SWW 05

Scáthach: World Walker 05

A Frozen Heart

Leaving Edric behind left me feeling a little bittersweet.

I’d finally had another battle, one that made my blood sing and granted a warrior his final fight. That, I felt good about.

Yet, it was tarnished. To have that fight, I’d held myself back. It stung particularly worse as I knew Edric could have truly challenged me, but as he’d said, I’d arrived a hundred years too late and had to settle for a shadow of what it could have been. A marred masterpiece, if I had to describe it.

It was ironic how inversed the situation was compared to the norm I’d achieved as Queen of the Land of Shadows. There, I’d been ageless, untouchable, and all the heroes who’d come to me for training departed and died long before they’d be able to slay me. Here, I was free to roam, finally found a peer opponent but arrived simply too late to fight him in his prime.

“Will this always be my fate?” I pondered, footfalls echoing behind me as I approached the throne room’s gates

The echoing sound of my steps on cold stone was the only answer I received.

The gateway was suitably ostentatious, looking carved from thick slabs of crystal-like diamond guarding the way. The sheer value alone of even a fraction of one of the doors would have broken the minds of…

I tilted my head in thought, raising a finger to my chin. No, every mortal king I knew of would likely have had a violent heart attack at the idea of financing such doors made from diamond or would have become so erect their brains would have died from a lack of blood. Perhaps King Gilgamesh? Not that I ever had a chance to meet him, but his legend’s riches were absurd enough to warrant consideration.

I briefly considered the dynamics of forging a hole in diamond, but there was no need. A simple push saw the doors effortlessly swing inward. It was almost comical but raised another point of admiration for the crafters the Winter Court had employed. Truly, only the most marvelous of hinges for the Winter Queen.

I tilted my head. A grand crystal hall lay before me, with a stylized deep blue throne whose head came to resemble a stylized snowflake. It was quite nice, but after the bath house, it was a bit underrated in comparison.

Rather, what drew my attention were the two corpses.

The first was in front of the throne, perhaps a mere twenty steps away. A pretty woman in a surprisingly mortal looking way was a woman, seemingly aged in her early twenties, frozen standing up in clear ice. She wore a formfitting dress of light and dark blues and a small tiara atop her head. She looked surprisingly human, with the ice so clear I could see the deep blues of her eyes near perfectly. They were widened ever so slightly while her bangs were stuck slightly out of place, like the air had shifted unexpectedly.

Rather than fear, she simply looked sad but had a certain determination to her expression I could admire. Her right arm was outstretched, as if offering a hand to someone lost.

It truly looked like a captured moment of forgiveness, or reconciliation captured in a sphere of perfect ice. Notably, while she didn’t exude power, there was a palpable aura around the sphere, a familiar touch of destiny, if I had to put a name to it.

I still wasn’t certain it wasn’t a pure facet of my imagination born of a very, very long life. But I’d had enough interactions with heroes to get a certain feel for the air around them, even if they were beyond mundane. Cú Chulainn and Ferdiad came to mind, but I’d seen hundreds and had come to recognize the way the world shifted ever so slightly in their passing.

Curious, I tapped the ice. My finger immediately went numb, despite my protections. I then lightly traced kenaz on the sphere of ice with my magical energy. I didn’t expect much given carving in a medium always worked better, but it was expedient and quick.

Naturally, the runes flared with a burst of flame that warmed my cheeks but did little else to the sphere. It didn’t even leave a mark.

I could have kept escalating, but that had done a lot of nothing as the ice seemed to reject the flame wholesale before it even touched the ice.

I shifted my stance and struck once. It wasn’t a direct strike, more one meant to cut off a bit of ice at the curved edge of the sphere.

Gáe Bolg rebounded off it. I narrowed my eyes and struck more forcefully. I struck a second time, doubling the strength I put into it. Gáe Bolg rebounded once again.

The third time, I empowered the strike. It wasn’t a hit of true death, a Noble Phantasm, but it had a trace echo of the strike that would pierce all barriers. Most of the time. At this empowerment, it’d easily penetrate most mundane armors or a foot of granite.

Clang!

Still nothing. Or…

I leaned in, enhancing my sight, and saw the truth. I had done damage that time, however miniscule, but it was already regenerating itself such that I may as well never have touched it.

Some sort of curse? Perpetual or eternal ice that rejected damage outright? It was hard to say. I’d have to do some more tests to be sure as I was fairly sure she was alive.

It was honestly hard to say at a glance. The ice encasing her was as cold as anything I’d ever experienced, if not worse. For most beings, I’d list that as a hard no on the chances of her being alive. If she was a Winter Fae, possibly even a princess if the Tiara was any indication, it was possible.

So far, I hadn’t felt like much of a hero here. It was hardly required, of course, but I always admired heroes, and it would be nice to actually save someone from this doomed world.  That, and the air of destiny, the feeling of weight however slight, didn’t tend to linger around corpses. Usually.

Maybe I could train her, just a bit. I hadn’t had a female student in some time. The thought excited me.

Still, testing would be for later, if only because there was a very high chance the cursed ice was linked to her life force and pushing too hard would just kill her for good.  For now, it was time to check the corpse.

I had many regrets in my life, but one admittedly minor one was that I’d never had the joy to take a stab at the Winter Queen. I’m certain it would have ended poorly for someone, but it would have been an enjoyable experience. Alas, even before I bound myself to the Land of Shadows, I’d only interacted with her through intermediaries. Mostly, I’d let her know I would use any Fae who first try to take people from my realm, and then later souls the Land of Shadows for their ‘games’ as fertilizer, and that had been that.

I suppose it was less ‘interaction’ and more two bitches marking their territory and glaring at one another.

I’d heard stories, tales, even met people who had supposedly seen her in her terrible beauty. She was supposed to be a regal, towering figure, a woman who embodied Winter utterly. Beautiful, yes, but beauty in the same way the most brutal of blizzards overtaking the countryside would be, a ruinous beauty to admire, yes, but one that would kill you just the same.

Maybe what I was looking at was once that entity, but no more. The thing sitting in the throne was a mummified corpse with a crown of hoarfrost and diamonds. The odd thing was the dress, even the jewelry, looked perfectly preserved on the corpse, but the body was not.

I watched the corpse for a long, long moment before I began walking in a wide arc outward from the body. Periodically, I wrote a very particular rune combination on the stone steps around her throne: kenaz and hagalaz, in combination with my intent and a bit of help from Gáe Bolg. Satisfied, I backed up, ensuring I had the queen in my line of sight.

She looked dead. She felt dead to the divine part of my soul forged in the Land of Shadow. But I had a nagging feeling she wasn’t all dead born from my days adventuring in my youth, days when even an ambush by a basic bear was enough to get my blood racing.

I tapped the feather in my ear. “Sam?” I inquired.

There was a moment of… choiral singing before he answered. “Yeah?” Sam said, voice distant and muffled sounding. “Can barely see you where you’re at, world barrier’s intact. Probably good news for the heart, at least.”

I glanced back at the frozen princess with a considering eye as another observation slotted into place. “A few questions. How were you intending for me to get out of here after I retrieved the heart?”

“The gate, same as you got in. I’d like it if you retrieved the heart and got out of wherever you’re at, but I could brute force it. FYI, that will not work on most worlds, but this world’s half dead and most of the walls are already cracked or breaking. Most of  the time you’d have to travel to a specific weak point for me to open the way for you,” Sam said. The sound of a lighter ignited in the background

I nodded along. That was as I had expected. “What are the chances of the World Heart being a person rather than an item?”

There was a longer silence. “…Why are you asking?”

“I’m looking at what appears to be the Winter Princess frozen in a piece of ice mid attempt to stop the Winter Queen from destroying the world,” I said casually.

The even longer silence followed by, “Ah Hell… You sure it’s her and not just a survivor?”

“She has an air of destiny around her. I’d have to peer into her soul to know more, but…” I said, glancing back at her. She really did look mundane. Pretty, yes, but not the unnatural beauty of the Fae. Her father was at least human, I was certain.

“Yeah, that’d do it. Of course you can see that, but you’re no rookie. Doubt you can carve her out?”

“No, I already tested that. Hesitant to go further before—” I said, only to be interrupted as a firestorm went off behind me.

I whirled and threw Gáe Bulg into the fire storm my runes had created, straight at the dark figure that had risen from the throne. It broke the sound barrier as it stabbed into the Queen’s heart, pinning the mummy to the wall.

A baleful wraith, a thing of utter malice and rage, rose as the body disintegrated in its ethereal glory.. It shrieked, a banshee like cry as it locked eyes with me.

My second spear stabbed through what was left of its soul as I gave it a true death.

I watched the baleful spirit fade away with an echoing shriek before sighing. I’d expected as much, but to have faded that much? Disappointing. She’d probably killed herself long ago after most of the world was long dead, or perhaps after she’d frozen her daughter.

I hadn’t fought the Mab, the Queen of Winter. I’d killed the remnant of a remnant of an echo of the malice she’d had, once upon a time. How disappointing. Edric had gotten my hopes up, but his resilience was exceptional, even in my experience.

“What just happened? I heard explosions,” Sam asked.

“Oh, I just dealt with a bitch long past her prime who didn’t know to stay dead. Anyway, can you make the gate bigger? I asked.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he said..

“Yes,” I admitted shamelessly.

“Ugh, gonna have my hands full with you. But the answer is yes, within reason. Area you’re in is too intact for me to do so easily, but if you make a connection on your end, I can reach out. Follow my instructions and we’ll get the two of you back shortly,” Sam said.

Ooh, new dimensional magic to learn? I’d played with those before, even if they weren’t my specialty, but I was never one to turn down new magics freely given.

Over the next hour, Sam instructed me on the construction of an ‘anchor’ point he could latch his gateway onto. It wasn’t so different to what I had seen a few others do, even the entry points to the Realm of Shadows once upon a time had something similar. Rather, the difference was the ease and expertise Sam had in this regard.

Dimensional coordinates, calculations, and more. Some of it I couldn’t quite replicate as he had a very different way with magic, but I was able to shuffle runes around to recreate his specifications.

The end result was a runic gateway, nearly thrice the size the ones I’d used before.  I flared, powering it with my own energies. That was an actual strain on my reserves but Sam was waiting. White light flared from a small point and expanded to form the White Gate.

“Not bad, but you’re still an amateur in this regard, Witch. Come on over, I’m stuck maintaining this side. World probably has a while left, but don’t push your luck,” Sam said through the feather in my ear.

Popping my shoulders, I briefly scrutinized the girl and her impenetrable cage before taking the simplest route.

I carved out the stone beneath her sphere. This proved far more malleable than the cursed ice imprisoning her. Then? I simply kicked her, ice prison and all, skidding through the gate.

“Watch it you lunatic!” Sam grouched. “But she’s through. Come on in, I don’t want to power this thing any longer than necessary.” The feather went inert in my ear as whatever power in it was withdrawn.

I paused, briefly, glancing back at the throne. It was incredibly likely I would be the last person to see this world.

Another ending I bore witness to.

…

At some point, I decided enough was enough and turned to leave.

Well, not before grabbing the Winter Queen’s crown. I thought it’d look nice on my shelf.

Finder’s keeper’s, after all.

~~~~

AN:

HiddenMaster: I’m not going to lie, half of what gave me trouble this chapter is figuring out what the fucking world heart for this world would be. It was like my brain would just shut down, and writing around it proved, uh…

Difficult.

But then Magica Madoka popped into my head and I had it. Why not a person?

She’s probably going to be on ice a while, though, because plot/nasty curse from a Queen of the Fae at her full and horrible power.

No major fight though. Scáthach was right. Mab had been dead a loooooong time by this point, with nothing to live for after her revenge was complete beyond her wildest dreams and her own power turned on her daughter.

Another difficult thing was the exact specifications of how Sam could interact with Scáthach. Like, an issue I came to her is that if it was too… easy, then a lot of plot points/things I want to explore became iffy. Decided to take a middle route here. Worlds have walls, some of which are weaker than other points. Sam can make gates there. Communication and monitoring is a bit easier, and dead or dying worlds tend to have the weakest walls of all.

Kinda a Swiss cheese effect.

If you would like to see more of my stories or support me so I can keep writing wonderful words, or even reach out to commission me so you can get a story of your own, check out my support carrd below.

HiddenMaster’s Archive: https://hiddenmasterarchive.carrd.co/