"And as the future king of Yaterra, it is your duty to..."

Prince Markus zoned out then. He knew that he'd get an earful from his father later for not listening, but that was future Markus' problem. Current Markus was daydreaming.

Being the oldest prince was no easy task, especially since they were currently on the brink of war with Krintis—a kingdom that sat in the east, beside the ocean (you'd think that a kingdom whose main trade was fish would get along with a kingdom that primarily trades in lumber, but nope). If a war were to start, the soldiers would need a leader, and that leader would be the current King (or the oldest male heir, if the kingdom was currently run by a Queen). And if his father were to die on the battlefield, Markus would have to take his place. Even if his father didn't die, Markus would still have to take the role of King while his father is gone, unless they would have anarchy on their hands after the war.

It was times like this when Markus envied his younger brother, Tarun. He didn't have to sit through their father's lectures for hours every day. He didn't have to learn how to rule a kingdom. He didn't have to learn how to use a sword. He didn't have to pray to the gods every day that war wouldn't start. No, all Tarun has to do is run around and play with his friend—and future bride—Eveline. Even though the two of them were sixteen now, they still ran and played like they were no older than six.

Markus envied Tarun for that, too. Markus wished that he was as childish and carefree as his younger brother. But, Father would scold him for that. In his Father's eyes, the crown prince—and certainly not the King—is not allowed to have any sort of fun. If you're enjoying yourself, then that must mean you're weak, and that must mean that you want to be killed and have your kingdom destroyed. That's what it felt like, anyway.

Markus created a small flame in the palm of his hand, no bigger than a candle's flame. Father didn't allow Markus and Tarun to use their magic outside of the palace—and even then, they were barely allowed to do that—due to his fear that their magic would get out of control and destroy the kingdom. Or that someone would see them use their magic and storm the palace, causing anarchy.

It's not that Father's fears were unwarranted–in fact, it was quite the opposite. When Mother was a child, her twin sister was caught using her magic, and the village burned her at the stake. Mother could do nothing but watch, for she feared that she'd somehow follow the same fate if she saved her sister. So she watched her sister burn and watched as the ever-growing flames taunted her.

Markus wondered if that would happen to them. Maybe not Markus, since he could control the flames, but Tarun? Markus silently prayed to the gods that, no matter what, Tarun would not be killed just for using the gifted curse that he was born with.

"Markus! Are you even listening to me!?" Father exclaimed, snapping Markus back into reality.

To his surprise, the previously small flame burst, causing the base of the flame to be almost as big as Markus' palm. It didn't burn the prince—the flames he created could never hurt him, even if he tried—but it certainly did surprise him—and it certainly angered father.

"What are you doing!? You could've burned the palace down!" Father snapped, his face growing into a shade of scarlet. Markus would've laughed at how red his father had gotten if the prince wasn't so terrified. "Or worse! A maid could've seen you! How would I be able to explain to the kingdom why my son can control fire!?"

Markus snuffed the flame out by closing his palm, then he sunk into his chair. He listened to his father's scoldings quietly, feeling as if he was a child again.

~<•>~

Tarun laughed gleefully as Eveline caught up to him. Her long black hair flowed behind her, exposing her naturally tan skin and eyes that reminded Tarun of hot chocolate on cold winter nights. He couldn't quite explain it, but for the past few years, every time he looked at Eveline, his heart started beating faster and he would feel his face grow hot.

There have been times when Tarun wanted to expose his magic to Eveline, but he thought better of it. What if she told everyone in the village that he had magic? What if the village realized that both of the princes had magic and they stormed the palace? Tarun didn't usually care about the politics surrounding the kingdom, but this was something he did care about. He wanted to protect both his and his brother's secret.

"Caught you!" Eveline exclaimed gleefully as she tackled the prince. He didn't realize he had even slowed down. She frowned after a few minutes had passed, and Tarun didn't say anything. "Hey, are you okay...?"

"Do you hear that?" Tarun asked absentmindedly. They both grew eerily silent as they listened.

Eveline grew irritated after several more minutes of silence. "Tarun, I don't hear anything! Are you sure you're okay?"

Tarun shook his head as he stood up, wiping the dirt off his white pants. He internally groaned when he saw the mud stains growing on his pants. Father was going to kill him. His breath hitched as he heard it. The low thrumming of war drums in the distance.

Eveline stood up after him, wiping the dirt off of her beige dress. "Tarun...?"

Something didn't feel right. The air was getting colder, the wind was so frigid that it felt like it was stabbing into his skin. The wind was howling, screaming, telling him that he was in danger. He started breathing faster and harder, though it felt like he wasn't breathing at all. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he couldn't breathe. His hands started growing colder and colder and they felt like solid ice.

"Tarun!" Someone yelled.

He was in trouble. They knew his name. They most likely knew of his magic and his family. They caught him in the middle of the storm, separated from his brother and his father, and the soldiers. Where were they? Where was he? It was like he was standing in the heart of an unrelenting blizzard. It was so cold. Why was it so cold?

"TARUN!" They yelled, much louder and closer now.

He had to do something. An army was surrounding him, they had to be. If he didn't do something soon, he'd be killed. Or worse. And so, he did the only thing he could do.

He used his magic.

He turned around and saw an indistinguishable figure. That must be their leader, Tarun thought. He clenched his teeth as he aimed towards the figure, blasting them—him? No, her—with his ice magic, freezing her where she stood.

Then, the blizzard started to dissipate, and he felt the sun's warmth on his pale skin. He blinked, then gasped.

Snow surrounded them. It was in the middle of summer, there shouldn't be any snow here, even though Yaterra was on a mountain. The mountain Yaterra was on was much smaller than other mountains, so there was only snow during the winter most years. Tarun looked up at Eveline, and he felt his blood run cold. She was trapped in ice, unable to move, blink, or breathe.

I did that, Tarun realized. I froze my best friend. I killed her. I'm a monster...

"Tarun!" Someone called. That was his brother's voice. Oh gods, his brother. What would Markus do if he found that his baby brother froze his best friend? Markus would hate him, surely.

Tarun decided that there was only one thing to do.

Run away.

~<•>~

When Markus saw the blizzard suddenly start and stop, he knew what that meant. Tarun heard the drums and started panicking. He quickly ran to the courtyard that the two were playing in, and he felt his blood run cold.

The courtyard was covered in snow. Snow that should've started melting by now. This was one of the hottest summers they'd had in centuries, so why wasn't the snow melting? The previously green leaves on the trees were now mostly gone, blown away by the wind, and what few leaves there were covered in ice, making the leaves look almost glass-like.

In the center, however, was a frozen figure. The ice surrounding Eveline encapsulated her perfectly—if Markus didn't know any better, he'd say that it was an ice sculpture made in her likeness. It captured every loose strand of hair and the way her hair and dress were flowing in accordance with the wind. It was beautiful, yet depressing. Depressing, because Markus knew deep down that it wasn't an ice sculpture. That this was Eveline herself, a frozen statue, never to age, never to live, and never to die.

Markus frowned when he realized that there was no Tarun in sight. His frown deepened when he saw that the wind was growing stronger and that there was a blizzard forming above the village. "Oh, Tarun..." he muttered to himself as he watched the growing blizzard. "What have you done..."

Markus crouched down to the ground, creating a small flame in the palm of his hand. He put the flame against the snow, frowning when he noticed that the flame wasn't doing anything. The snow was persistent, which was odd. It was magic, yes, but Markus was usually able to melt the ice and snow that his brother created. So why was this time any different?

"Markus, there you are!" Father exclaimed as he ran outside. "Have you seen Tarun? That boy is in big trouble for creating a storm like this!"

"I think he ran away..." Markus mumbled as he stood up, grimacing as he saw that his pants weren't wet like they should be. "Father, I need to go after him!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Father exclaimed as he grabbed Markus' arm, preventing the prince from leaving. "You heard the drums. I need to leave for the war, and Yaterra needs a king to look after it, especially now with your brother's shenanigans."

"Tarun wouldn't have done this intentionally," Markus argued, yanking his arm out of his father's grip. "He must've heard the drums. They must've caused him to panic, causing this storm. He must've run away because of this." He gestured to the courtyard. "My baby brother is out there, scared and alone. He needs me to be there for him!" He pleaded.

Father's expression softened. "What do you want me to do, Markus? I'm getting old, I can't handle war and a storm like this at the same time by myself."

"Just...let me go and search for him." Markus pleaded again. "For some reason, the snow won't melt with my magic. The blizzard should help protect the village from Krintis' soldiers, and people would try to avoid going outside because of the snow. If I bring Tarun back, then he can melt the ice and snow he created and Yaterra will be fine."

"But what if he can't?" Father spat more than asked. "What if the village freezes or starves from the blizzard? What if Krintis storms Yaterra and kills the citizens? You have to think like a king, Markus, not like an older brother."

"I am thinking like a king!" Markus argued. "I can't melt the ice and snow with my magic, so the only solution is to find Tarun. And the longer I wait to go search for him, the more Yaterra freezes over. We can't sit here and think about the what-ifs. I wish the situation was better, but this is what we have. Please, Father, let me go search for him. For Yaterra's sake."

Father was silent for several minutes. Markus feared that Father would say no, but surprisingly, he simply sighed. "Fine...I trust you." Father said, his voice nearly silent. "Bring him home, Markus."

Markus nodded. "I will."

~<•>~

Markus trudged through the snow, breathing heavily with every step he took. He had left Yaterra a week ago, after taking a day to pack up supplies, such as food, water, and warm clothes. He currently wore a burgundy sweater that didn't help against the bitter wind, black leggings, and black snow boots. He might as well have worn nothing because the clothes he wore provided just as much warmth as they would've if he ran around the frozen forest naked.

His feet ached with every step he took, his spine felt like it was going to snap into two from his backpack, and he couldn't feel his hands or face. He would create flames to warm him, but since there's very little to no warmth in the air due to the stubborn ice and snow, he has to use most of his internal body heat just to create a small flame, and there was no real purpose in doing that except for setting up campfires.

Markus tripped on a branch (or maybe it was a rock, he wasn't too sure anymore) that was hidden in the snow, and now he was currently laying on the snow face-down. It wasn't exactly comfortable, and it was freezing cold, but he didn't care anymore. He was exhausted from the non-stop walking with little to no rest. Part of him wondered how on earth Tarun managed to make it this far by himself, but to be fair, the young prince didn't bring anything with him when he ran.

"Aw, is the wittle prince exhausted?" Someone—a man—said with a feigned pout in his voice.

Markus managed to push himself off of the snow and looked up at the man above him. The two looked very similar that they could almost be mistaken for brothers. They had the same jet-black hair (except the man's hair was much short than Markus', who had tied his hair in a low ponytail before he left), were about the same height, and had very similar body types (the man clearly had a bit more muscle than the prince, and he was a bit stockier as well, but not by much). The man's eyes were more of a coffee brown instead of Markus' fire amber, and the man's skin was much more sun-kissed than the Prince's. The man was quite handsome, Markus couldn't deny that.

"What's it to you?" Markus asked bitterly.

The man laughed. "Oh, so the little prince does have a bit of a bite! I'm amazed."

Markus felt himself growing irritated. "Look, I don't have time to stay and chat. I'm trying to find my brother, and—"

"Well, if you're trying to find the younger prince, you're going the wrong way." The man said with a teasing grin. "He ran to a cave all the way up there." He pointed to the top of one of the mountains...in the opposite direction.

"How do you know he ran to a cave?" Markus asked him.

The man shrugged. "I don't. But I did see him running towards that mountain, and there is quite a spacious cave up there. Perfect for hiding."

Markus nodded toward the man. "Well, thank you for the help." He said as he started trudging towards the mountain. His legs felt like they were on fire, but it was fine. He could ignore them for a bit longer.

"Hey, wait." The man called out behind him. "Don't you want to rest for a bit? I'm staying at my dad's old hunting cabin nearby. It ain't much, but it's at least shelter from the cold."

Markus shook his head. "No, sorry, I can't. I need to get to Ta—ah!" He exclaimed as he tripped on a rock—or maybe that was his own foot—and landed face-first into the snow again. He groaned as he lifted himself off of the ground again, his cheeks feeling much warmer than they should be. He turned to the man with a bashful smile. "Okay, maybe for a few minutes..."

The man laughed lightly. "Okay. My dad's cabin ain't too far from here, so you think you can walk?"

"Um..." Markus slowly took a couple of steps, his legs screaming at him for every move he made. "Maybe?"

The man scoffed while rolling his eyes and walked closer to Markus—how the man managed to walk in the snow so easily is beyond him—and picked the prince up bridal style. His legs were thankful for the break, and now felt like there were no bones inside them, but the prince felt humiliated.

"Y-you don't have to—" Markus began.

"Shut it." The man interrupted him as he started walking in the direction of the cabin. "You're clearly exhausted, even if you're too stubborn to admit it. I'm a lot of things, Your Highness, but a heartless jackass is not one of them."

Markus cleared his throat. "Well, since we're getting to know each other very well, may I at least know your name?"

The man gave him a sly smile. "Eric. Or 'doofus' if you'd prefer. My sister calls me that so often that it might as well be my second name." When Markus gave him a blank stare, he whistled lowly. "Geez, tough crowd."

Eric carried him for several minutes, though it felt like hours. The woods were silent except for the crunching of the snow every time Eric took a step. The two men didn't say a word, and there were no forest dwellers or birds around. It was rather eerie, in Markus' opinion. After several more minutes of walking, they found themselves at a quaint little cabin in the middle of a clearing. It was a one-story cabin that looked about as large as most of the homes in the village in Yaterra. It was made of wood—perhaps cherry or mahogany wood—with a cobblestone chimney that had smoke coming out of the top. There was a patio in the front, also made of cobblestone, with wooden railings. The roof at the top had dark brownish-red shingles that had a sort of brick-like pattern to them.

"You know, whenever I think of a cabin in the woods, I think of some creepy dilapidated cabin from those horror stories," Markus said. "Not a cute little fairytale cottage."

Eric shrugged the best he could, making a noncommittal sound. "Well, my Ma and Pa used to live here before they passed, so. My dad only made it a hunting lodge recently, like a year or so ago."

Markus hummed as Eric neared the door of the house, which was made out of really dark wood. So dark that it looked almost black.

"Do ya think you could open the door?" Eric said, his accent—Markus couldn't quite place the accent, but it did have some sort of drawl to it—slipping through.

Markus nodded silently as he turned the doorknob—which was left unlocked—and pulled it open as far as he could, which was just far enough for Eric to put his foot in the door. Eric backed up a bit, opened the door more using his foot, and carried Markus inside. They were greeted by a mostly empty living room with a small kitchenette in the corner. There was a couch and a loveseat in the center with a wooden coffee table in front of both and a small wooden end table hidden in the small corner the two made. There was a lamp on top of the end table that was currently on—it didn't provide much light, but enough for that small area—and on the coffee table was a book about various flora and fauna with a vase in the center with a bouquet of flowers. Markus didn't know all of them, but he did know the yellow rose that stood brightly in the center as if to say "look at me".

Eric carried Markus to the couch and practically threw him on there, causing Markus to yelp as he bounced on the cushions. "A little bit of a warning would've been nice!" The prince exclaimed as Eric walked towards the fireplace that was just out of Markus' field of vision.

Eric rolled his eyes as he crouched down in front of the pot that sat in the fireplace that had a meat and vegetable stew boiling inside. He grabbed the wooden ladle that was inside it, scooped some up, and put the scoopful in a wooden bowl. He walked to the kitchenette, bowl in hand, and grabbed a wooden spoon. He then walked over to Markus, who was watching him intently and set the bowl on top of the coffee table, just in the prince's reach. "Eat." He deadpanned, gesturing to the steaming bowl of stew.

Markus eyed it suspiciously, before looking back up at Eric, that cautious look still ever present on his face. Eric didn't blame the prince for being suspicious, quite the opposite. After all, he was the crown prince that was obviously physically exhausted and couldn't run or fight, and he was in the home of some stranger that was trying to feed him something. Eric would be suspicious in Markus' shoes, regardless if he was royalty or not.

Eric scoffed. "It's not poisoned. Here," He ate a spoonful of the stew, making a note to make sure the prince saw him chew and swallow the meat. "Look, I'm still alive!" He said with a grin as he handed the prince the spoon. Markus gave him an odd look before hesitantly taking a bite, his eyes closing as he hummed in bliss.

It was silent for a long while. Neither man knew if it was a few minutes or a few hours. The two simply sat in comfortable silence as they both ate a bowlful of stew (Eric made himself a bowl once he was certain that Markus would continue eating). Once Markus finished eating, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Why?" That was all the prince said.

Eric hummed in confusion. "What?"

"Why are you being so nice?" Markus clarified. "Is it because of my nobility?"

"Partly," Eric said as he set his bowl down on the coffee table. "But honestly, even if you were some guy, I would still help you. I mean, it's freezing outside and you were obviously exhausted."

Markus was silent for a moment, staring at his empty bowl. "...thank you. For helping me." He all but whispered.

Eric gave him a small smile. "Don't mention it."

Markus looked out the window, frowning. It was getting dark, and he was nowhere near the mountain where Tarun was seen at. Eric followed his gaze and hummed contemplatively.

"Tell ya what," Eric said after a while, "How about I take you to the mountain? I know these woods like the back of my hand, and I know the quickest way to get to the cave at the top of the mountain. And I do have a wagon from my childhood that we can put supplies in so that it's not affecting our backs."

"Oh, you don't have to–" Markus interjected.

"I insist." Eric insisted. "If I throw you out there on your own, you'll get turned around and it'll take you so much longer to get there."

Markus nodded silently. "Thank you."

Eric waved him off. "Again, don't mention it. Now, rest. Unfortunately, the guest room was converted into a study years ago, so your two options are to cuddle with me in bed or to sleep on the couch."

Markus felt his face flush a bit as he put the bowl on the table. "I'll take the couch."

"Figured you would," Eric said with a mischievous grin as he stood up from the loveseat. He took the bowls and took them inside the kitchen. He then walked back into the living room and gave the prince a playful salute as he started walking towards a hallway that Markus didn't notice before. "Night, Your Highness!"

~<•>~

It's been a week of nonstop walking. Markus and Eric spent their time talking and getting to know each other. Markus had learned that Eric was a lumberjack, hence why he knew the forest so well (and it would also explain his strength). They had stopped after a couple of days worth of walking to camp since both men were exhausted and hungry.

Right now, it was dark out, and Eric had run off earlier to gather firewood while Markus used his magic to light a campfire (the first time this happened, Eric came back rather amazed that a prince knew how to start a campfire. Markus didn't bother to tell him the truth). Markus hadn't told his newfound friend that he had powers or that Tarun was the one who started this freak storm. He was scared of how the lumberjack would react—what if he tried to kill Markus or Tarun? Or both? He couldn't take that risk. Eric seemed friendly, but fear can drive a man to do horrible things.

Markus had grabbed a couple of sausages from the wagon by the time Eric came back. He held a few twigs, but that was it. He handed the prince a couple and then threw the rest in the fire.

"It's getting harder to find good firewood lately," Eric commented as he sat down beside Markus, taking the twig and sausage that was offered to him. "Almost everything is covered in ice or snow. Gods, I wish we knew what caused this storm. Even the mountains don't get snow this bad in the summer."

Markus kept quiet, and just watched the flames creep up towards the sausage and twig above it. The flames danced as they reached the twig, eating up the wood, and charring the sausage as the flames neared the prince's hand. He wasn't concerned—again, his flames cannot hurt him—but Eric evidently was, because he shoved the twig out of the prince's hand, burning himself in the process. As the flames on the twig died out, Eric yelled at Markus.

"Are you crazy!? You could've gotten hurt!" Eric exclaimed, his own twig and sausage thrown into the flames in surprise once Eric burned himself.

"You're hurt," Markus said as he grabbed a handful of snow. He grabbed Eric's burnt hand, gently opening it to avoid hurting the lumberjack further. "This isn't exactly the best option, it might damage the skin. But we don't have any herbs or ointments and there are no medicinal herbs around, I'm afraid." He said as he slowly added the snow to the burn.

"What do you know about healing wounds?" Eric spat.

"More than you, evidently," Markus said with a mischievous grin. He created minuscule flames on his palm, hot enough to warm Eric's hand to avoid frostbite, but small enough to have little to no light. He couldn't make it obvious that he had powers. He ignored the way Eric stared at him, and instead chose to focus on the burn and the way Eric's calloused hand felt in his. This snow was natural, it had to be because it was melting from the natural warmth Eric's palm held. "Do we have any aloe?"

"Wha–uh, n-no, we don't." Eric managed to get out. "We don't have any, uh, aloe."

Markus sighed in a frustrated manner. He looked around and made a triumphant noise when he spotted a cluster of bright orange berries. He got up and walked towards the cluster, grabbed several of the berries, and then walked to the wagon. He grabbed a bowl and a spoon and started crushing the berries in the bowl with the spoon—almost like a makeshift mortar and pestle. When they became a sort of mush, he walked back to Eric and slathered the mush on the burn.

"It's not the best," Markus said as he finished slathering the mush on the burn, "But it's better than nothing."

"Thank you..." Eric muttered quietly.

Markus gave him a sly grin. "Don't mention it."

~<•>~

It took another two months of traveling before they finally got to the cave. The mouth of the cave had large icicles that were sharp enough to become a makeshift sword, and large enough to act as a makeshift door.

Markus turned to Eric. "Just so you're aware...Tarun and I have magic. Tarun has ice powers—he's the one that caused the freak snowstorm in the middle of the summer. I have fire powers, and I can normally melt his magic, but I guess it's evolving to a point where I can't anymore."

"That explains why you can make a campfire without any of my help," Eric commented with a smile.

"So you're not scared or anything?" Markus asked.

"Scared? Why would I be scared?" Eric asked him as if that was the stupidest question he's heard in years.

"Because my brother and I can destroy all of Yaterra if we wanted to?" Markus asked in the same tone. "Even Father is scared of us, even if he won't admit it."

Eric frowned. "Well, I ain't scared of either of you. And I will make sure both of you return to Yaterra safe and sound."

Markus smiled and hugged his friend. "Thank you."

Eric pat Markus' back. "Don't mention it." He then separated from the prince. "Now, go bring your brother home."

Markus nodded. He turned around, towards the cave. He walked towards the icicles and created a flame in his hand, and brought the flame to one of the icicles. He was relieved to see the ice melt. Once the ice melted enough for him to walk inside the cave, he did.

He created a flame in his hand to act as a sort of torch. The flame was rather small considering that he had to use his body heat and he was currently in a frozen cave, but it provided a large enough light source for him to make his way throughout the cave. It was at that point that Markus wondered if Tarun was even alive after all this time. It has been about two months, after all, and the snow has made it difficult to find animals or plants to eat. And even if the snow wasn't there, Tarun didn't know how to hunt, and he most likely didn't know what plants were safe to eat or not. If Tarun was dead, then that meant that Markus made the trip for nothing, and that meant that the snowstorm was likely to never end.

The further he went into the cave, the colder it got, and the smaller his flame became. The inner rock was covered in ice, and the ice was thicker the deeper he went. After what felt like hours of walking, he finally made it to a large room-like area in the heart of the cave. The ice was so thick that it had a blueish color to it, and it was much colder than it was outside. Markus could feel himself practically freezing from the inside as his tiny flame snuffed out completely. In the center was a large throne-like sculpture made of ice, as well as other sculptures in the surrounding area that vaguely looked like furniture.

"Tarun?" Markus called. "Tarun, are you here?"

"Markus?" His little brother's voice replied, echoing off of the ice. Tarun hesitantly walked out of a corridor attached to the room, and his face lit up once he saw Markus. "Markus!" Tarun ran into his brother's arms and hugged him tightly. "Gods, I missed you!"

Markus laughed lightly as he hugged Tarun just as tightly. "I missed you too." He then separated from his brother. "How have you been? How have you survived this long?"

Tarun giggled. "I've been great! I've been learning how to control my powers, as I'm sure you can see." He gestured to the ice sculptures.

"I'm proud of you," Markus said, giving Tarun a small smile. "But I am here for a reason."

Tarun's previous grins melted into a frown. "...oh, right. Eveline..."

"Not just Eveline," Markus said, frowning. "All of Yaterra. You kind of created a blizzard that's been covering Yaterra in snow for the past two months?"

"Two months!?" Tarun exclaimed. "Was I really gone for that long...?"

Markus nodded solemnly. "You're lucky I convinced Father to let me search for you. He wanted Yaterra to freeze by the sounds of it."

Tarun nodded silently. "Alright, I'll come home. But I don't have any food and I don't think you have any spare supplies–"

"Don't worry," Markus silenced his brother. "Eric has plenty of food for you."

"Eric...?" Tarun asked.

"My friend." Markus clarified. "He brought me here, and he will bring us home."

The two brothers walked out of the cave, side by side. Once Tarun was under the light of day, Markus was surprised at how much Tarun changed. He wore a tunic that was the same color as the thickest ice in the cave, white pants, black boots, and a long grey coat. His blond hair was longer now, almost long enough to put into a low ponytail, and had bright blue streaks throughout. He looked so grown up, and it saddened Markus.

Eric bowed down dramatically toward Tarun. "Your Highness, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

Tarun smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. I'm assuming that you're the Eric that Markus gushed about?"

"Wha-!? I did no such thing--" Markus argued, his face scarlet.

"The one and only!" Eric exclaimed with a grin, ignoring Markus. "Are we ready to go?"

The two princes nodded.

~<•>~

Another two months of traveling had passed, and the three men finally made it back to Yaterra. The snow was up to their waists, which worried the trio. After several minutes of silent concentration on Tarun's part, the storm finally subsided, and the ice and snow were melting with the help of Markus' fire magic. Eric bid the two farewell as he ran to the village to find his mom and sister, and Markus and Tarun ran to the palace. They were greeted by Father, who hugged both of the boys tightly. After a several-minute-long hug, the princes ran to the courtyard.

Markus started melting the ice and snow on the ground and in the trees as Tarun defrosted Eveline. After what felt like an hour's worth of effort, Eveline was finally defrosted. Tarun made an exclamation of achievement as he hugged his friend, spinning her around in the process.

"I'm so sorry!" Tarun finally apologized. "I didn't mean to freeze you or all of Yaterra."

Eveline held his face gently. "Tarun, it's okay!" She gave him a loving smile. "I'm okay, see? And Yaterra's okay. It was an accident, I know that. And I'm sure Yaterra will know that once we explain everything, see?"

Tarun nodded silently. He pushed her forehead against hers, and the two stood like that for a long while.

Markus decided to leave him be. He had a kingdom to take care of, after all.

~<•>~

5,743 words

Again, this was a short story I had to write for my creative writing class. We could choose between a fairytale and a horror story, and I chose fairytale. This is mostly unedited except for some spelling/punctuation errors, and a changed/added word or sentence here and there.

If it's not obvious enough, this is partially inspired by Scott Smajor's (Dangthatsalongname on YT) roleplay on Empires S1, which was heavily inspired by Frozen, which was a retelling of The Snow Queen. I took inspiration from all three.

Tarun being in a cave was inspired by The Snow Queen, the general idea of Tarun having ice powers and creating a storm and freezing his GF bc of a panic attack was inspired by Frozen, and Markus of all people was inspired by the RP.

Eric is obviously this story's Kristoff, but better. His personality was based on Scott's personality, oddly enough, and Markus' personality was based on Jimmy's (Solidarity's) personality. This wasn't intentional, and I'm aware that they're Youtubers/Streamers, but I had to get the inspo from somewhere.

This story took about 2 weeks to write I think, where I wrote for like 40-ish minutes every day from Mon-Fri bc I was in class and could just turn my brain off and write without any distractions. Ngl, it was really nice, hence why this short story turned into a novella (a short novel/a long short story), and is nearly 6K words lol.