Chapter 2

Son of the Hallowed King

“The stars are alive, for they are the Children of the Universe. Be wary not, for they will watch over you,” the voice of a woman echoed gently to the small child in her lap. The small boy gazed in sleepy awe at the woman as she told her story. “And sometimes, the stars send gifts from the universe; some of which were miracles, others were… not so much. You could always tell what type of gift was sent by the color of the trail.”

“I remember! I remember! If it's blue, then dreams come true, if it's red, we may be dead!” The boy perked up quickly with a smile so bright he could outshine the sun.

The woman giggled at his honest response and hugged him close, which he reciprocated with little arms reaching around her waist. “That’s right, Geddeon. I see that your training with your father is going well.”

“We learned… about stars… ” He yawned, lightly kicking his little feet. As the woman peered down at the small child, she silently noted the exhaustion setting in for the boy. As she shifted the child in her arms in preparation to return him to his bed, he piped up.

“Will another gift come one day?” Geddeon asked.

“Yes, I do believe so, little prince.” She answered back.

With the comforting warm night air and a long story as an aid, the boy succumbed to slumber.

The soft ring of a bell broke the silence, snapping Geddeon awake from his deep trance. Returning to reality, he realized that he was facing the sky and the stars. The man shifted around to survey his surroundings; he was standing in a forest clearing. The familiar warm breeze whipping through the air was perfumed with the alluring scent of warmth and spice, like cinnamon. It was a wide-open field of Vermillion Germanium flowers with dark trees rustling around the border, filling the quiet night air. Though, with enough focus, Geddeon could still hear it in the distance.

The quick steps of small feet on dirt and the light huffs of a child.

‘Good. He should be close enough.’

As the light sound of dead leaves and stray twigs crackled faster in his direction, he sprinted swiftly towards the sound, careful to keep his steps light. The man easily closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds, and extended his bony hand until he clasped a hold of something. The crisp fabric of a blue shirt collar.

The child in his grasp immediately tried to stand completely still, but was still shaking. 

‘Is he cold?’ Geddeon suspected. Figuring that the chilly night air was the cause of the boy’s shaking, he closed his eyes. Suddenly, a gold flame sparked on his head, until glowing horns grew in its place, rounding over his short dreadlocks. They flickered like fire, even in their glowing state.

Slowly, the man leant down to the boy’s level, removing his hand from the child’s collar. He could see the child shaking harder and slightly hunched over, almost as though he was preparing for the worst.

‘Oh…I’m scaring him! Shit!’ Geddeon panicked for a moment before he had another thought. He softly patted the boy’s head to display that he was not in danger. “Are you, by chance, Alejandro Ramirez?”, the man questioned; his voice rumbling through the darkness of the forest. ‘Oof, Dial it back.’

The boy flinched when he spoke. He didn’t speak, but he did finally stop shaking. When the child nodded his head, the man felt a shift in his soul, feeling his shoulders relax and drop for the first time in the last hour. His “Alert Mode” switch had flipped off, and now he could relax.

He found who he was searching for.

Geddeon observed the child further now that he was in clear view. The child couldn’t be any older than 6 or 7, and the modestly handmade bag of toys on his waist certainly supported that theory. His tunic and pants were desaturated blues and greens, so it was understandable why no one else could have located him, due the swift setting of the sun and the density of the Forgotten Woods.

Realizing how terrifying his voice was to the child initially, this time the man lowered his tone and tried to speak as softly as he could so he wouldn’t scare the child into shock. “Forgive me for startling you, but this part of the forest is off-limits. There are dangerous creatures in this area that could hurt you.”

The child slowly turned his head towards the light, and met face with the dark skinned man. There was just enough space between them for him to not feel cramped or threatened. Both of their faces were bare to see.

Geddeon watched the child move and furrowed his brow bone while confusingly shuffling his shoulders. “Does my appearance frighten you? I apologize, but this is one of the few ways that I can see, with how dark it currently is.”

The boy spoke again, but this time he was able to muster enough strength to speak. “No… You’re not scary.” Alejandro whispered through dry lips. Then he continued. “Are you going to kill me?”

“What!? No! I’m one of the guardians of the Autumnal Ruins Realm Gate. I’m helping guide the Hallions over to the festival!” Geddeon’s face crunched in surprise. He quickly held his hands up, revealing empty, calloused palms and fingers. “What kind of ops do you have, kid?”

He didn’t answer the question, but the ease of conversation was enough to calm the kid down, at least visibly. His shoulders drooped in relief and he signed a shaky breath. The man allowed him to take a moment to breathe, opening the floor to be asked anything else. After a quiet moment, the child spoke again, and clearly. “Are we lost?”

”No, I know the way back, but why did you run off from the group?” The man started. He wasn’t going to scold the child; he just wanted to understand his mindset.

The child clutched the hem of his shirt in shame and looked down at his bare dirty feet. “I’m sorry. I wanted to get closer to see the lights better,” he muttered.

Geddeon tilted his head to the side, his brow bone furrowing under the flickering light. “Wait, lights?” He asked.

“Yeah. I saw these really bright square lights and I followed them because I thought that it was the right way, but it got dark and I couldn’t see the way back.” Alejandro admitted. “I tried to find and follow the river, just like mama told me.”

The man reached out and patted the boy’s curly head. In his youth, he too, marveled at the mesmerizing Mid-Autumn Festival lanterns from the Westernmost continent, Lapis Solene. The festival was usually during the month of Septembris, and the finale of the variously sized bright lanterns flying in the dark night sky were to finish off the celebrations. They were just bright enough to glitter the sky with thousands of little lights, until their flames went out and the land was steeped into darkness.

What this child saw were not those lights, but something else. 

Even to a very skilled soldier, it was almost impossible to navigate this forest at night, so he couldn’t blame the boy for quickly losing direction. Though, he was surprised by the young boy’s survival potential; to know to follow the river when lost in a forest at such a young age, and to retain that knowledge was rare within the realms. A skill that was taught at secondary schools, or to rookie soldiers and reconnaissance operatives.

The man shook his head in amazement, his short dark dreadlocks moving in kind. “I understand your excitement, but next time, please stay with the group.” He spoke as he held out his hand to the child. “Unless you can survive a night in this forest without any protection, you cannot be permitted to enter this area without a guide or guardian. Now, I was asked by a woman named Yamira to find you and bring you back to her, unharmed. You are unharmed, correct?”

Alajandro quickly scanned himself over, and returned his gaze to the man, nodding back. “I’m OK, but are you sure my mama asked you to find me?”

The man tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “Yes. Is something wrong with that?”

”Well, it's just that… I know mama doesn’t know you, because I’m with her all the time. I’ve never seen you before, and mama told me to never talk to strangers.” 

“Your mother is very smart and you take well from her.” Geddeon confirmed quietly. The boy was small, but exceptionally intelligent. It would be difficult to gain his trust, but the man had an idea.

He held out his hand, lit aflame with the same golden fire on his head. Suddenly, the flame fizzled out, leaving a small black item in his hand. Cautiously, the boy took a step forward to view the item closely.

It was a physical insignia; decorated with a vibrant colored pumpkin with black and peach flowers over a wooden frame. As his eyes gazed over the item, Alejandro began to remember one specific story, told by his older sister; The Family of Death that wore sugar skull masks blessed with colorful flames.

It was the official crest of Los Muertos. The Seal of All Hallows Royalty.

By displaying his crest, Geddeon had revealed his status and association with the Royal Family: His status as a Fright Knight and his association with a family of rampant delusions and consistent failures. 

”I was tasked to find you by Los Reyes. If you come with me, I can bring you to your mother.” Geddeon said, reassuringly.

The man watched as the gears turned in the boy’s head. After a moment and a deep breath, Alejandro mustered all the courage he had and grabbed ahold of Geddeon’s hand with his own clammy hand.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?” the child questioned. Final reassurance, just in case.

With a soft smile and a light grip of the child’s hand, the man nodded. “You have my word.”

Hand in hand, the boys walked through the forest in silence. Geddeon took notice of Alejandro’s sudden interest in the wooded area around them, but remained silent. His own mind drifted as he looked down to his empty left hand, silently reminding himself of the Third Tenant of Knighthood; To safeguard the wellbeing of the citizens of the Autumnal Ruins.

For years, he tried to live solely by that tenant. For centuries though, the people living in the Autumnal Ruins have been neglected and forgotten by the very institute that claims its superiority. Geddeon wanted to be strong for his people, and he made it his being. Even the mere thought of the Los Muertos Royal Family somehow came with negative connotations about him. Even still, the child continued walking with him, almost without a care in the world. The world was truly perplexing.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Alejandro cleared his throat to speak.

“…Have you always had horns?” He asked. Geddeon glanced down at the child, surprised by his question, but chuckled nonetheless. Children were the most perplexing of them all.

“Yeah. I was born with them.” The man wiggled his head from side to side to emphasize their sturdy attachment to his head. 

“What are they like? Do they feel weird?” The child perked up with more questions.

“Not really. It feels natural, like your ears.” Geddeon trailed off in his speech. 

“Huh…” The child trailed off. Then he piped up again. “Are you a Fright Knight?”

”Yup, Top ten of my class.” The man admitted.

“Whoa! My sister, Yasmin, said that only the strongest of warriors of All Hallows can become one. So when I grow up, I want to be a Fright Knight!” Alejandro proclaimed proudly, holding his tiny fist up to the sky. The child’s excitement was sudden, but reassuring.

Geddeon couldn’t resist smiling at the young child’s antics, and chuckled softly. But for the briefest of moments, the man eyed the child carefully. When he was summoned to help find Alejandro, he did not see any other child, nor any seemingly related female, young or older, next to the wailing woman. 

The woman was alone, and seemingly only worried about her son.

The man formulated a multitude of theories, before offering insight to the boy. "I believe that you can. Just know that the training for Knighthood is very intense. You would have to train at the Academy until you graduate. You would have to leave your mom and sister at home.”

Alejandro started to speak but stopped short as he continued to walk in deep thought, lowering his hand from the man’s hand. Then, he looked at the man. “How long?”

”13 Autumns, and you have to live at the academy, too.” The man said.

”That’s a long time… What is the training like?”

”Well, most of the time, it’s pretty…rough. You'll mostly be training from early dawn to late in the evening.” Geddeon started, “Then you have downtime; where you can do whatever you want as long as it‘s not illegal. Eat, sleep, hang out with friends, walk around All Hallows, whatever you want. Once every month, those that don’t live in the city can go home and visit their families.”

”Do we get paid?” Alejandro asked quickly. The man smirked down at the child. His eagerness of knowledge was intriguing.

”Not only do you get paid, but all of your basic needs will be free, and if you do well in the academy, you can move your family into All Hallows. For 13 years, though, you’ll be away from your family, and you have to be at least 18 to begin training for Knighthood. Is that something you still want?”

The boy walked quietly with his thoughts, and Geddeon remained silent. It was a good question, and the boy mused deep into thought. But before the child could speak up to answer, Geddeon had stopped short and tugged the boy’s shirt collar back before he could touch the stone steps. 

Alejandro shook his head of all thoughts and became very alert. He hadn’t realized how relaxed he had become, nor did he realize that he had let go of Geddeon’s hand and was walking ahead.

Geddeon set his gaze on black stone stairs and followed them upwards, to a tall construct that stood before them; A dark stone arch and large black lanterns hanging from the corners of the pavilion. It was daunting to look at from below. He broke his gaze away from the top of the structure and moved to a glimmer of light above the stairs. The glow trailed to an enormous mirror, without a frame, embedded in the bark of a magnificent Maple tree, with falling leaves flickering like stray embers.

The child’s eyes then met the mirror peeking over the stairs, but couldn’t see fully. “Where are we?” The boy questioned, his ever diligent eyes darting around the pavilion.

“This is the gate to Remisia, where the festival is. Once we pass through the mirror, your family should be on the other side.” Geddeon stated. He pointed to their reflections in the mirror. “I stopped you because if you try to go through without me, you’ll turn into dust.”

The boy’s eyes widened, startled by the new information. “Oh.” The man walked forward until he reached the top of the platform and the mirror in the tree. Alejandro then slowly walked up the stairs behind him, watching the dark vines wrap around the dark cobblestone banisters as he moved. As he stood in awe, Geddeon spoke up. 

“Don’t touch the vines. Come along.”

Alejandro snapped out of his trance and with a nod, moved closer to the reflective gate. The child blinked at his reflection, before he looked over to Geddeon’s, surprised to discover that the man had been truthful about being granted a Fright Knight title. Geddeon looked into the mirror, reflecting an exhausted, dark-skinned man with tightly bound dreadlocks decorated with golden bands, dark bags underneath sharp emerald green eyes, and standing in a high-necked formal jacket emblazoned with orange ornaments and embellishments paired with formal dark slacks.

Unsurprised by the exhaustion reflected in his face, Geddeon tapped on the glass until it rippled vigorously like water.

Confused by the mirror, the boy spoke up. “But how do we get through it?”

“By walking through it.” The man said simply. He, once again, held out his hand to the child. “Are you ready?” 

Alejandro nodded briskly with an unsure smile. He took the man’s hand, a deep breath, and with Geddeon as the lead, the boys walked through the portal.

When they stepped over the threshold to the other side of the gate, the boy was nearly blinded by the sudden bright lights of various colors, even through his closed eyes. Once their visions settled into view, Geddeon watched as Alajandro’s cheeks rose with an ecstatic smile. The lights and colors of the Dia De Los Muertos Festival dazzled the road,the scents of roasted meats, fried vegetables, and freshly poured fruit juices filled the night air. The night was alive with children running around playing and elders laughing and drinking together. Older children were dancing at the center of the square, with music from drums and guitars of all kinds. All the excitement of the party was cut by the sharp wail of a woman who approached quickly. 

Before the two knew it, the boy was snatched from the man’s grip and hoisted up into a tight, familiar embrace. “¡¡Oh, mi bebé!!”

“¡¡Mamá!!” Alejandro was startled, but tears welled quickly in his eyes. He cried, bursting into a heavy flow of tears, muffled by her festive pink shawl. The man could understand. After all, the child was alone in the dark for the better part of 2 hours. They sat there momentarily, simply crying and holding each other, the woman’s loud wails calling over a small crowd. 

As Geddeon watched with quiet curiosity, looked on with equal parts understanding and, as much as he would never admit it, a little envy.

When she placed him back down on the ground, the woman leaned down to the boy’s height and shook him back and forth. After a second, she stared at the boy sternly. “¡No vuelvas a hacer eso nunca más!” She voiced sternly to the child. Alejandro could only look down at the ground in shame.

“Lo siento, mama…” he said quietly. The teary-eyed woman’s eyes darted around the boy’s mellow expression. She watched the boy carefully, huffed in relief, and glanced back over to Geddeon. 

“¡Gracias, señor. Muchas gracias!” She said gratefully.

“No gracias necesarias. Solo estoy haciendo mi trabajo, señora.” The man smiled at the mother. 

Silently the woman shook her head, as she knelt to hug her boy again, a quiet sob of concern ripped through her frame as she released the panic that had consumed her. After another moment, Yamira briefly looked up from her son, wiping the fresh tears from her face. She barely was able to stifle the gasp that had escaped from her. Geddeon’s gaze followed hers to see what had caused this reaction and turned around, his eyes widening briefly. 

“¡Mis Reyes!”

Behind him stood two men of almost equal stature, the first was dressed in black formal attire, a long formal coat covering most of his frame with hints of a dark red waistcoat peeking from underneath, the only other color being the thin orange pauldrons that adorned his shoulders and the light orange cravat he wore. His face carried the creases of smiles past and worries abated, even his yellow green eyes shone with mischief and regality. 

His compatriot, while less formal, seemed to capture the spirit of the festival more, a deep purple jacket emblazoned with intricate patterns across the arms and lapel. His attire screamed of flamboyance from the red bandana under his trilby to the golden disks that circled his neck. He too, had a face that reflected his jovial nature.

To the woman holding her child, these men were the renowned great rulers of the realm; the King of All Hallows himself - Chamiabac Los Muertos, and his brother, the Lord of the Forgotten Dead and Guardian De Muerte; Xibalba los Lobos.

These men were two titanic figures of the Royal Palace of All Hallows, beings whose magnanimous bearing were the ideals of legend, and the very shapers of the realm themselves.

But to Geddeon, they were-

“Joven, Informe”, the smooth baritone of Xibalba cuts through the festive night air. Geddeon swallowed unconsciously, before falling to his knee in a bow. His head lowered just enough to carefully watch the King’s mannerisms as his fire dimmed ever so slightly.

“Mis disculpas, Su Excelencia. Tengo la situation controla-” he stopped short, watching the King's hand raise subtly to pause his speech.

“Rise my son, and at ease,” Chamiabac said warmly. His words caused the woman to whip her head from the two kings to the knight before her, her mouth agape as she could only stare at the young man. While she dared not to speak in front of the rulers out of respect, her eyes spoke clearer than any voice.

Geddeon stood up from his kneel, the bright, gold flame flickering on his head. Slowly, the flame in his horns began to dim and smolder itself, replacing it with a thick smokey red hue. His own green eyes were closer in color to his uncle than his father’s, though the young man's face was a near-spitting image of Chamiabac. 

“¡Mi Reyes!” The woman muttered quickly before releasing her son from her grasp and kowtowing to the men, stunned into silence. Yamira couldn’t fathom the idea that the Crown Prince of All Hallows was the very knight who went to search for her son. This would be a debt that she could never pay back in return. She grabbed her son’s hand and pulled him to a bow.

Geddeon eyed the men carefully before standing at attention to speak again. “The situation is handled. The child was near the south bank path when I found him. He was looking for the lanterns to make his way back, but he couldn’t see through the darkness of the forest and kept moving southwest. He is relatively uninjured, minus a few scrapes from the bushes.”

Xibalba nodded at his nephew and glanced back at the mother and child. “Very well done, knight. And quite astute for one so young. It sounds as if he was instinctively walking with the water.”

The younger man nodded curtly. “Yes, he possesses some survival instincts, quite interesting for one so young.”

Chamiabac looked on before whipping around with a bright smile. A startling sign of a wild machination forming from the All Hallows King. With every scheme he designed came devastation from the opposite party involved. The average person would list it as an inconvenience, though it was a constant curse for the young prince.

“A survivalist! Now that is quite the future profession. Just imagine the great deeds he could do in the army, Why, If he hones it well, it would be a great boon to the Fright Knights.”

Geddeon felt his left eye twitch with his father’s comment. 

Xibalba watched his nephew carefully and leaned closer to Chamiabac. “Come now Brother, we have no right to assume the child’s future profession. You of all people should know that.” He whispered.

“I jest, I jest. Of course, I am aware, dear brother,” The All Hallows King patted the man’s shoulder briskly, his smile dimming ever so slightly. “T’was merely a thought, not a suggestion.” He turned from his brother to his son, waving his hand nonchalantly. “And at ease, knight. You’re not being interrogated here.”

On command, Geddeon relaxed his shoulders. He waited patiently for the next order, much to his chagrin.

“You have the rest of the night off, knight. Enjoy the festivities,” Chamiabac said quietly before he patted his son’s shoulder and turned around to the crowd behind the group. With a sharp clap of his hands, he easily captured the crowd’s attention.

“Everyone, I appreciate your concern. All is well tonight, so please worry not and return to your regular activities.” The King spoke with kind authority to the crowd. And as if on queue, they quickly dispersed into the stalls and the overall larger crowd of passersby, all with the same general thought.

This was not the night to try and anger a King. 

Xibalba lent over to Geddeon’s ear. “Your annoyance is showing.”

Geddeon sighed, exhausted. “I apologize. I’ll try to control it.”

The Forgotten King shook his head. “It is not your fault, niño. I understand.” He then walked back to Chamiabac, clearing his throat. “Shall we continue our tour, brother?”

”Ah yes, we shall!” The regal man said jovially. He looked over to the still bowing woman and child. “You both, please stand and enjoy the rest of the festival!”

Yamira flinched at the voice calling into her direction. Cautiously, she lifted her head to view their feet, as practiced since her youth out of respect. Even when ordered, she dared not move lest she suddenly anger the man. She cleared her dry throat as best she could. To speak to the Kings out of turn could result in death, but she had to take the risky gamble.

“¡Gracias, Mi Reyes! Siempre estaré en deuda contigo.” She said as clearly and quickly as she could. Alejandro glanced over to his mother, confused and slightly concerned at her current expression, before returning back to the Kings.

Just how much power did they hold?

Chamiabac nodded to the woman before he nodded to the prince. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, my son.”

“Yes, father, you and Tío as well.” Geddeon nodded surely, faking his smile as best he could. He watched the Kings disappear into the crowd, then with a sigh of exhaustion, he looked over to Yamira and Alejandro, who had not moved an inch in fear of angering the remaining man. The knight bowed his head. “Excuse me, I must be on my way.”

”Gracias, Alteza. No sé cómo pagarte alguna vez.” Yamira spoke softly, the courage to speak to royalty further wanning. 

The Prince, noting her expression, raised his hand placatingly and he shook his head. “Como dije, no es necesario. Pero disfruté el resto de la velada en paz”. Bowing slightly, he moved past the mother and son, and towards the center of the town. 

The woman and child watched the Kings leave, entranced by their Royal Family’s charisma and chivalry, until Alejandro’s attention was taken by a tug on his shoulder. He turned his head to the right to see a young woman, around 13 years old, with white flowers in her long curly hair and an orange and pink dress, embroidered with yellow flowers. Her hair flowed like wisps in the nonexistent wind, and if anyone looked closer, they would notice that she did not have a shadow.

She crouched down to his level, glancing at him with a small smile. “Did you get lost?”

Alejandro smiled back at the girl, his eyes brightening under the colorful lights. “Yeah, but it wasn’t so bad.” He whispered.

The girl's gaze then fell to his bare forearm, where she poked the skin right above a small bleeding scratch. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, just a few scrapes.” He shrugged off in pride but the smile beamed brighter. “But, it was really cool! When I get older, I'll bring you with me, Yasmin!”

The girl giggled and ruffled the boy's curly hair, though not a single strand moved. “Only if you can beat me in a race.”

Geddeon watched the children speak from afar, smiling softly. The woman would have never noticed the young girl at her son’s side, proving his initial theory; the girl was dead, and had been for a while. She must have been waiting for them by the Remisia Realm Gate, and had become anxious. She was quite a diligent older sister, by alerting the Kings’ of the boy's disappearance. 

And there it was again. That sting of jealousy of life as an only child. The love of a mother, unconditional in all rights. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head from those thoughts, walking away from the warm family. He had never experienced such a closeness.

He passed miles of various food stalls, excited running children, cackling elders playing cards, and awe-struck middle-aged women who gossiped just quietly enough to each other to not alert the most handsome, eligible bachelor in the kingdom of their presence. In truth, anywhere Geddeon walked throughout the festival came an array of gorgeous young women, practically throwing themselves at his feet. Though he was bearing witness to the efforts of his privilege, he could help but inwardly groan.

Of course they were enamored with him. Everyone believes him to be different from his family.

And he was.

The Prince kept moving until he arrived at a massive maple tree, with the trunk carefully carved into the likeness of a phoenix. The leaves that fell looked like glittering embers breaking off from a magnificent blaze, and the mirror that sat embedded into the tree shined a bright orange-red, the colors of a gate that the man knew well.

He walked up the stairs to the mirror, tapped 6 times, watching the reflective surface ripple before it started to dim and reflect a new view: one of a foyer in a grand castle. Once the mirror stopped rippling and the view was clear enough, he stepped through it. The other side of this gate was much darker in contrast to the bright lights and sounds of the festival. Though, the quietness of the foyer of the All Hallows Castle was immediately calming to his nerves and his spirit.

While he would have loved to “join in the festivities” as his father had suggested, Geddeon knew that his energy had begun to wear down. He strolled quietly up the black marble staircase, decorated with beautiful portraits and elegant gifts of the Upper Class. Centuries of All Hallows history littered the high walls of the inner palace, but the man didn't bother to look around. He knew these halls well enough to not have to pay attention to where he moved. Every time, the same path: up the stairs, make a left, up more stairs, make a right. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallways as he made his way to the third floor, an area restricted to only the Kings and Prince. Before he knew it, he had arrived at the door to his quarters. It, too, was emblazoned with obsidian and gold, much like the rest of the castle's decorative interior. He opened the door and walked into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Geddeon sighed a breath of relief. Though minor in difficulty, he knew that his completed duties for the day were major in terms of keeping his father satisfied. The exhausted prince surveyed his spacious room; the bed was still made with not a single hair on it, the fireplace was lit and warming the room, and his desk was still disheveled with important documents and Magick volumes. 

Just staring at the desk sparked new stress for him, even if he dared not touch any more papers in the room, he was “free for the evening” after all. Instead, he moved to the open window leading out to a wide balcony. He leaned on the decorative railing and took an exhausted deep breath, overlooking the dark city and clear night sky.

Tonight, the people of All Hallows may celebrate with their loved ones in Remisia, but tomorrow, their everyday struggles will resume, like usual. Temperantia will keep turning, whether they like it or not.

And it didn't help that his father, in a time of absolute peace, wouldn't do more to assist those very same struggling people. The most he could muster is throwing lavish festivals, falsely reassuring the people that he is helping. Instead of festivals, instead of parties, the people beg for basic needs: food, water, shelter, medicine, Support! 

These were his people. These were their people! Yet all the prince could do was try to provide for them with little to no resources, every single day.

It infuriated Geddeon, to no end.

He lowered his head onto his arms propped on the ledge of the balcony. To solve one issue was to invite several more, and the pressure for Royal support had undoubtedly been addressed numerous times over the years: by other officials, by the citizens, by himself and his uncle. He stood musing to himself about the various issues of his citizens, until he was snapped from his thoughts when something fluttered past his eye.

Something cold, small, and white.

A snowflake.

‘No… not now…’ Geddeon thought as he frantically turned around. No one stood before him, but the flakes turned flurries trailed upwards to the sky. The Prince followed the trail to the roof of his window balcony.

And there she was.

An elf - a Cold Elf - with espresso complexion, dark hair tied into a precise upscale bun, and a recognizable powder blue cloak floated quietly on the edge of the roof, gazing into the night sky. And he watched the ominous clouds begin to roll in from the west.

‘You bitch…’

Geddeon’s right eye twitched again as he exhaled, frustrated. “Now is not the time, Frost.”

“I never asked, Your Highness. I'm not here for you. I honestly didn’t expect you to be here tonight. Don’t you have a party to be attending?” Her gaze never moved from the sky, but her tone was as cold as the atmosphere around them.

“That’s none of your business. Why the hell are you at my castle?” He glared at the woman on his roof, but he would take no action until she explained herself, if she chose to explain herself.

“You know why. This is the best view in the Autumnal Ruins to begin my path. I am doing my job, after all.” She said simply, her gaze never moving from the present darkening sky. Storm clouds were rolling in faster than expected.

“It's Dia de Los Muertos. Can't you find another time to ‘do your job’? Let the people celebrate without the fear of pneumonia.”

The elf finally shifted her gaze from the cloudy sky to the Prince under her feet, calculating Glacier blue eyes met enraged Emerald green. “I think you and I both know I can't do that. Mrs. Claus wouldn't stand for it.”

‘She wants me to beg for it…’ the Prince thought, his anger nearing to a boiling point. He wasn't in the mood to barter with the Wynter Spirit; he only wished for peace and quiet. With a deep sigh, he momentarily quelled his rage. He stood quietly for a moment before he groaned under his breath.

“...Fine… If you have to do your job, then can you at least leave Remisia alone?” Geddeon asked, almost pleadingly.

Her ice blue eyes shined with a conflicted light, “Hm…That will cost a favor, Your Highness. Are you willing to part with one?” She said, smugly.

His right eye twitched once again. 

‘...Quell the rage…’

“...What do you want?”

“A free favor, one that I can use on anything; anytime, anywhere.” The elf said.

Geddeon’s eyes squinted in suspension. “Why extort a favor from me? Why not my father or my uncle?” he questioned.

“I could, but I'm not talking to either of them right now, am I? I'm here, talking to you, and getting ready to do my job and lay the first snowfall of the season. But if there's a problem with that, then I-”

“Fine! One free favor from the Prince of All Hallows! Ya happy!?” The man said sharply, feeling his blood burn with anger.

‘Quell the rage’

The elf smirked slyly. “Ecstatic…That's more than enough. Good evening, Your Highness. Always fun to frustrate you.” As soon as she finished speaking, the air swirled around her frame with snow and hail before disappearing into loose snowflakes.

Geddeon pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply in annoyance, trying to silence the rage in his head. He turned back to All Hallows, only to find the clouds above releasing a heavy snowfall, covering the city in a blanket of white. The Prince could only prop his head on the balcony railing in exhaustion.

‘Tomorrow is another fucking day…’