immortal. Just a tired man.

"Aren't we all?"

The answer lingered. Simple. Honest. Painful. Toivo suddenly understood something. The White King wasn't preserving memories because he loved the past. He preserved them because he feared forgetting. Because forgetting meant losing people forever. Because memories were all he had left. And for centuries one memory had remained brighter than all the others. Moon. The Celestial God. The one person the King of Winter had never truly stopped waiting for. Outside snow continued falling over Everfrost. And within the crystal cathedral the memories of countless lives glowed softly in the darkness. Like stars trapped within ice. Waiting. Just as their king had waited. For far too long.