Frost's Eternal Promise

The Karstein woman killed people. She killed and killed again.

Even when asked why, there was no clear answer.

'Just... because that's how I was born.'

Born to reign over lowly worms crawling in the dirt.

Life was like that—no right answers, as usual. You just went with the flow, carried by inertia.

Ten years, a hundred, a thousand passed. The worms trembling in caves had gathered under one banner, and her domain began to shrink bit by bit.

It was around then.

On the day the fire dragon devoured the kingdom, and red banners fluttered atop the massive wall.

The woman was defeated.

"...Pfft. Impressive. I thought you were just lowly worms."

"... "

"What are you waiting for? Kill me. I'm your enemy, right? The worst witch and all that nonsense you were shouting."

The man who had bested her said nothing. He simply knelt to meet her eyes.

"What will be left after you kill me?"

"Who knows. A new witch will be born, inheriting my power."

"Then it'll just repeat the same thing, won't it? Better to end it here."

His gaze pierced her, depthless. He declared himself the Empire's Swordmaster.

"Ulrich Karstein. Grand Duke of the North."

An out-of-place introduction. And instead of a sword, he offered a single flower. The woman blinked in stunned confusion.

"...Are you an idiot?"

Seasons turned, and the flowers he brought formed a garden. She hurled curses wildly to drive him away, but he wouldn't budge.

Ten more winters passed, and the frost melted into spring.

"Is this right?"

"Euterpe. Smile."

The woman had become the fool she'd once mocked. Dressed in pristine white, bouquet in hand.

A human heart had grown in her over a millennium of scorn.

She couldn't explain why.

Life was just incomprehensible like that.

"And so, the witch died, and the people lived happily ever after."

"Waaah! So it all ended well!"

"...The Witch's Flint. You like this fairy tale that much? Even though Mommy's a witch too?"

"Hmm... Mommy's a good witch, so it's fine! Yeah!"

She had a daughter.

They agonized for days over a name. Should it be in human tongue? ...Would Ulrich hate it if it was in demon language?

"Hate what? It's your homeland."

"...Then I have one in mind."

The woman smiled.

"Freira."

It meant "the beloved one." ...A bit ironic for a witch's daughter who'd slaughtered so many humans.

No, not ironic at all.

"Mommy! Look at this. It's you!"

"Huh, those horns are kinda big...?"

"I made them big 'cause I want horns too!"

The girl was adorable. Not just because she resembled her mother so closely. Despite the demon blood, she was unbelievably pure and innocent.

"When I grow up, I wanna marry Daddy. Mommy can be the bridesmaid."

"Ahaha..."

...Though sometimes those damp eyes, just like her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠own, appeared.

That made the woman's guilt grow heavier. Before understanding human hearts, she'd killed countless over nearly a millennium.

What would it feel like to lose her daughter? Her heart would shatter into a thousand pieces, the world crumbling.

'Then... have I lived a lifetime doing that to others?'

The woman atoned to nameless victims. The day of reckoning would come, she knew.

She wished for one thing only.

Punish me, but spare my daughter.

Even that might be selfish.

Life is incomprehensible. Even more irrational and unfair.

Happy times fly by in retrospect. Unhappy ones drag on eternally.

Like the dragon of oblivion returning.

Not sated by the kingdom's memories, Malgras the memory-eater descended south.

Straight into the Grand Duchy. No one knew why.

"...The Empire's mages can't stand against it."

"It's a Dragon Word to begin with. Totally different from magic. The only ones who could possibly stop it..."

There was one. Just one.

Only one mystery operated like the Dragon Word: witchcraft. And only a witch could wield it.

The woman sensed the end. Her husband led ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the subjugation force. Even a Swordmaster couldn't fell a dragon—buying time at best.

'Might not kill it. So I have to freeze it. With my power.'

The Frost Witch left the Grand Duchy. After reading a fairy tale and feeding her daughter, as always.

She could have fled with her, pretending ignorance. But she couldn't. Too many lives taken in her long life. Having learned human hearts, atonement was right.

On the way north after tucking her in, her chest ached, breath short, forcing glances back.

That's why she spotted the tiny girl.

"...Mommy?"

Why here? She'd left her asleep in the mansion.

How chilled her hands running through biting cold? Her flushed cheeks and frozen hair—how frigid?

The woman embraced her daughter. Born with a frozen heart, she still wanted to warm her even a little.

"Why'd you come?"

"But... you left, Mommy. Like... you'd never come back."

Those words stabbed like daggers. Never come back. Would she truly never see her daughter again?

Such a kind, cute child.

If only she'd understood human hearts sooner. Spent less time killing, more loving and giving.

The woman shook off futile regrets.

"Freira. My princess. Know what your name means?"

"The beloved one. You named me that, Mommy."

Stroking her sky-blue hair, the woman prayed. May the world embrace this child. Not burden her with my sins.

"Here. Take this."

"What's this? ...A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠necklace?"

This is a promise.

A promise woven from the Frost Witch's sundered soul.

"A promise? Between you and me?"

"Yes. Between my princess and Mommy. ...Freira, listen closely."

The woman draped her cloak over her daughter.

"Mommy won't come back."

"...Why? We can go home now. Live together forever."

"Daddy's fighting out there. Against a bad lizard eating people's memories."

Mommy did lots of bad things too. Hurt so many people. So now it's time for punishment.

"But! But Mommy's a good person! Even with horns... You read me fairy tales! Help the fief's people! And..."

The innocent child defended her. As if covering all her mother's wrongs.

"Freira. I'm sorry. ...Life's just incomprehensible. Mommy's bad deeds caught up."

Tears rolled down the girl's cheeks. Too young for the words, but maybe someday she'd understand.

Or perhaps never.

She'd be forgotten. The dragon of oblivion would devour the memories.

"Freira. My daughter. Remember this. Even if everything's forgotten, your mind a jumble—one thing alone."

The woman smiled her last before her daughter.

"Mommy lived a long time. Over a thousand years. Know what made me happiest in all that?"

"...What?"

You.

"The ten years with my princess—happier than any time in the world. So don't forget."

Even if oblivion takes all, memories erode, and you resent me.

Even if false ones overlay—me abandoning you, cursing you, denying your birth.

"Remember just one thing. Someone truly loves you. I love you, Freira. Thank you for being my daughter."

"...Mommy? What's wrong? You're not leaving, right? Stay a little longer?"

The Frost Witch offered the necklace to her only daughter.

"I promise."

Eight rings hovered behind her, her whisper laden with power.

"Don't forget. If you hate Mommy too much, hold this and head north. It'll glow where frost abounds. Then speak your true name."

Deep blue light filled the air. Euterpe fastened the necklace around Freira's neck.

This was Frost's Oath.

No knowing when it'd be fulfilled, but a promise from a witch's sundered soul.

Days later, the fire dragon froze into winter slumber. The Grand Duke returned to the wall, mortally wounded. Most knights became amnesiacs, forgotten.

The Frost Witch never returned.

Freira repeated it to remember. Over and over.

Mommy left to protect me. Said I was more precious than any memory.

Transparent as frost, those memories piled with ashes. Twisting, mixing, warping grotesquely.

Mommy, for my sake.

To— protect— me?

Really? For sure?

Or just what I want to believe?

Mommy— abandoned— me.

Said she didn't want a child like me. Mocked my lowly worm-mixed blood.

Said demon blood couldn't be overcome. Laughed cackling over corpses.

Cursed that I'd become like her, mouth torn wide.

Ten-year-old Freira huddled under blankets.

Mommy abandoned me.

All that remained was faint murmurs, as always. Whose voice? Fading.

...Mo... too... hold... glow... name...

***

"What...!"

Malgras's eyes widened. Something was deeply wrong. No emotional surge.

Intense hatred should lead to truth, but no hate tainted the emotions.

As memories backlashed, Malgras coughed violently.

Before him, Freira gasped for breath.

"...Miss."

"Hamel. I hated that woman. Hated her for abandoning me—wanted to curse her if we met again."

A lie. If true, Malgras would've devoured her memories by now.

A wistful smile formed. Breath escaped the Grand Duke's daughter's lips.

"But I can't say a word. What an idiot."

Freira gazed at the deep blue necklace.

This is the promise.

A monster-born woman's vow to her sole kin. Proof she had a human heart.

Hamel reached for Freira. If his memories held, victory was near.

"Miss. Walk. Step forward on your own two feet."

"...Okay."

One step. Two. On the third.

Frost's Oath shone brilliantly.

"... "

Freira realized.

Ten years ago today. Her tenth birthday.

The Frost Witch returned to frost here. Sealed the memory-eater in deep slumber, saving the human realm.

All memories overwritten. Only world's common sense remained.

Sounds from the Grand Duchy echoed.

- The witch was irreverent by birth. She betrayed us.

- Look. Abandoned even her daughter and fled to the demon realm. Pity the child.

She couldn't speak. Even she, the Frost Witch's daughter, faced truth only now.

The roused fire dragon bared fangs again. Countless forgotten within, existences stolen, memories devoured.

"So, I'll end it. I can."

Frost Witch's blood flows in me.

The automaton who'd led her here smiled faintly. He asked one thing.

"Do you remember?"

"Yes. ...Everything."

Malgras's eerie eyes flared. Enraged at losing its delicacy. Dragon Word for devouring poured from its maw.

"Be eroded. Forget all. Surrender your memories."

The Dragon Word tore reality's will, forming flames. Freira simply extended her hand.

Like her mother once showed—one word sufficed.

"Freeze."

Frost spread. Piercing ashes, quenching sulfur flames, enveloping all. The dragon's breath iced over.

Malgras felt astonishment. Even the Frost Witch hadn't done this.

The necklace on the witch's daughter sparkled. Deep blue.

Ah. That's the difference. Wondered where the Frost Witch's sundered soul went. Prepared for this day.

Malgras roared, frost-cracked maw gaping.

"Doesn't matter now! Give me everything—all of it!"

Freira Karstein doesn't cry. The Grand Duke's daughter can't show such weakness.

Swallowing tears under that gaze, Hamel wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"As the Frost Witch's daughter, you could cry."

"...My mom didn't."

"She did. She had a human heart."

Freira chuckled. Something unfrozen trailed down her cheek.

"Miss Freira."

"...Yeah."

"Time to keep the promise."

- It'll glow where frost abounds. Then speak your true name.

Her mother's last words. Final gift to her.

Freira lifted the deep blue necklace with both hands. Frost-blue hair fluttered in the icy wind.

"I am—the daughter of Northern Grand Duke Ulrich Karstein—"

The woman's final smile flashed by.

"—and the Frost Witch, Euterpe."

Thus, the promise from ten years ago—unspoken since her tenth birthday.

Declared before you.

I am—

"Freira Euterpe Karstein."

Snow fell from the sky. Flakes around Freira crystallized into frost.

As if covering the bad memories clinging to ashes. Awakening from long nightmare, embracing forever.

Sobs echoed over the piling frost.