Archive of Our Own

Castle Winter had stood for three hundred years and as far as anyone could predict, it would stand for three hundred more. It was a beautiful, intricate, sprawling structure of stonework and stained glass, a collaboration between the best architects, masons, and craftsmen of the kingdom. The land surrounding it just as picturesque as the building itself. Just looking at it made you feel powerful and grand. The royal family has always called Castle Winter their home, and now as William Wisp looked up at the towers that stretched into the sky, he realized he would soon be among them.

He had grown up in the tiny hamlet of Deadwood. Far from here, insignificant. He never thought he would even see the palace, much less live there. But, his parents had scraped together enough money to send him to the top mage’s academy, and he passed the entrance exam and every exam following with flying colors, graduating top of his class. They said he had a natural gift, an intuitive understanding of the magic that flowed through the veins of their world. So here he was, standing in front of the place no one from his family had laid eyes on before, the newly appointed apprentice to the royal mage himself
.
He had to admit he had pinched himself a few times on the carriage ride there, just to make sure he hadn’t dreamed the whole ordeal.
Archmage Mallard Conway stood just behind him, his bony white hand resting on William’s trembling shoulder. They hadn’t spoken much during the journey once the normal small talk had dried up, William was a guarded person, even for someone he had been looking up to for years. Mal intimidated him with the way he looked at him like he had so much potential, how he swore to teach him everything he knew. Told him he could be something great.

It felt like a lie.

It felt like he shouldn’t be here.

But here he was all the same.

He followed Mal down a winding path paved with large, flat stones that snaked through the gardens. Aside from what had been roughly hacked away to keep the path clear, the bushes and vines were overgrown, bursting with large flowers that thickly perfumed the air. Bees lazily buzzing between the blooms. Roses and hydrangeas and peonies that grew taller than a man filled the space between the palace, its outer wall, and the dense forest beyond. Sometimes, he could catch a glance of a broken statue or an algae-choked fountain. Whoever once tended these gardens must be long gone.

“Now, William,” Mal said from a few feet ahead of him. “There’s a few rules that must be set in place before you’re allowed to roam free.”

William said nothing. Rules, right. Probably a reasonable thing. William still wasn’t quite used to life as someone of high status. There were rules and customs, he needed to follow them.

“I will wake you at sunrise every morning.” He began, “Then we will share a breakfast and begin our training. That will continue until noon, when our luncheon will be served, after that I will retreat into my private study, where you are not to disturb me unless it is very important. Understand?”

William nodded and made a small noise of approval.

“As for what you do during that time, It does not matter to me, but the king himself has his rules. You may not enter anyone’s private quarters without explicit permission, obviously, and you must not, under any circumstances enter the northern wing.”

“The northern wing?” He blurted, “Why?”

“I couldn’t say, it was closed off eight years ago. No one’s been allowed in since. I do not know what’s in there, but I’m not fond of potentially facing the king’s wrath trying to find out. I assume you aren’t either.”
He nodded briskly. He hadn’t met the king yet, but he wasn’t the social type from what he could gather, neither was he kind or forgiving.

“Good.” He said, approaching an intricately carved maroon door at the end of the path, “Well, here we are, the eastern tower. This will be your home and your workspace for the rest of your life. If all goes well that is.”

The tower was tall, its stone bricks dripping with ivy. There were worryingly few windows, only two from what he could see, one about two-thirds of the way up, looking into Mal’s study, and one nestled in the conical roof, where William was told his room was located.

It looked like something out of a fairytale.

Mal opened his silver pocket watch. “Ah, look at the time. I have a meeting with the King. Feel free to explore the grounds, your bags have already been delivered to your room. I'll meet with you in a couple of hours, how does that sound?”

William slowly nodded as Mal disappeared into the castle. Not having much else to do, he decided to take Mal’s advice and explore.

The castle grounds were just as massive as he thought. The surrounding woods used for hunting, the fields to the south for farming, and the gardens simply for looking pretty. Somewhat near the Eastern Tower, there was a stable. Horses stamped their hooves nervously as he approached, wary of the stranger entering their home. He turned to a pretty black gelding in the stable nearest to the door and held out a hand for it to inspect. He'd never been the most graceful with horses in his hometown, in fact for much of his life he was terrified to ride one, but he felt he should get over it and learn during his time here, and getting the horses to like him was probably a start.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Said a chipper voice from behind him, and William only just managed to jerk his hand away before the horse’s teeth snapped closed around the air his fingers had been.

He yelped and whipped his head around to look at the stranger. A boy about his age with a shock of vibrant red hair, he wore the simple clothes you'd expect from a stablehand and grinned with all his teeth. He offered William a callused hand and shook it vigorously.

“The name's Dakota, Dakota Cole, and that's Bobo, he's a biter.”

“I can see that.” He muttered, “William Wisp.
”
“Ohh, you're the new mage! I thought you looked too scrawny to be a knight.” Dakota commented, William made a hurt expression, but he decided to not take it personally.

“Hey, Virion!” Dakota shouted towards the back of the stables, “The new mage is here!” A few stalls down, a tall boy with violet hair fed an apple to an elegant white horse, he smiled in their direction. As he drew closer William realized he was an elf, odd to see so far from the Fauna border, but William had known a few elves at the academy, so he didn't find it too strange.

William smiled at him, and Virion twisted his tail into a loop and bowed, a sign of respect.

“Welcome to the Winter Palace.” He said with a small smile. “Sir Virion Sol, at your service.”

“You're a Knight then?” William asked.

“As of about a year ago.” There was a glimmer of pride in his amber eyes.

William nodded. “Congratulations. Any interesting stories so far?”

Virion shrugged, slightly lifting the heavy fabric of his cape as he did so. “I caught a scullery boy stealing food a few months ago, but I let him go. Not much happens here, the kingdom’s at peace, and the king is well-liked enough. Not much to fight over. Which makes me wonder why the Archmage would feel the need to hire an apprentice. He’s always struck me as a loner, so it must have been out of necessity, but what?”

“It’s because he’s so old,” Dakota said with a mischievous smirk. “He couldn’t figure out how to make an elixir of immortality so he hired wizard boy here to replace him once he turns to dust.”

William chuckled. “I uh- I don’t think that’s it. He told me he’s been working on a special project for the king for years now. He’s been so engrossed in it that he’s been neglecting the more mundane work he has to do around the palace, so that’s where I come in.” He grimaced, “It’s going to be a whole lot of redrawing protection sigils and casting small charms to help out the cleaning staff, but at least it’s more useful work than a lot of what we had to do at the academy. Of course, the Archmage is going to teach me what he knows, however. I will replace him one day, if all goes to plan.”

“Yeah, if all goes to plan.” Dakota repeated, leaning in to speak with Virion, “Are we going to tell him what happened to the last apprentice?”

William knitted his eyebrows together. “What happened to the last apprentice?” He asked, immediately regretting it as he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Horrible death, probably.

“That’s the thing.” Dakota said, switching to a whisper that was still rather loud, “No one knows, she just disappeared two years ago without a trace.”

Virion frowned. “She was pretty nice, you know, I have to say I miss her.”

“That’s um-” William stammered, “That’s worrying.”

“Ah don’t worry, wizard boy.” Dakota slung an arm around William’s shoulder, “Me and Virion will protect you, isn’t that right?”

Virion nodded briskly and it did make William feel a little more at ease. It seems he already had friends here in this strange and grand palace he now has to call his home. And that meant something, didn’t it?

Walking back to the Eastern tower, William mostly watched his feet as he balanced on the stones. Tap tap tap. He skipped across them. Childish, really, but it made him smile and that was reason enough. Something made him look up, however, a shiver in his spine. Someone was watching him.

He scanned the many windows of the palace, searching for a pair of eyes trained on him, when he spotted a girl he hadn’t seen before looking out the window of a tower, not unlike the one he now lived in. They locked eyes. He couldn’t make her out clearly from the distance, but he could see her silver hair drifting in the breeze. For a moment, they both sat there, taking in each other’s presence. He was about to call out, ask for her name, but before he could, the mysterious girl closed the shutters and rushed away. It was only then that William realized the tower he was looking at was located in the North wing. The forbidden North wing. Where no one, not even the Archmage, perhaps not even the King, was allowed to go.

William paced feverishly around his quarters, wearing a path into the patterned rug. The magpie, Marbles, as the letter had called her, had already left. This didn’t make sense. The princess, alive after all these years, trapped in the northern wing of the palace. How had no one who lived here noticed? Did they just brush her off as a trick of the light? A dead girl had written him a letter, and his hands trembled as he tried to think of a response.

What could he write? No, he needed to see her face to know she was real. That he wasn’t losing his mind in this palace so far from home. But to speak to her in person meant breaking one of the few rules he was given. If the king found out, he would be fired, likely imprisoned, or maybe even executed.

Fuck the king. This was a mystery that needed solving, and if that really was the princess who had been trapped in those lonely rooms for so many years, then it was the least he could do to give her some company. Maybe he could even figure out a way to set her free. William selected one of his spellbooks from the shelf above his desk and flipped to a page he only gave cursory glances to before.

A potion of invisibility, grants the user the ability to completely remove themselves from the senses of anyone they desire for one hour. A week’s brewing time, and some expensive components, but nothing he didn’t have access to here. Perfect.

He uncapped a dip pen and coated its tip in ink, scribbling the needed runes onto a slip of imbued paper. He set it alight, and the flame burned a cool white as it crawled up the page, dropping the ashes into a small iron cauldron. With a smile, he began his work.

The silvery liquid slid ice-cold and bitter down William’s throat as he drained the contents of the crystal vial. He’d definitely had better-tasting potions. The taste still lingered on his tongue as he donned his wool cloak and stepped out of his quarters into the palace. The heels of his boots rang down the hall in a manner that didn’t make him feel very hidden, and while he knew the potion couldn’t hide him from his own senses, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

A maid was walking down the hall, carrying a sloshing bucket of soapy water as she delicately tried not to spill a drop.

Hide me. William thought, I am not and was never here.

Sure enough, she didn’t notice him, even when he flailed his arms and called for her attention, she didn’t so much as give him a passing glance. Perfect, now his espionage could begin.

The palace wasn’t very easy to navigate. Even spending the better part of a week exploring hadn’t given him much of a sense of direction. He tried his best to scope out the location of the North Wing earlier without being too suspicious. So, he retraced his steps, reflexively holding his breath when a pair of guards marched past or he spotted the trailing dress of a noble disappear around a corner. They never saw him. William allowed himself an ounce of pride. Executing a complex potion perfectly on his first try, this is why his professors called him a prodigy.

It wasn’t long before William found himself before the great oak door that hid the North Wing from view. Huge, guarded, and locked. Luckily, Deadwood was an unsavory enough town that William picked up lockpicking almost as soon as he learned how to write. He pulled the thin steel tools from his pocket and got to work tapping away at the pins inside the lock, keeping one eye trained over his shoulder at the guards. They were sleeping, the fools, and they couldn’t hear him. But, he worried they would wake as soon as he got the damn door open, it was just so heavy.
Something inside the lock clicked into place, and the door swung open with a low creak. William flinched, but the guards didn’t stir. Thank the gods. Quickly as he could manage, he gathered up his tools and slipped into the North Wing.

A burst of cold, stale air hit him as he closed the door behind him and let down his guard. The wing looked frozen in time, untouched. A thick layer of dust covered the paintings and tapestries and there were no servants here to clean them. William nearly tripped over an empty plate on the ground by a small, hidden door. The picked clean remains of that day’s dinner, possibly brought by a noble who knew the secret of who lived here. He would have expected the wing to be silent, but his ears caught a faint melody muffled by empty air. Piano music. Gentle and elegant. He steeled himself and started to follow it.

The North Wing was full of books, he noticed. Bookshelves placed seemingly randomly along the walls of the hallway, piled on the floor in places. Eight years completely alone, the Princess must have had a lot of time to read them. They were mostly novels, some history books, some on science or astronomy, he even spotted a few on the study of magic. Looking at the titles William began to get a fuzzy picture of who the Princess was. A romantic, dreaming of adventure, of heroism, of something more
.
William tried to pull a particularly heavy-looking volume off a shelf, only to send several others crashing down, the thuds they made as they hit the floor was amplified by the peaceful, lonely silence, and the piano music stopped abruptly.

“Who's there?” Someone shouted, voice wavering with fear. “Father? Is that you?”

He froze. So much for a good first impression, ah well, no point in hiding himself from her. He watched as a door at the end of the hall swung open, and out stepped the princess, trembling and holding a pair of stork-shaped sewing scissors out in front of her like such small things could protect her. She drew closer, caution slowing down every step.
“Who are you?” She demanded. “Tell me!”

He backed away, the scissors may be small, but he wasn't exactly keen on getting stabbed today.

“William.” He said in earnest, “William Wisp? I'm the one you sent a letter to.”

Her face softened, and she lowered her weapon.

“Oh… r-right.” She laughed nervously as she slipped the scissors back into her pocket. “Sorry about that, I didn't recognize you at first. You look… different close-up.”

He shrugged. “Most people do.”

She smiled at him. He was glad to know her as more than a glimpse. He thought she looked pretty plain for the princess of such a wealthy kingdom, her clothes looked nice enough but they didn't have the flash of seashells or gems he had grown to expect from those of high class. Or even the more unorthodox methods of decoration borrowed from nearby kingdoms, like shimmering beetle shells. The only accessory she had was a pair of silver wire spectacles that framed her violet eyes. William found himself thinking that she didn't need any jewelry or seashells or beetles. Those eyes were more beautiful than any crystal.

“Why are you here?” She asked.

He snapped out of his admiration enough to answer. “I just thought I'd pay you a visit, I mean- you seem lonely.”

“A bit.” She said, like her eight-year-long isolation wasn't a big deal at all. “How'd you get past the guards?”

“Just a little magic.” He held out the empty vial and smiled mischievously. “Invisibility potion, hides you from anyone you don't want to see.”

“That's clever.” Ashe remarked, “I never could get a knack for magic. I suppose you must be a new mage, though. It's your job to have a knack for it.”

“Graduated top of my class, though I don't mean to brag.” He did mean to brag.

Ashe gazed at him curiously. “Your hair…” She began, “Some of it's white, what's that from?”

William twirled the white lock around his finger, no one had commented on it yet, there were times he could almost forget it existed. “Oh, this? Well, turns out that some particularly powerful spells can bleach your hair. Let's just say that spell was the reason I was hired here. My accomplishment really caught the Archmage’s eye, and well, the eye of every other mage in the kingdom.”

“What did you do?”

William froze. He wasn't expecting that question, or how to answer it.
“I uh- well- I sort of- developed a new form of magic? I don't really know how I did it, it was honestly a complete accident-”

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” Ashe said. “I mean, it'll probably be a long while before we trust each other.”

William went quiet for a moment. “I'd like to trust you, I think. I think I want to get you out of there.”

Ashe's smile turned into something sad. “You do, huh? Yeah, good luck with that, my father's pretty insistent on keeping me up here.”

“Why?”

She met his gaze. “Maybe we both have secrets we'd want to keep for now.”

She walked over to a heavy cloth curtain and pulled it aside, revealing the window hiding behind it, darkened by the night. “I would like to smell the roses in the garden again, though, or feel the rain on my face. I'm safe in here but, I don't know, sometimes I feel like I've forgotten what it feels like to live.”

“You will, one day, I promise. I'll get you out of here.”

“Thank you, William, that's... very noble of you.” Her smile returned and she seemed to brighten. “Now that potion of yours, how long does it last?”

“Damn it.” He swore, “I should get out of here, I’m sorry I couldn't stay longer. I'll make more, for next time, twice the batch so I can stay as long as you want.”

She laughed a little, and for some reason, it reminded William of birdsong. “Thank you, I'd like that.”

William smiled and pulled his cloak over his head, turning to leave.

“One more thing!” Ashe called before taking his hand. “Will you try to write? I'll send Marbles over every day to collect any letters.”

He nodded and slowly walked away, only letting go of her at the last moment. “Of course, I'll be back as soon as I can manage. I promise.”

“Thank you, really.” She cast her gaze to the stone floors. “It's nice to finally have a friend.”

William waved her goodbye and with that, he was gone. Secret meetings and exchanged letters. It sounded like something out of one of the novels on the shelves.

William had to admit he felt a little silly, walking unnoticed through the halls of the palace holding a sweet-smelling bouquet of roses and a tin of candies he bought in town the day before. Gifts for someone he met a week ago. Nevertheless, he ever so carefully slipped through the door to the North Wing. Ashe was already waiting for him. Her eyes sparkled behind their spectacles when she saw him.

“You brought gifts?” Ashe asked, spotting the items he was struggling not to drop as he closed the door behind him.

William gave a nervous smile. “Just a little something, thought it would be nice. You uh- said you wanted to smell the roses again, so I brought you some.”

Ashe accepted the bouquet and buried her nose in it, breathing deeply.
“Thank you.” She said, eyes shining with gratitude.

“They're enchanted. A preservation spell. They'll keep fresh for a year.”
Ashe hummed. “Hopefully I'll be out of here by then.” She murmured.
William nodded. “Hopefully.”

“I've been practicing a new song on my violin, wanna hear it?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“I'd love to.”

She led him into another room, it appeared to be a bedroom, considering the four-poster bed in the corner piled high with far too many pillows. There were books in here too, but there was also a beautiful grand piano, standing proud, if untuned, its sides painted in swirling, golden, floral patterns. A violin was laid across its shining lacquered lid, just as wonderfully made, it seemed to beg for someone to play it.

Carefully, Ashe picked it up, set the bow onto the strings, and started to play.

It was a beautiful, sweeping melody. It started mellow, and as the piece went on it grew faster and louder, Ashe’s fingers dancing across the strings, the bow bobbing up and down as it drew out the notes. William had never heard anything that took his breath away as much as that music, he found himself enchanted by it, lulled by the sound and the way Ashe moved. It was there, in that moment, that William found himself falling in love.
When it was finished, the final note hung in the air like a gentle rain, and Ashe set the violin down and looked at him.

William could not find any words to describe the beauty of what he had just heard, so he picked some that only just scratched the surface.
“That was wonderful, Ashe.”

She smiled. “Thank you, sorry if I’m not that good- I’m mostly self-taught.”

He reached out to take her hand. “Are you kidding? That was amazing! You’re amazing!”

She shielded her gaze. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do.” He said, and he meant it, with his whole heart.

“Do you engage in the arts?” The princess asked, eyes shining, “I know you seem more of the sciencey type.”

William shrugged. “Not often, though I do like writing poetry from time to time.”

“Poetry is nice, never been too good at writing it myself though.” Ashe lamented, “Could you read some of yours to me?”

William flushed. “I uh, I don’t have anything prepared, maybe next time.”
“Oh, alright.” She paused for a moment, “For now though, do you just want to talk?”

“Of course.”

And so they did, they talked for hours, about magic, about their childhoods, about the useless things that had been on their minds. They talked of their woes and joys and did not talk of their secrets, for they felt no need to. They inched ever so closer to each other throughout the night, each excited question drawing them nearer until their shoulders brushed. William wouldn’t find out if they would dare to grow closer, before he knew it, it was nearly dawn. When William waved goodbye and slipped out the door, his heart felt lighter than ever, like a rose that only now fully bloomed.

William sat on the garden wall and turned the page over in his hands, heart skipping as he read the words over and over again. He was so distracted he didn’t even notice Virion climbing up beside him.

“Who’s that from?” The knight asked, peering over at the letter before William quickly stuffed it into his cloak, out of sight.

“Just someone from the academy,” William said quickly, the lie rolling off his tongue like raindrops.

Virion’s eyes shone with curiosity. “Can I read it?”

He shook his head. “It’s uh- It’s personal.”

“Oh, I see.”

They both sat in silence like that for a long time, listening to the birds sing their sweet melodies in the forest behind them, watching the honeybees lazily peruse flowers in the garden below. A peaceful, sunny day with perfect, drifting clouds. Virion and William had formed a fast friendship here in the palace, they were the odd ones out, the people who were not from here. That kind of thing forms a kinship between outsiders. Virion wasn’t much of a talker, he didn’t need to be. A lot of the time they just sat together, Virion polishing his armor, William preparing finicky spell components, or pouring over the latest brick of a grimoire Mal had assigned him. Life in the palace was quickly settling into a routine, he liked that, the consistency, the predictability. Excitement was something that often led to people getting hurt. The mundane, the peace, that had always been more his speed.

“Have you ever been in love, Virion?” William asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“Not really. Haven’t had a lot of time for that kind of thing, y’know?” He laughed a little to himself, “What about you?”

He smiled as he watched a magpie with a violet ribbon tied to its neck soar through the gardens. “A few times.”

“What’s it like?”

“It feels like flying.”

Archmage Mallard Conway knew he shouldn’t have been snooping around in his apprentice’s quarters while he was away, but in his defense, he needed a spell component William had borrowed from him, and he didn’t have the time or patience to track him down. So here he was, rifling through the mess William had made of his study trying to find that damned powdered abalone. He was having no luck, and probably making the lack of organization even worse.

He was just about to give up and schedule a trip down to town to buy more when he heard the tap tap tap of something on the window. He whirled around and came face to face with a magpie of all things, a ribbon the color of spring lilacs tied around its neck in a neat bow with a small rolled-up sheet of parchment tucked into it. Mallard knew who that magpie answered to. He flung the window open and snatched the bird out of the air before it could escape. It squawked indignantly, but could not wriggle out from his grasp.

“Caught you, meddlesome bird.” He sneered, “Mind telling me why the princess is in correspondence with my apprentice?”

The rat with wings snapped its beak shut. Mal could admire its loyalty to the young royal.

He narrowed his eyes and pulled the letter free from its ribbon. Having what he needed, he freed the magpie, which bit his hand hard before flying out the open window. Where to did not matter to him.

He turned his attention to the scrap of parchment, unfurling it. It was written in the neat, looping handwriting he had come to expect of the princess, and the contents were very interesting indeed…

A chuckle boiled up in Mal’s throat. A warning, it seemed.

He held the parchment in the flame of the lamp, and it caught quickly. He watched as the letter curled away into nothing but ash, and swept away the evidence as if nothing had ever happened.

It would be a pity, William was such a bright young man, and so promising. Finding a new apprentice would be difficult, much less one who was able to perform necromancy. Alas, he would manage. All in time, all in time. The pieces were falling into place now, and Mallard was about to call checkmate.

Two vials clinked together in William’s pocket as he walked a now familiar path through the palace. One he had emptied, the other was for Ashe. It was enough to get them both out of the palace and to the horses he had prepared in the stable. From there, the two of them could go anywhere. His heart sang thinking of the possibilities, the adventures they could embark on, and the places they would go. Some part of William only wanted to find a house far away from anything they knew, cozy and warm and theirs. It would be a simple life, but maybe that would be enough.

He hardly even noticed that the guards had changed, he was so entranced in his fantasies. The incompetent guards who fell asleep propped up on their lances were gone, instead replaced with a pair of stern-faced knights he knew were some of the king’s most trusted. They stared ahead, alert and unwavering, right through him. The king must have noticed the slacking of the previous guards and heightened security. William rolled his eyes, a pain, but they shouldn’t be too much harder to get past.

He inched close to the door before taking the empty vial from his cloak and throwing it as hard as he could down the corridor, it shattered on impact. The guards hurried to investigate, which gave him just enough time to slip through the door to the north wing entirely unnoticed.

However, the glow of his success dissipated quickly as he took in his surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that all the lights were out. Or maybe the air was colder than normal. Or maybe, it was the unsettling silence that covered the north wing like a thick fog. Whatever it was, William immediately got the sense that something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.

Not wanting to wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, William found a lamp sitting on a nearby table and lit it. The flickering orange flame wasn’t much against the oppressive darkness of the hallway around him, but it was better than nothing.

“Ashe?” He called out into the emptiness. No response. She hadn’t been waiting for him. No music flowed through the air. It was far too dark to read. Was she asleep? That didn’t make sense, it was barely past evening, and she knew he was coming. A sinking pit opened up in William’s stomach. Something had happened to her, and he needed to find out what.

The lamp’s light swept across the walls. Same as usual, bookshelves upon bookshelves, until he came across a blank patch of stone brick. The bookshelf that normally hid it had been tipped over, broken and shattered, contents strewn across the floor. Dozens of its books had been torn to shreds, a torn scrap of what used to be a charming woodcut illustration drifted past on a breeze coming from a slightly open window. William shuddered, and then he looked up.
Great gouges marred the wall the bookshelf had once stood guard over, vicious slashes were torn into the stone with a brutality that made William think that whatever did it was trying to break through the wall. He reached out to touch them, perhaps they could have been made with a dagger or a sword.

Or claws.

William took a step back, his breathing growing shaky. No, he couldn’t panic now. He could panic once he saw blood. This was just a wall, just some ruined books. It could be nothing, nothing at all.

He needed to find Ashe, maybe she was in her room? Gods, he hoped she was okay. She had to be okay.

Taking cautious steps, he pushed the door to her room open.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting silver shapes onto the floor and highlighting the dust that drifted through the air. It wasn’t a lot of light, but it was enough to illuminate the pillow lying on the floor, torn open, spilling its interior over the floor. The combination of the scarlet velvet and the feathers reminded William of the morning he went to feed the chickens only to discover a fox had broken in overnight and had his fill of the poor hens. A chill ran up his spine as he followed the trail of down to the bed. Its curtains had been partially torn down and ripped to shreds. There was a shape hiding behind them, and William couldn’t hide the gasp that escaped his throat.

It had long, black, feathered wings that were tattered and unpreened. Its claws were wickedly sharp and no doubt what caused the destruction. Two black horns curved up from its forehead. Its ears were long and pointed, like an elf’s, and though it was hard to make out in the dim lighting, William could swear he recognized its long silver hair. Could it be? No, that was impossible.

The creature turned around and bared needle-sharp teeth. Its eyes shone in the moonlight, that odd lavender color being something he’d become so fond of. But, there was something different to them, something animalistic, something hungry, something violent.

“Ashe?” He gasped, “Ashe is that you?”

The thing that surely once was Princess Ashe of the Winter Kingdom stood up and swayed on its feet, and then charged right at him.

William was glad he had enough quick thinking to blow out the lamp before Ashe slammed into him and knocked him to the ground. The lamp shattered on impact, splattering hot oil everywhere, including onto his hand, but nothing caught fire. Meanwhile, Ashe had him pinned, driving those awful claws into his shoulders. He felt blood begin to well up and bit back a scream. An awful sound came from her mouth, it sounded almost like laughing.

“Ashe, please!” William pleaded, wincing through pain, “It’s me! Please tell me you remember me, please tell me you can see me.
”
As he felt her grip grow tighter, claws digging further into his flesh, William realized that this was it, he was going to die. What a foolish romantic he was, of course there was a reason Ashe was locked up here. It wasn’t to keep her safe, it was to keep everyone else safe from her. William had fallen in love with a monster, and now she was going to kill him.

Would they ever find his body? Would anyone notice? Is this what happened to the last apprentice? Was her body hidden in the north wing? Would he join her? Would he become just another rumor, just another ghost story? He looked up and met Ashe’s eyes. He still loved her, he would love her even if she quite literally tore his heart out. She was in there somewhere, he just needed to get to her.

“Aren’t I your sea?” He whispered. “Are you not my moon?”

He felt the claws relax, watched her eyes soften.

“Please just look at me, Ashe. Don’t do this. I know you would never want to do this.”

She shrank back. She didn’t look so eager to slaughter him anymore. She looked… scared.

“Will…iam?” She said, her voice layered with several others he couldn’t recognize.

Tears gathered in his eyes. “It’s me, Ashe, I’m here.”

She curled in on herself, hugging her warped wings around her body. A strangled sound escaped her throat, something almost like sobbing.

William looked to the moon, round as a dish of milk left on an altar, and looked to Ashe, trying her best to shy away from the light.

“It’s the moon, isn’t it?” He asked.

Ashe looked at him for a moment, then nodded shakily.

He moved a little closer to her. “I’ll stay here then, until the sun rises.”

Ashe pointed at his shoulder, his shirt seeping through with blood.

William shook his head. “We can worry about that in the morning.” He wasn’t bleeding too bad, and his concerns lie elsewhere right now.

Ashe hesitated, then curled in next to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in turn, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances into her ear. In the hours that passed, one or both of them might have fallen asleep, just existing in each other’s arms. Despite Ashe being transformed into this beast of claws and horns and wings, there was a serene calm that enveloped the both of them. They were together, and for now, it will be alright. When dawn came they could speak of this, but for now, there was simply a quiet understanding that neither of them would leave, that this moment, this night, would be all their own.

Eventually, sunlight streamed in through the window and painted the room in gold. William watched, eyes still half closed as Ashe’s horns and claws slowly shrunk away, and her wings were shrugged off her back and reduced to just a pile of black feathers falling around her. She didn’t look up at him as she spoke, her voice hoarse.

“I told you not to come here.” She said, “I warned you.”

William shrugged. “Well, here I am.”

“You got hurt. I hurt you.”

He pulled her in close. “It’s not your fault.”

“You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

Ashe looked up at him, some mix of fury and worry and something indescribable. “You are such a fucking idiot, you know that, right? I sent you that letter for a reason, this is what I was trying to stop. I couldn’t just have you waltzing in here while I was-” She made a frustrated noise and buried her face in his cloak.

“You sent me a letter?” He asked, confusion showing on his face.

“Yesterday afternoon, you didn’t get it?”

William went quiet for a moment. “No, I don’t think I did.”
“Marbles did seem panicked when she came back after delivering it, I just assumed she had a close call with one of the falcons but maybe someone else took it, which means…”

“Someone else knows.” Realized William.

Ashe hissed through her teeth. “Let’s hope they don’t do anything about it. It doesn’t matter, I need to tell you what all of that was about, don’t I?”

“That would be helpful.”

She took a deep breath. “It started eight years ago. I don’t know where it came from, but one night, I transformed into… that. My mother was unlucky enough to be in the room with me, so from that day onward, the kingdom was told we were both dead. They buried my mother, pretended they buried me, and ever since then, I’ve been trapped here while Mallard finds a way to cure my curse. It became clear enough that there was a pattern to the transformation, every new moon I would grow those wings. At least, it was like that for a while, but lately, it’s changed. Now, I transform on the full moon too. It’s getting worse, every time I change back to find the north wing in a worse state than the last. It’s taking longer for the sunlight to change me back. Sometimes, on a random night, I will feel wings trying to burst from my back. I don’t think I have a lot of time, William. I need this curse broken, and soon. Or- or I think I won’t be myself anymore.”

William thought about this. “I’ll find a way to break it, I promise.”

She smiled. “Well, if anyone’s going to do it, it’s you. I really wish I could find a way to make it easier for you, I don’t know who cursed me, and I don’t really know how it works. I never did get the hang of anything magical.”

“I’ve always had the hang of it,” William said with a smirk, before wincing and holding his shoulder. The movement had made the wounds open up again, and it really hurt. “I should go see someone about that. Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be fine.” She said, watching as he uncorked the second vial of stealth potion and drank it down. “Be safe, okay? If someone knows about this, it could be bad.”

“I know, I’ll be careful.”

She took his hand and leaned in close. “One more thing.”

She lifted his chin and kissed him, it was gentle, and there was a bit of awkwardness to it. They broke apart quicker than he would have liked, he was in a hurry after all. Still, he felt his heart hammer in his chest and he knew he was blushing up a storm. Ashe giggled.

“Goodbye, William.” She said, “I love you.”

A smile was all the response he needed to give before he allowed himself to vanish from Ashe’s senses and slip out the door.

From the journals of Mallard Conway, Archmage of the Winter Kingdom:

William’s hands shook as he picked up the book, heavy and aged. When he opened it, he found pages and pages of words in a language he couldn’t understand. Passages of black ink in communication with scrawls of red.

Mal was speaking to them, this “Array” through this book, which meant…
He flipped to the last page. A huge block of black text, and at the bottom, five red signatures. The contract. William knew enough about magical contracts to know that destroying them made them null and void. Freeing Ashe and stopping whatever the archmage was planning to do that night was as simple as burning the book.

William had just lit a candle when he heard footsteps and the telltale clack clack clack of Mal’s cane against the stone floors. He panicked and gathered up as many of the notes as he could, stuffed them in the book, and swung himself out the open window.

He held the book in his teeth and held on for dear life to the crevices in the walls of the east tower. The prayers he recited in his head grew louder and more frantic as he heard the door to Mal’s study swing open.

He listened as the Archmage searched through his study, silent and methodical. He listened as he walked up to the open window. And he listened as he shut it with a quick snap!.

William let out a sigh of relief and began the arduous process of climbing down. When his feet touched earth once again, the need to act suddenly coursed through his veins. He was holding damning evidence, evidence that could expose his mentor and exonerate the person he loved. He needed to get it to someone, he needed to get it to the king.

He ran like a hare chased by a falcon through the gardens. He knew where Virion was posted this time of day, he just needed to…

“Virion!” He cried out, spotting that familiar violet hair. “Virion! I need your help!”

The elf’s ears perked in curiosity. “William? I’m here, is something wrong?”

He struggled to catch his breath. “Mal…” He panted, “The Archmage, he’s planning something awful. I need to get to the throne room, I need to tell the king about this.”

Virion hissed through his teeth and his expression grew serious. “I always knew that old bastard was up to no good, I can take you there. Follow me.”

William obliged as Virion took him through the winding corridors of the palace. He nervously looked around for a tailcoat disappearing around a corner, the sound of a cane tapping against stone. Mal was in the palace right now, and he was surely looking for him, they had to hurry.
Reaching the huge, ornate door of the throne room, the two guards posted outside crossed their lances.

“Halt!” One of the guards snapped, her voice made it clear she wasn’t having a very good day. “What business do you have with King Winters?
”
“Important business,” Virion said sternly. “Move.”

She barked a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t take orders from you, knife ears.”

Virion huffed and opened his mouth to retort before William stepped in.

“The king is in mortal danger, we need to speak to him right now. There’s a conspirator on the court, he could be killed.”

The guard considered this for a moment, before nodding to her partner and pushing open the doors.

Inside, the throne room was large and ornate, tapestries and curtains of green and gold lined the walls, and in the center of the room on a gilded throne sat the king.

King Marcus Winters was an imposing figure. While he was of course not literally half-dragon as some say, he had the cold heart of one. He was ruthless and angry, while his twenty-year feud with the Tidal Kingdom had not turned to war yet, there was no doubt that if one started he would battle with all the ferocity of a winter storm. It showed in his eyes, those cruel eyes that stared the two of them down as they walked closer. Those eyes were nothing like Ashe’s, which were kind and curious and the color of the sky before dawn. Ashe looked nothing like her father. Still, her father was the king, and no matter how mean he looked, William could not wish him dead, especially when Mallard was the person vying for the throne.

Virion knelt at the king’s feet, as a knight is to do, but William did no such thing. King Winters gave him a glare for this transgression, he stared at him right back.

The king sighed. “Alright, what is so important that you need to interrupt me so suddenly? Virion?”

Virion glanced up. “William, the Archmage’s apprentice, he has the information for you, my king.”

William held out the book. “I found these in Mallard Conway’s private study. He’s been plotting against you for almost a decade now.”

He took them but didn’t flip through them. “And why were you in his private study?”

William sheepishly looked to the floor. “I needed to find out what progress he had made on the princess’ curse.”

The king slammed his fist down on the arm of the throne. “And how do you know about that?”

He felt words catch in his throat. “We’ve been meeting, my king, in secret, almost since I came to the palace. She told me about her curse so I decided to find a way to break it myself.”

A vein appeared in the king’s forehead, but instead of calling for his execution, he instead flipped through the notes. William watched as his anger grew with each passing line.

“I know you think Mal has been trying to break the curse all this time, but it's not true. He’s the one who gave it to her, he’s trying to kill you using your own daughter as the weapon!”

Virion had stopped kneeling, his eyes wide and fixed on him as he spoke.

“William…if that’s true.”

“He’s lying.” Said a voice from the doorway.

“Mallard.” Sneered the king, snapping the book shut.

“I’m not lying!” Shouted William, “I have evidence, you conniving snake!”
“Calm yourself.” The Archmage said smoothly, “My king, that ‘evidence’ is simply a very convincing forgery made by my apprentice. Clearly, William is only trying to usurp me.”

Anger boiled inside William’s chest. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. I looked up to you, you were my idol. I can’t believe I was too stupid to-”
“William, quiet.” Ordered the king, dangling the book over the brazier next to his throne. “Mallard, I’m sure that if what you say is true, and these really are forgeries, then you will not mind me burning them.”

Something on the Archmage’s face twitched. “My king, I really don’t believe that is nesccesa-”

The king glared at Mal with a ferocity that could have killed a more cowardly man. “You answer to me, Mallard, don’t you forget that.” A smug smile curled his lip. “Unless of course, you already have.”

Mallard Conway was far too late to stop his precious contract from falling into the brazier and catching alight. By the time he plunged his hands into the flames with a scream of rage and agony and pulled out the book it was already too far gone, and any efforts to stamp it out were fruitless. When it curled to ash in his blistered hands, the air gained a new quality, like a thread had just snapped.

The Archmage looked to his king, seething. The king looked back, rage traded for the cold look of a ruler making his decision.

“Mallard, I strip you of your title and officially exile you from my kingdom. You will be escorted out by my guards tonight, and come morning, if you are ever seen in this kingdom again you will be killed, do you understand?”

Mal’s expression did not waver. “You’ll pay for this.” He spat.

King Winters narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m not executing you where you stand.”

The guards from the door marched forward and seized the former Archmage of the Winter kingdom, each taking a burned arm. As they dragged him away, Mal stared directly at William, directly into his soul, and smiled.

“You’re a bright one, and so honorable,” He said with a smile that made William’s blood run cold, “Good luck.”

And with that, the door slammed shut. Virion stood motionless aside from the lashing of his tail.

The king sighed, “Congratulations, William, you’re the new Archmage.”

William couldn’t even voice his thanks, instead, he simply nodded and stared at the door his mentor had disappeared behind.

“Now,” King Winters began, “Somebody find my daughter.”

The rain speckled the flowers and leaves of the gardens with fat shining droplets and slicked the crumbling marble statues as William sat under the shade of a willow tree, getting soaking wet. He didn’t mind, he liked the rain.

The past couple of months had been an ordeal, the palace, and eventually the kingdom at large learning that Princess Ashe was alive sprouted both celebration and controversy. The cover story was that she had been deathly ill for the past eight years from the former Archmage’s devious plot to poison her and her mother. This was enough for the public and the lesser nobles, the higher members of the court knew the more gruesome truth. Ashe was also having a hard time adjusting to the responsibilities of being a princess, as was William with his new status as an Archmage (There was a lot more communing with old, wizened, boring mages involved than he thought, he must be the youngest Archmage in the whole world.) They leaned on each other in the precious moments of free time they had, they leaned on Dakota and Virion too, the four of them had formed quite the bond.

Mal was nowhere to be seen, of course. No one even knows where he went. Dakota suggested he was in an evil-looking cave somewhere plotting revenge, and while William had laughed at it, he would admit it probably wasn’t too far off. This was not the last he would see of Mallard Conway, that much he was sure of.

Out of the rosebushes in front of him stepped someone he knew very well. Ashe was dressed far less plainly now, far more like a princess. She looked beautiful. She wrapped him in a hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling down beside him.

“So, did you talk to him?” William asked.

“Yeah, no wedding yet, but I think he’s stopped being so miffed about us being together, so that’s a start.”

He chuckled. “Even that’s an accomplishment. Your father is a stubborn man.”

“That he is.” She said with a smile, looking up at the rain-soaked branches of the willow. “There’s something else though, A messenger came today bringing news from Fauna, apparently it’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” He asked.

Ashe shook her head. “They didn’t say, but one of the nobles managed to convince my father to send me on a diplomacy mission to check it out, and I suggested you and Virion come with me.”

“A diplomacy mission, huh? Well, I’m certainly not going to refuse the journey, I’m getting really sick of this palace.”

Ashe laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you think I’ll get to see the ocean again?”

“Yeah,” William murmured, closing his eyes and letting himself feel the rain on his face. “I’m sure we will.”