The memory came to Kael as the Scoria cut through the night, the volcanic thrusters a low, steady roar beneath his feet. The frozen winds of the upper atmosphere screeched against the hull, but in his mind, he was fourteen again, feeling a different kind of cold—the bitter, unwelcoming chill of the Cryalis palace.
He and Thalor, both barely teenagers, had been dragged to the "Summit of Heirs" in the Ice Empire's capital, a glittering, oppressive city of carved ice and eternal twilight. It was meant to foster peace among the future rulers of Artheria. To Kael, it felt like a particularly elegant prison.
"The air here tastes like broken glass," Kael muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his formal Vulmir attire—a stiff, crimson jacket with black embroidery that felt like a cage. He glared at a floating chandelier made of captured lightning, a signature of the Wind Empire's craftsmanship. "And everything is too quiet. It's unnatural."
Thalor, ever the calm one, stood beside him, looking far more at ease in his silvery-blue robes. "It's called tranquility, Kael. You should try it. It doesn't involve setting anything on fire."
"They should try a good forge," Kael shot back. "It'd melt the stick out of their—"
"His Royal Highness, Prince Caelum of Solvane," a steward announced, his voice echoing in the vast, icy hall.
They all turned. Caelum, a year younger than Kael, already carried himself with an unnerving stillness. His silver hair seemed to draw the faint light in the room, and his golden eyes swept over the other heirs with a dispassionate curiosity that made Kael's skin prickle. Even then, he was the "special" one, whispered about in reverent tones.
Next came the Princess of the Wind Empire, Sylphie—a wisp of a girl with hair like white gossamer and restless, darting eyes that never seemed to settle on one thing for long. She gave a giggling, perfunctory curtsy before flitting over to examine the lightning chandelier.
Then, the Prince of the Earth Empire, Brenn. A stout, serious boy with hair the color of rich soil and hands that were already calloused. He nodded a silent, solid greeting to Kael and Thalor, an acknowledgment of the two empires that understood the strength of the ground, even if Vulmir's ground was far more volatile.
The air in the room shifted subtly, growing warmer, sweeter. Princess Ilyndra of Eldara entered, a vision of nascent grace at sixteen. Her hair was a cascade of living green, and a smile played on her lips that was both kind and cunning. She was the eldest, and she carried the title with an effortless authority. She moved first to Caelum, offering a respectful nod, then to Kael and Thalor.
"Prince Kael," she said, her voice like leaves rustling. "I hope the cold isn't too much for you. We can't all be blessed with such… dramatic climate." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
Kael, uncharacteristically flustered, managed a grunt. "It's fine." Ilyndra was beautiful, powerful, and intimidating. She felt like a force of nature, and for a moment, he understood the allure of the Greenery Spirit.
And then, the final heir arrived.
The great doors of frosted crystal opened once more, and a hush fell, deeper than before. Princess Seraphyne of Cryalis entered, and for Kael, the world seemed to slow.
She was their age, fourteen, but seemed carved from the same ancient ice as her palace. Her hair was the color of moonlight on fresh snow, so pale it was almost silver, falling straight and long around a face of sharp, delicate features. Her eyes were the shade of a winter sky just before a storm—a pale, piercing grey-blue. She wore a gown of simple white, and she did not smile.
Where Ilyndra was life and warmth, Seraphyne was stillness and cold. Where Caelum was golden arrogance, she was silver silence. She didn't look at any of them, her gaze fixed on some distant point ahead as she took her place. She was utterly alone in a room full of the most powerful children in the world.
"The Ice Princess," Thalor murmured beside Kael, his voice filled with a strange pity. "They say she hasn't spoken a word since the Frost-Song Festival last year. No one knows why."
Kael didn't reply. He couldn't look away. He saw the way the other heirs glanced at her—Caelum with analytical interest, Ilyndra with a sort of botanical curiosity, Brenn with indifference, and Sylphie with nervous avoidance. She was a statue in her own home.
The formal greetings were a tedious affair. The adults made speeches about unity and the sacred cycle of the dragon spirits. Kael fidgeted, Thalor listened politely, and Caelum absorbed it all as if it were his divine right.
During a brief recess, the heirs were left to mingle in a solarium filled with frozen, enchanted flowers that bloomed in crystalline silence. The cliques formed instantly. Caelum stood alone, a silent sun. Ilyndra gently drew the nervous Sylphie into conversation. Brenn examined the structural integrity of an ice-sculpted pillar.
Kael found himself standing near Seraphyne, who was looking out a vast window at the endless glacial plains. Thalor was a step behind him, a silent anchor.
"Your home is… very cold," Kael said, the words stumbling out of his mouth, feeling incredibly stupid the moment he said them.
Seraphyne didn't turn. She gave no indication she had even heard him.
Thalor placed a calming hand on Kael's arm, but Kael, fueled by a mix of embarrassment and Vulmir stubbornness, took a step closer.
"I said, it's cold," he repeated, his voice louder.
This time, she slowly turned her head. Those storm-grey eyes met his, and they were empty. Not hostile, not sad—just utterly, profoundly empty. It was a look that saw straight through his bravado and found nothing worth engaging with. It was more dismissive than any insult.
Heat prickled at the back of Kael's neck. Rejection, especially such a silent, absolute one, was a fuel to his fire.
"Fine," he muttered, turning away. "Be a statue."
It was then that Caelum approached her. He didn't bother with small talk.
"The Ice Dragon will awaken soon,Princess," Caelum stated, his voice clear and carrying. "It will seek you. It is the way of things. You must be ready to accept your role in the balance."
Seraphyne's eyes flickered towards him, and for the first time, a flicker of emotion showed—a spark of defiance, quickly smothered.
"And what if the balance is wrong?" The voice was so quiet it was almost carried away by the wind outside, but it was hers. It was melodic and cold, like water freezing in a deep well.
Caelum's perfect brow furrowed slightly. "The balance is divine. It is not wrong. It simply is."
He reached out, not to touch her, but to indicate the world outside. "Your destiny is here, in the ice. As mine is with all the elements."
It was the arrogance, the absolute certainty, that did it. Kael saw Seraphyne's hands, which had been clasped so still at her sides, curl into tiny, trembling fists. He saw the shame and the anger warring in her eyes, and something in him rebelled. Caelum was talking to her like she was a missing piece in his grand design, not a person.
"Maybe the dragon will get lost," Kael said, stepping forward, inserting himself between Caelum and Seraphyne. "Maybe it'll take one look at this frozen wasteland and decide it prefers the beach."
Caelum's golden eyes narrowed. "This does not concern you, Kael."
"Everything concerns me when you're being a bore, Caelum," Kael shot back, grinning. "You're upsetting our host. Isn't he, Thalor?"
Thalor, ever the diplomat, gave a placating smile. "Perhaps we should discuss something less… deterministic. The architecture is truly remarkable."
But the damage was done. Caelum's focus was now fully on Kael. A faint, golden aura seemed to shimmer around him. "You mock what you cannot comprehend. The fire in you is chaos. The spirits demand order."
"And I demand you stop lecturing the one person in this room who actually belongs here," Kael retorted, his own temper rising. The air around him grew noticeably warmer, and a few of the frozen flowers near him began to weep tiny droplets.
The two princes stood toe-to-toe, fire and nascent divinity crackling in the space between them.
And then, it happened.
A voice, clear and sharp, cut through the tension.
"Stop."
It was Seraphyne.
Both boys turned to her. And they saw it.
A light. Not the harsh, demanding gold of Caelum's aura, nor the warm, living green of Ilyndra's power. This was a pure, silvery-white light. It emanated from her, from the center of her chest. It was faint, barely a glow, but it was undeniable. It pulsed once, softly, and in that pulse, Kael felt not heat, not cold, but a sudden, startling clarity. For a split second, all his anger evaporated, replaced by a pure, calm understanding of the scene: two boys fighting, using her as their excuse.
The light faded as quickly as it came. The frozen flowers that had begun to melt were now perfectly still again, their crystalline petals seeming sharper, more defined.
Caelum stared, his arrogance replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock. "That… that is not ice," he whispered.
Seraphyne looked as startled as any of them. She looked down at her own hands, then back at Caelum and Kael, her grey eyes wide. In them, the emptiness was gone, replaced by confusion, fear, and a dawning, terrifying wonder.
Without another word, she turned and fled from the solarium, her white dress vanishing into the shadows of the corridor.
The silence she left behind was heavier than any that had come before.
Ilyndra was watching the doorway with intense, curious eyes. Brenn looked baffled. Sylphie looked frightened.
Caelum finally tore his gaze from where Seraphyne had been, his eyes finding Kael's. The shock had hardened into something colder, more calculating. "What did you do?" he accused, though it was clear he had no idea what had just happened either.
Kael, his heart hammering in his chest, managed a shaky, triumphant grin. "I guess I'm not the only one with a few surprises, brother."
He looked at Thalor, who wore an expression of profound contemplation. In that moment, Kael knew. The girl with the silent sorrow and the eyes of a winter storm was anything but ordinary. She was a mystery. She was rebellion. And as he stood there in the echoing silence, the heat of his own spirit humming in his veins, Prince Kael of Vulmir felt the first, undeniable pull of a fascination that would outlast prophecies and wars.
She wasn't just the Ice Princess. She was the girl who glowed.