Page 1 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

Act 1: The Beginning

World So Cold [12 Stones]

Prologue

Pandora Hart

A streak of crimson paints a line across the thick snow. My mother holds the legs of a deceased woman she was once entertaining downstairs before they argued over Fross Hart. She appears unfazed by my watchful gaze as she drops the corpse to shovel snow into a heap, continuing until the spade of the shovel strikes grass and soil.

Luna jumps onto my lap as I watch. I smile at the furry creature, and she gazes at me with an expression that can only signify desperate hunger. I scratch behind her ear, and the cat tilts her head to the side and closes her eyes.

Once she’s snuggled on my legs, I lift my gaze away from her to admire the lights. They blink in bright red, blue, and green, illuminating life across the snow and the frozen homes that lie still in the silent night.

My shoulder rests against the window, and hot air escapes from my lungs, steaming the frosted glass. Lost in the darkness of my mind, I trace a circle around Elden Keep when something captures my attention. Unlike the lights on icy poles, a smoky orange glow appears above the cold houses. It burns red, but this red deepens, thickening into black smoke.

As I rise, several things happen at once. Luna hops off my lap, and someone’s frantic footsteps prompt me to turn away from the window. Typha rushes into my room, the door slamming against the wall in her panic. Her bright pink eyes widen with utter fright, and her body trembles as she says, “We need to leave, Pandora!”

Looking away from my sister, I see someone appear in the doorway. Fire licks through the gaps in his fingertips, and the flames swirl into a ball in the palm of his raised hand, ready to be thrown at us.

My hands lift, locking onto Typha’s shoulders. As the flames grow nearer, up the walls and catching alight on the bedsheets, I drag Typha’s body to the side, and we narrowly miss the flames as we fall to the ground. The window shatters, raining shards of glass down on us. A gust of wind follows, and the smoke from outside fills my bedroom with a thick haze.

Luna leaps through the opening, fleeing in a panic at the sound of the stranger creeping into the room. His eyes never leave Typha while another flame bursts in the palm of his hand.

My attention shifts from him to the dagger on my nightstand.

Shit…do I have enough time?

Chapter 1

Sex Metal Barbie [In This Moment]

Pandora Hart

I wake to the silent scream of a memory turned nightmare. As I sit upright on the bed, the sheet comes with me from all the sweat accumulating across my back. Slowly peeling it away like another layer of skin, I shuffle to the edge.

Fuck, I’m already exhausted, and the day has only just begun.

With a sigh, I rest my elbows on my knees. It’s that time of year…No wonder the nightmares are happening again.

I run my fingers through my hair. The damp moisture slips through my hairline as I drag them across the long, dark strands. Then, with a shake of my head, I try to remove the weird funk.

Afterwards, I get up and step to the dresser near the bed. Empty of clothes. With a muttered curse, I pull out the steel combination box inside, then close the drawer and crouch by the pile of clothes. I grab my day-old uniform and fresh underwear from the basket beside it before I enter the bathroom, bundle the clothes into a pile on the sink, and turn on the shower. Water sprays sporadically from the showerhead, and the pipe in the wall gives off a rattling, chugging sound as if it’s about to burst.

I rinse off the grime, sweat, and dark nightmares of the past quickly, then step out of the shower. The towel soaks up the cool wetness from my pale skin, and then heat sweats out of my pores, tingling my skin with irritation. “Summer,” I say with loathing.

I dress in the academy uniform: a simple white button-up blouse, a black skirt, and shorts underneath. I wear shorts because I have learned my lesson with the male students at the academy—especially air fucking elemny. They will do whatever they want with their powers to ruffle the women wearing skirts.

And the last time fucking Kaden did that, I grabbed the dagger that reminds me of home, with a hilt as black as night and a blade as silver as the stairs, and rested it against his fucking dick. When I threatened to cut it off, his face drained of colour.

He also pissed himself.

Since then, he hasn’t spoken to me, and maybe that’s a good thing. The persona I’m maintaining doesn’t allow me to make mistakes like that. No matter how damned pissed off I am about some sleazy dick trying to flash a glimpse of my underwear, I need to hold my composure. Another mistake like that in front of the wrong elemny and I am dead.

Tearing my thoughts away bitterly, I flick the latch on the box that holds my brown contact lenses before looking in the mirror. I lean in and glare at the darkness I’ve grown accustomed to. Pinching the contact lenses, I take them out and then rub away the irritation festering in my eyes. When I open them, violet eyes, bloodshot from wearing contacts, glow in the dimly lit bathroom light.

I sometimes stare at myself and don’t recognise who I am. The way I treated myself before hiding in Oceanview Harbour differs from how I present myself now. Back then, I didn’t care about appearances, pretty dresses, or how I sounded. I learned to blend in and remain unknown in the Kingdom of Crystal: invisible—a name no one would remember.

But here, I shape my brows, apply pink blush to my cheeks for a touch of colour, and wear foundation and mascara. I look presentable. Alluring. And to the men at the academy, my round brown eyes come across as innocent, which is whatever, I suppose.