The Witch of Frost

Noah tried to see if Valerie was joking, but her face was as impassive and serious as ever. "No way."

"Why is that?"

"Aren't witches supposed to look like towering monsters with rows of sharp teeth? Aren't they supposed to kill everyone they saw and hang their entrails?"

Valerie frowned in distaste. "Only Witches on a rampage will attack anything on sight, and none of us will be that disgusting. Perhaps you mutts love to sink yourself in blood and dirt but we conduct ourselves above that. We prefer more thorough methods of destruction."

Noah insisted, "I don't believe it! You look like a mortal human."

"I want to turn you into a chunk of ice but that will defeat my previous effort of saving you." Valerie stood up. Ice began to spread under her feet, freezing the floor. The temperature dived into the freezing cold as if he was standing naked in a snowstorm.

"Wait, hold on. I believe you!" Noah shrunk into himself, futilely trying to conserve heat.

Valerie merely stood there like an ice statue. Her golden eyes glowing like the sun but with none of its warmth. Frost began to grow on Noah's hair and breathing became painful. Noah closed his eyes, berating himself for his stupid mouth. Just when he thought he was going to die, the cold vanished.

"After this lesson, I expect you to be more obedient," Valerie said. Noah could only nod. Valerie left him to ponder over his situation.

Noah stayed still for a long moment. His brain was unable to process the fact that he had survived a confrontation with a witch. Noah let out a ragged breath and collapsed. The ice which had frozen some part of the bed had slowly thawed, leaving patches of dampness. Noah ordered himself to watch his words the next time he was in front of that witch. Noah closed his eyes trying to have the rest that his body needed. Yet his mind kept replaying the terrifying moment the witch unleashed her power. With such might, it was no wonder that witches were called World's Calamities.

But that power… if he could have it, then he would be able to avenge his family. Noah clenched his fist as those bloody memory resurfaced in his mind. The blood painted the palace's floor. His father's dead body. Those cold eyes pierced his heart. Were those years of friendship all lies? Did Randall approach him only to seize the throne? If that's true then it would be Noah's fault that all of this happened. If he hadn't taken pity on Randall that day. If he wasn't so naive and stupid then his family would still be alive…

Noah's throat tightened and tears began to poll in his eyelids. He choked back his cry. This was not the place to show weakness. He couldn't die yet until he had his revenge. And so, Noah fell into a restless sleep filled with blood and despair.

***

Valerie rested on her couch. The book in her hands was left unread as she heard the pitiful cry of the werewolf. She thought that his kind was more prideful than this. To be reduced into a whimpering puppy, she couldn't understand how many feared the werewolves. Then again, she had not felt fear for many years. Only rage remained in her heart as she walked the path of revenge, and now after everything was settled there was a hollowness in her heart.

Valerie sighed and put down her book. It was another gift that Aaron gave her in his pursuit to inspire her to pick up a hobby. It was a tale of a young boy fighting against comical villains in order to seize his dream and save the world. This type of protagonist was the farthest thing she could relate to. She was not a hero but a villain. She didn't want to save the world and instead had wanted to destroy it until a while ago. Such naivete and optimism would have sickened her if she had read it years ago but now there was only emptiness. She couldn't even muster a small fit of rage. Back then she had constantly fought and raged against many things. Yet now even against that werewolf's insolence, she could only give a half-hearted warning. She had gone too soft.

Valerie clicked her tongue and closed her eyes. She might as well sleep. She descended into that familiar cold memory. In front of her was a crying girl. She was hiding behind a tree as she watched her home burned to ash. A group of witch hunters were dragging out her parents and pushed them to the ground. They laughed and cursed as they stepped on the two mages. They couldn't fight back for they were weak and could only use their magic to nurture their corps. But it didn't matter to those witch hunters. In their eye, any mages were potential witches and they must be eradicated without mercy. They didn't care if those mages never hurt anyone and only wanted peace. A witch hunter raised her sword and beheaded the girl's mother. The girl screamed. The group immediately noticed and attacked the child, pushing her to the ground.

The father begged, "No! Leave her alone! She's just a child! Please!" But his cries fell into deaf ears.

A witch hunter laughed. "A witch is a witch. Better kill it before it becomes a threat."

"No please!"

"Father!" the girl cried out.

Another witch hunter said, "How noisy." He raised his blade and beheaded the father. His eyes were still locked to his beloved child even as it fell to the ground.

"NO!" the girl screamed.

The witch hunters laughed even harder.

"Enough," a stern witch hunter said. "Let's finish this quickly." She raised her weapon preparing to kill the last vermin.

"Why? Why? WHY!?" The girl rejected her fate. Why should her parents die? Why should she die? They had done nothing wrong. A blast of magical power exploded destroying everything in its path. There was nothing left but snow and frost. Not even her own home was spared.

Valerie watched the destruction without emotion. This scene had haunted her endlessly for years. Horror and sorrow had long been wiped out. Her rage had also been sated. There was nothing left but the empty coldness. Perhaps it was her fate to turn into the very essence of her power; cold and hollowness.

Valerie resurfaced from that dream. There was a distant shuffling sound from the room where the werewolf resided. She waited until the pup gathered enough bravery to show his face. Surprisingly, it merely took several minutes. The young man stood in front of her like a stiff plank of wood. His eyes roamed the room before reluctantly settled on her.

"I-I have an offer to make," the werewolf said.

Valerie tilted her head.

"A pact… make a pact with me."