Part Ten

 Part Ten

December 19th, 2020

Shard glared at Hanna through the glass partition. Hanna with her big, innocent, blue eyes. Hanna with her black hair neatly pulled up and wearing a pretty, sky blue dress. Hanna staring back at her with nothing but pity. Shard sneered in contempt. What a miserable creature to behold. What a waste of power and destiny. A rat dressed as a church mouse. A weasel. A coward. A traitor. Shard’s sneer turned into a smile and she spoke with faked cheerfulness. “Did you miss me?” 

“Hardly,” Hanna responded, keeping her voice even. “How are you?” 

Shard blinked, the corner of her smile twitching. “What an odd question. How am I? How do you think?”

Hanna shrugged. “Well, you’re fed, housed, watered…”

“So I’m a houseplant?” Shard jabbed. 

Hanna folded her arms and continued. “You’re alive, maintained, and protected. The only thing you’re lacking is entertainment and socialization. You seem set.”

“The only thing I’m lacking...” Shard scoffed and shook her head. “You of all people…” She glared at Hanna again and spoke in a low voice. “You took the only thing that ever mattered to me.” 

“Kandi made you a cake,” Hanna said, abruptly changing the topic and looking away. “But the guards confiscated it.” She was trying to keep the conversation out of the past.

“It’s all the same. I would have thrown it in your face.” Shard shrugged then added, “Is that weeb still playing cupcake boss?” She chuckled to herself. “That airhead couldn’t run a lemonade stand.” 

Hanna narrowed her eyes and her voice held an edge. “Kandi’s doing just fine. And she only made the cake because I asked her to.” 

“Of course.” Shard tilted her head with a forced smile. “...What flavor?”

“Angel food,” was the answer. Shard snorted. Hanna tried to change the topic again. “Have you taken up any new hobbies lately? Read any good books?” She asked. She walked down the length of the glass, inspecting the inside of the cell. A pile of torn papers sat in the corner. “I see you got Misty’s pamphlets.” 

Shard rolled her eyes. “Propaganda, you mean.” 

“It’s a solid rehabilitation program,” Hanna insisted, walking back to face Shard. “You should give it a try.” She gestured to the cell. “Might get you out of here.” 

“Don’t make me laugh.” Shard’s glare turned sullen. “We both know that will never happen.” Shard turned away. It was a moment before she spoke again, as though contemplating. “…I need new shoes,” she said softly.

Hanna tilted her head. “Pointe shoes? What happened to the last pair I sent?” 

Shard gave a half shrug and folded her arms, refusing to look at her visitor. “They took them.” 

“They?” Hanna turned around to look behind then turned back. “They who?” 

Shard rolled her eyes and vaguely gestured to the guarded door with a wave. “Them.” 

“Why?” Hanna asked. 

“They don’t trust me with the ribbons,” Shard answered casually, leaning against the wall and absently tracing invisible lines in the glass. “Afraid I’ll do something dangerous, I suppose.” 

Hanna inched closer to the glass with a critical eye. “To yourself or to someone else?” 

“Oh, please!” Shard’s head snapped to glare at Hanna, immediately insulted. “Who do you take me for?! You?” 

Hanna stepped back, hurt. “I worry about you, Shard. I know you don’t believe me, but I do. After everything we’ve been through…” She stopped herself and took a breath. “Sending new shoes won’t make a difference then, if they’re going to keep taking them away…” She changed the topic again, taking on a more hopeful tone. “It’s snowing outside. Do they let you see it?”

“No.” Shard’s sullen mood returned. “They don’t let me go outside at all when it snows. In case you haven’t noticed, they like to keep my room a balmy ninety degrees year-round.” 

“I noticed,” Hanna said quietly. 

Shard folded her arms, watching. “Why are you here?” 

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Hanna answered.  

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Shard exploded. Hanna jumped away from the glass. “You’re pathetic!” Shard continued. “So absolutely pathetic!” Whatever rage she was holding back finally poured out. “How am I? You worry about me?!” Shard mocked, waving her hands around. “Oh no, poor little Shard is behind bars and here I am feeling sad about it. What a JOKE!” She pointed at Hanna. “Don’t pretend you care about me! You stabbed me in the back!” She shrugged. “But you want to talk about the weather. You want to talk about the outside world like I’m still part of it.”

“Shard, please,” Hanna started, hands up. 

“NO!” Shard stopped her. “Don’t sit there and ask me how I am like we’re friends! If you came to talk about something important, then talk, but don’t you DARE talk to me about little things. Talk to me about something substantial. About rebellion, religion, revenge, war, betrayal, taking over the world, ANYTHING except the weather! Don’t waste my time with your meaningless chatter. Don’t talk to me about trivial crap that doesn’t matter! Don’t even waste your breath!” 

Hanna looked away, blinking back tears and swallowing, desperately trying to maintain her composure. I was trying to connect. It mattered to me. She balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly and released her hands before facing Shard again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I thought you had all the time in the world.” 

“Time is the only thing I have left,” Shard said bitterly, turning her back on Hanna. She extended her black wings, creating another barrier between herself and the visitor. Hanna’s eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Shard’s wings. The black feathers were clipped. “You took everything else,” Shard muttered. “Why are you here?” 

At least they didn’t permanently... Hanna shook her head and looked away. “I came to talk,” she said. “I thought talking about what happened would help.”

“Is that what a stupid shrink told you?” Shard glanced over her shoulder. “Or your stupid hus-”

“Stop,” Hanna sharply interrupted. “Don’t you dare. There’s no reason to be like that. You need to quit putting everyone else down.” She crossed her arms. “He actually asked me not to come.” 

“You should have listened.” Shard turned back to Hanna with a smirk. “Every year, you come back like something is going to change. Every year, nothing does. Maybe you’re the insane one.” Shard stepped closer to the wall and sat down facing the glass.

“You can’t keep holding on to the hatred, Shard,” Hanna said as she also sat on the floor in front of her. “You have to let it go. Get it out. Stop burying it. I’m here. You can talk to me. Tell me what it was like. Tell me what happened.” 

Shard raised an eyebrow with an amused half smile. “There’s no reason to tell you. You remember everything now.”

“Then talk to a professional,” Hanna retorted.

Shard chuckled. “I’d sooner pull out my own teeth.”

“Then write it down,” Hanna countered, agitation growing. “They’ll give you paper and pens!” 

“Why bother writing?” Shard continued with her amused smirk. “No one is going to read it.” 

“It’s not about who reads it!” Hanna exclaimed. Her frustration grew while Shard remained calm. “It’s about getting it out of your head so you don’t have to keep living with it. Putting it on paper gives it a place to live. So what if no one reads it?! At least then you won’t continue to be haunted by it!”

“Who says I’m the haunted one?” Shard asked smugly. “What’s this really about?” 

“It’s about separating myself from you and burning the bridge!” Hanna finally admitted. She gasped and covered her mouth. “I didn’t… I mean…” She kicked herself and looked away in shame. 

Shard only smirked. Check. After a moment of silence, Shard spoke softly. “Every year, you visit me. Every year. Like clockwork. I don’t ask you to be here. So why are you? If it’s about getting rid of me, why do you keep coming back?”

Hanna shrugged and shook her head, refusing to look at her. “Part of me hopes you’ll change… that you can still be saved.”

Shard’s red eyes narrowed, but her superior smirk never faded. “I’m not a lost sheep that needs saving, darling. I’m not a damsel that needs rescuing. I’m the wolf. I’m the monster.”

Hanna looked at her. “You’re not a mons-”

Shard slammed her fist against the glass. The wall did not crack or break, but the sound made Hanna jump. 

“What? Scared of me?” Shard asked, a vile grin on her face. “How embarrassing.” She brushed her hands off and settled back as though nothing unusual happened. “I know you didn’t come to help me or hear my story. You’re here for you. You came to make sure your nightmare is still locked up. You think I’m still a threat. You’re right, of course. Spare me your salvation.” 

Hanna frowned. “There’s still hope for you.”

“Hope?!” Shard cackled. “You cling to that word like it’s the only thing holding you together. Your spell of protection. Your security blanket. You are pathetic. Keep your flimsy thread of hope. You can hang from it for all I care.” 

“Please don’t say things like that,” Hanna whispered, tears again threatening. 

“Disgusting,” Shard continued. “What are you without me? Nothing.” She stood up. “I pulled us out of that bloody arena. I stopped Nathalia. I burned down the lab that mutated us. I did that! I protected us!” Hanna also stood up, watching, while Shard continued. “And what did you do? Cowered in the back of my head. A conscience that turned a blind eye when it was convenient. Pathetic. You stand there and play martyr while I rot. We would have died without me.”

“And what are you without me?!” Hanna asked, her own anger finally breaking through. “You keep crossing the line and I’m the one who keeps pulling you back! No one else cares about you, Shard! I do! Without me, you’re a serial killer for hire! A murderous, lying, thieving-”

“I did what I did to survive!” Shard yelled. “They wouldn’t have pinned half those hits on me if you hadn’t told them! Stop pretending you don’t deserve to be in here with me!”

“I had to tell them! It was the right thing to do!” Hanna shouted. “You’re lucky you’re still breathing! I begged them to keep you here instead of sending you back to Earth! I begged them for mercy!” 

“Easy to say from the other side of the fence! Death would have been merciful in comparison! I’ll take anything over this cell! Anything! They should have just gotten it over with! Better yet, put me in the arena and let me earn my freedom!”

“This isn’t Tarish!” Hanna shouted. “Things don’t work like that anymore, you know that! The world we were trained to survive in DOESN’T EXIST!” She glared at Shard, face flush and breathing erratic. Her blue eyes pleaded for understanding. “There is no arena! There is no mob! No assassins are waiting for you! No scientists are going to hurt you! It’s not kill or be killed! Not anymore!”

The anger in Shard’s face dissolved. She blinked at Hanna with wide eyes and shook her head, finally crumbling. “That’s all it's ever been…” Tears fell down Shard’s face. “That’s the only thing I know… It’s the only thing I’m good at.” Her voice broke. She sniffled and wiped the tears with the back of her hand. Hanna stared at her, unsure what to do or say. When was the last time Shard cried? Crying was a weakness, wasn’t it? Shard sniffed again and took a shaky breath before speaking. “My monsters were real. The only way I could save us from them was to become something worse… Something even monsters fear.”

Hanna reached out and put a hand on the glass. She couldn’t remember the last time Shard ever looked so broken. She didn’t think it was possible for her to break. Here she was, actually weeping. Overcome with compassion, Hanna wanted to reach out and hug her. Instead, there was a wall of glass between them. Shard was trapped. Even if she were placed in a cell large enough for her to fly, someone made sure she was physically unable to. Not only were her ice powers restrained, her environment prohibited even the slightest trace of the element. Blasted at all times with heat and never allowed to see the snow. No human interaction, no outside world, no ice powers, no flight, no freedom. And Hanna was the one who put her there. “You can change,” Hanna said softly. “I did. It doesn’t have to be this way.” 

Shard laughed as she looked at Hanna again. “You’re so blind.” She smiled and shook her head. “Can’t you see?” Shard leaned her face as close to Hanna’s as the glass barrier would allow. “I don’t want to,” Shard whispered. 

Part Nine

Part Nine

Shard was exhausted by the time she went to sleep that night. She woke up the next day stiff and sore, but Nathalia didn't care. Just as soon as Shard complained about it, Nathalia was quick to comment on how the soreness was good, needed, and should be expected every day going forward. A comment Shard was not happy to hear. Nathalia made Shard start off the morning with another run through the woods. Shard did not encounter the wolf this time, but she stuck to the path just in case. As she did the day before, Nathalia guided Shard through a series of strength training exercises. These focused on new muscle groups. While Shard didn’t have to exert the sore muscles as much, new muscles hurt afterward. Nathalia practically confirmed that Shard’s life from here would be in a perpetual state of cycling pain. The woman was always ready with a sharp word and handy switch if Shard ever got complacent. After breakfast, the two went outside to practice harnessing Shard’s ice magic abilities. Shard created various icy objects until she became tired or could no longer take the cold. Usually, it was a combination of the two. After lunch, Nathalia added to Shard’s growing list of chores. Shard went to bed completely spent and slept soundly until Nathalia woke her up the next day for more of the same. 

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. While Shard found much to complain about, she was still taken care of. She ate well. She slept well. She grew in strength and competency, though she would never admit it. Shard never saw the wolf as long as she was with Nathalia. She would ask Nathalia about the world, about magic, and about Nathalia’s past. Nathalia always seemed annoyed when the question wasn’t directly relevant to training. Any information about Thorae was drenched in hatred and warnings of self preservation. Eventually, Shard stopped asking. Two months into training, Nathalia introduced weapons. Shard trained with a bow for hunting and a sword for self defense. Neither tool was particularly good quality. In the sword’s case, it wasn’t even sharp. The purpose of it was to practice swinging a long piece of metal, so Nathalia instructed. The arrows were flimsy, inaccurate, and broke often, but Nathalia assured her pupil that practicing correct form and stance was more important anyway. The list of chores grew. Wash the dishes, clean the house, split logs for fire, prepare breakfast, prepare lunch, prepare dinner, dispose of the garbage, wash the clothes. Shard started to wonder if there was anything Nathalia did on her own any more. Eventually, Nathalia brought Shard along on her hunting trips. They went along the path behind the garden and took the left route. They climbed over logs and boulders and over streams. Nathalia had a preferred area she went to. Nathalia showed the girl where she hid her traps and how to check them. If the trapped animals were still alive, Nathalia finished them off and showed Shard how to field dress them. Shard got sick the first time watching, much to Nathalia’s disappointment. 

The only reprieve Shard had from her training was when Nathalia took trips to town to restock their supplies. Shard was not allowed to go with her. Shard begged to go along at first, but after the third time she was denied, she stopped asking. Shard got to the point she preferred to be left alone. It was the only truly free time she had to herself and she found herself spending most of it outside. Shard would walk through the woods, although never far from the house. In the garden, she practiced making snow and ice sculptures. Not the walls and icicles that Nathalia demanded of her. Shard made snow bunnies, snow ducklings, little ice castles, and snowmen. She made snow owls and ice flowers and even a little village with snow people. She made these all in the garden where Nathalia couldn’t destroy them by accident. It became her favorite way to use her ice abilities. It was one of the few things completely in Shard’s control and, as far as she knew, the only part of her existence Nathalia knew nothing about. If Nathalia ever asked, Shard simply said she practiced her ice magic. As the months passed and the world grew warmer, Shard was sad to see her creations melt between visits. She would recreate them, but it wasn’t long before the snow and ice were replaced with grass and leaves as spring took over. Shard’s time in the garden was replaced with tending to the dirt and weeds. It seemed Nathalia was set on having a productive garden by the time late spring and summer came around. 

One day, while Shard was inspecting the tiny plants she and Nathalia cared for, Shard noticed the leaves were damaged. Something was sneaking into the garden and eating the frail plants. Shard mentioned it to Nathalia only once and the woman permitted her to spend more time in the garden. A few days passed before Shard caught the culprit. She was inspecting a row of greens when a rustle caught her attention. Looking up, Shard spotted a small, black creature. She thought it was a rabbit due to its long, pointed ears, but it had a tail like that of a squirrel. Acting quickly, Shard created a cage of ice around the creature to trap it. “So you’re the one eating our plants,” Shard said with a smile as she drew closer to investigate. The creature in the cage was a small thing. It didn’t panic or try to run. It sat in the cage nibbling on the plant leaves closest to it. “Well, aren’t you adorable,” Shard sat in front of it and watched with a smile. “Are you a vicious monster like the ones Nathalia keeps telling me about?” She asked, not expecting an answer. “I bet you’re a killer rabbit,” Shard continued. “Enjoy your light salad before turning into a cold-blooded predator.” Shard giggled, still watching the creature. The black, shiny fur looked soft and fluffy. The creature’s brown eyes stared at her as it continued eating. The long ears stood upright like radars for a second before flopping back down. “If I bring you food you can eat, will you stop eating the plants I’m trying to grow?” Shard asked. She reached into her cloak and retrieved an apple. Shard bit off a large chunk and held it out to the creature. The tiny animal took the piece of apple and munched on it. “There. We can have peace after all,” Shard said. She took apart the bars of ice and watched the creature dart away. The creature was there the next day when Shard came to check on the plants. Again, Shard fed it a bit of apple. The creature seemed comfortable with Shard’s presence. Shard was happy to have a friend to talk to that wasn’t Nathalia. The fluffy black creature listened without judgment and never said a harsh word. Granted, it never spoke at all. Shard started calling it “Flopsy” due to the creature’s ears always flopping back into place when lowering from their radar mode. Shard never told Nathalia about the new friend, but she wondered if the woman would let her keep the creature as a pet. Shard spent a few days pondering how best to ask. She wondered what words to use and in what order she’d have to say them to sound the most convincing. 

*****************

“Don’t stop moving!” Nathalia barked one day as they were training. “If you stop moving for two seconds, you’re dead!” 

Shard barely dodged a sword swipe with a roll and pulled her blade up in time to block. Nathalia spun to the left and Shard had to parry to avoid injury. “Slow down!” Shard exclaimed. 

“No, you speed up!” Nathalia answered with another swing. “You have to be faster than this! Strike first. Strike hard. Strike without hesitation!” 

Nathalia batted away the sword and managed to pin Shard. “Again.” She let Shard up and resumed speaking while training. “The best defense is a good offense. Attack before the enemy has a chance to even draw their blade.”

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Shard said through gritted teeth as she dodged another attack. 

“Life isn’t fair,” Nathalia said. “Stop dodging and attack. You don’t have the capacity to outlast your enemy. The time you waste hoping to weaken your opponent is time used against you. Kill them before they kill you.” She pinned Shard again. “Because they will kill you.” 

Shard glared at the woman. “What about mercy?” 

“Your enemy will never be merciful.” Nathalia helped Shard up. “So neither should you extend mercy. You must finish the kill. Every time. If your enemy escapes, they will come back stronger and they will retaliate without warning.” Nathalia stretched her open hand out. 

Shard handed her the hilt of her own sword as they headed for the house. “I’ll take care of lunch today, if you want to go check on the garden,” Nathalia said. 

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Shard said. “Thanks.” She went around to the back of the house and looked for the little black creature. Flopsy had met her in the garden every day for a couple weeks straight now and Shard was just getting up the courage to talk to Nathalia about keeping it. Strangely enough, Shard could not find the little creature today. She looked around the garden and even into the woods, but came up empty-handed. She set a whole apple down in the creature’s usual spot and went inside the house. 

Part Eight

Part Eight

Shard got up and followed the woman back inside the house. When Shard entered, Nathalia had pushed the couch out of the way, leaving an open area in the center of the room. 

“How many push ups can you do?” Nathalia asked. 

“What?” Shard looked at her with confusion. “I don’t know... None?” 

Nathalia pointed to the floor. “Start with ten.”
Shard frowned. “You can’t be serious.” Nathalia flicked the switch against the wall, the noisy crack scaring Shard. “Okay! Okay!” Shard threw off the cloak and attempted to do a push-up, only to collapse. “I can’t-”

Nathalia flicked the switch. “Again.”

Shard attempted again while Nathalia spoke. “Keep your back straight. Don’t lock your elbows. Don’t stop breathing. Again. Use your muscles. Engage your core. Again!” 

Shard gave out and stared at the wooden floor as she huffed. “I can’t!” 

Nathalia sat on the floor beside her and smacked the wood with the switch. “Again. Control your breathing. You sound like a dying pig.” 

“...I… huff… can’t… huff…” Shard crossed her arms and rested her forehead on them. 

“Say ‘can’t’ one more time,” Nathalia threatened as she leaned over. “You can and you will. Or do you want to roll over and let life trample all over you? You want to be a little lamb led to the slaughter? Answer me!”

“No,” Shard answered. “But I need rest.”

“Rest is for the weak.” Nathalia straightened. “Are you weak?” 

Shard wanted to answer yes out of spite, if not out of honesty. “No,” she huffed. 

“Prove it.” Nathalia’s switch landed on Shard’s shoulder. “Again.”

Shard bit back the tears and continued as instructed. Attempted to, anyway. She couldn't keep form and she didn’t keep count. After a moment, Nathalia stood up. “Good. Now lunges.” 

“Wha-” 

Nathalia swatted the switch at Shard. “Get up and take a step forward. No, that’s too close. No, now it’s too far. Good. Now back. Other side. Again.” Nathalia guided Shard through a few more exercises. Always commanding. Always ready with the switch should Shard be less than cooperative. 

“Good, good,” Nathalia said after a while. “Well, not really good. You actually did terrible with all of them, but it’s a start. Everyone has to start somewhere.” 

Shard lay on the floor, sweating and breathing heavily. “... huff... why…?” She glared at Nathalia, angry, but too tired to do anything about it. Nathalia sat on the floor beside Shard with her legs crossed. 

“Strength,” Nathalia replied. “Discipline. Flexibility. Speed. Balance. Control. How do you expect to swing a weapon around with flimsy arms like yours? A sword is only as strong as the hand that holds it.” 

Shard blinked at Nathalia. “A sword? I get a sword?” 

Nathalia shrugged. “If you want. Sword. Bow. Spear. Axe. All tools. The best tools you have are your mind and body.” Shard sat up to listen, breathing still calming down. Nathalia continued. “A body you have full control over will protect you better than the best weapon money can buy. A sharp mind will cut deeper than the sharpest blade. If you want to survive in this world, you need to start using your head.” 

Shard frowned. “I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s yet to be determined.” Nathalia scoffed. “In the end, it’s not the weapon or your skill with it that will give you the strength needed to survive. It’s in here.” Nathalia pointed to her heart. “If you despair, if you give in, if you show any hesitation at all, you might as well roll over and accept your fate. You’re a fighter. That’s good, but you have to keep fighting. Over and over again. The day you stop fighting is the day you die. Fight until your last breath.” 

Shard’s glare softened. Where once was anger, she now felt sorrow. “It can’t be that way all the time,” she said softly. “I mean, we can relax while we’re safe, right? We’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get us in here.” 

Nathalia frowned. “Cattle in a pen think they’re safe. Safety is a false concept. Even here. You can be attacked at any moment, by anyone.” 

“What about other people? There’s safety in numbers, right? What about friends?” Shard asked. 

“Friends will stab you in the back,” Nathalia answered without emotion. “Friends won’t help you. If you are in need, do you think friends will help you? If you’re starving, do you think friends will share their food? If you’re without a home, you think they’ll invite you into theirs?” She shook her head. “They won’t. The only person you can rely on is yourself. Remember it.”

“What… what about you?” Shard asked softly. 

“I can’t protect you forever.” Nathalia smiled and stood up. She started pushing the couch back into place. “Come. It’s time to make breakfast. I’m hungry enough to eat you.” 

“WHAT?!” Shard turned to Nathalia in alarm. 

Nathalia laughed. “I’m only teasing. Try not to take things so seriously.”

Shard relaxed and let out a nervous laugh. Shard watched Nathalia start making food as her smile faded. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you to turn you into such a person. I’m sorry for whoever hurt you. 

***********************************

Nathalia made breakfast and Shard cleaned up the dishes. After the dishes, Nathalia had Shard clean the room and floor. While Shard started off not doing any chores, her list of things to do around the house seemed to gradually be growing. Shard didn’t mind as much. She felt it was fair to help out after everything Nathalia had done for her. After breakfast, Nathalia directed Shard outside again. 

“Now,” Nathalia started. “Focus on the cold.” 

Shard blinked at her. “It’s freezing out here. I’m not sure how I can focus on it any more than that.” 

“No,” Nathalia said. “Focus on your connection to it. The element is an extension of yourself. Become the frost.” 

Shard raised an eyebrow then rolled her eyes. “Become the frost. That sounds ridiculous.” 

Nathalia stooped down to pick up some snow and packed it into a ball. She threw the snowball in Shard’s direction. The snowball missed, but it got Shard’s attention. 

“Hey!” Shard shouted then bent down to collect some snow. 

“No,” Nathalia warned. “Create your own snowball.” 

Shard stopped and looked at her hands. She could feel the cold starting to numb the tips of her fingers. She could feel the hairs on her arms rise as a breeze ruffled the edge of her cloak. Shard shivered and clenched her fists

“You’re still trying to keep yourself warm,” Nathalia stated, folding her arms. “Warmth and cold cannot exist in the same space. The harder you fight to keep yourself warm, the weaker your frost control will be. Accept the cold. Embrace it.” 

Shard frowned. “And what happens when I freeze to death?” 

“You won’t,” Nathalia reassured. “You’ll be the strongest you’ve ever been.” 

“You make no sense,” Shard muttered. 

“It’s Thoraen elemental magic,” Nathalia countered. “Of course it doesn’t make sense to an ignorant earthling. Let your core grow cold.” 

Shard took a deep breath and focused with her eyes closed. As she let out a long breath, she relaxed every part of her that wanted to contract and preserve heat. She forced the warm air out of her lungs and breathed in the cold. 

“Good,” Nathalia said. “Focus on what you want to accomplish. Picture it clearly.” 

Shard put her palms together and let out another breath of hot air. She kept her body relaxed and slowed her breathing. Shard focused on the space between her palms. She could feel an icy shape forming between her hands. After a moment, Shard looked down and opened her hands. A small rosebud of ice delicately sat in her cupped hands. A huge smile grew on Shard’s face as she stared at it. “I did it! It turned out just like I wanted it to!” She held up the clear, icy flower. “It’s beautiful! Nathalia, look at what I made!” 

Shard kept forgetting the woman’s eyes were covered at all times. She looked up to see Nathalia frowning at her. “I told you to make a snowball,” Nathalia said, arms still folded.

“Oh… right...” Shard gently set the rosebud down in the snow and focused again. What she ended up with was a solid ball of ice, not a snowball. “Well… it’s close, but I wouldn’t want to throw this at you.” 

“Try again,” Nathalia said. 

Shard focused again, but came up with the same result. She set the globes of ice down next to the rosebud. The third time she tried, the ball was frozen on the outside, but slush on the inside. She only knew this because it quickly cracked and spilled all over her hands. Shard shook her hands off and clenched them a few times. “I can’t feel my fingers…” 

Nathalia frowned. “That’s to be expected. Your body will adjust and acclimate with practice. Eventually, you won’t feel it at all.” 

“My hands or the cold?” Shard asked skeptically. 

Nathalia shrugged as she stepped close, heading toward the house. “Maybe either, but what do I know?” She brushed past Shard, footsteps crunching as she walked back inside. 

Shard looked down. The globes were still intact, but the rosebud was crushed. Nathalia must have stepped on it by accident, Shard told herself. I can always make another one later. 

Part Seven

 Part Seven

It was still dark when Shard was rudely woken by cold air. “Get up,” Nathalia commanded, yanking the blankets off the sleeping girl. “Get dressed. We’re going outside.” 

“Wha- what time is it?” Shard asked, squinting and reaching for the missing blankets. 

Nathalia threw a pair of boots at her. “Early, now get up. Meet me outside and don’t keep me waiting.” Nathalia closed the door behind her, leaving Shard to work through the disorientation on her own. Shard did as she was told, yawning and blinking away sleep by the time she got to the door. A frosty breeze hit her face as she left the house, sending shivers down her spine. “What are we doing out here?” Shard asked, wrapping the cloak tighter around her small frame. The bitter cold made the rude awakening even worse. All Shard wanted to do was go back inside the warm house and go back to sleep. 

“Training,” Nathalia answered. 

“What about breakfast?” Shard insisted with a voice more whiny than intended. 

“Trust me, you’ll be glad your stomach is empty.” Nathalia went to a young tree and snapped off a long stick. She sliced through the air with it, the object making a swish sound every time she swung it. 

Shard stared at the woman apprehensively. “Listen, lady,” Shard started. “I’m too tired to understand your insanity right now so I’m going back inside and back to sleep.” She turned to the house. “We can start over at a reasonable hour when the sun is-” 

Something heavy hit Shard in the back and she face-planted in the snow. Shard tried to jump up only for Nathalia to shove her back down. 

“GET OFF-”

“First rule of the hunt,” Nathalia interrupted, keeping Shard in the snow. “Kill or be killed.” Shard continued struggling, but Nathalia didn’t let her up. Instead, she leaned down to Shard’s level. “No matter what else I teach you, this lesson is the most important. You want to survive in this world? You’ll have to fight for it.” 

Shard continued squirming. “That doesn’t even-” 

“Kill or be killed. Repeat it!” Nathalia demanded. 

Shard stopped wiggling. “Kill or be killed.” 

“I didn’t hear you,” Nathalia said. 

“Kill or be killed,” Shard said in a louder voice. 

“Good.” Nathalia let go and stood up. 

Shard scrambled to her feet and glared at Nathalia. “What was that for?!” Shard yelled, brushing off the snow on her clothes. 

“You’re tenacious and ambitious,” Nathalia said. “Great traits, but useless alone. You lack discipline. You lack control. It’s going to get you killed.”

“And you’re going to teach me by shoving me in the ground?!” Shard asked in anger. 

“If that’s what it takes.” Nathalia said without emotion. “You will learn to obey me at all times. When I speak, you listen. When I call, you answer. When I give an order-”

“I obey, I got it, all right?!”  Shard interrupted. She was immediately smacked across her hand with the switch. “OUCH!” Shard jumped back, holding her hand. “What was that for?!”

“Some lessons only pain can teach you,” Nathalia said. “Never interrupt me again.”

“Okay,” Shard muttered, still rubbing her hand. “That hurt.” 

“Good.” Nathalia’s switch sliced through the air again with a swish. “Pain is good. Pain means you’re still alive. Pain means keep moving.” 

“I don’t think you know how humans work,” Shard said. “Pain means stop.” 

“You think the enemy cares if you’re in pain?” Nathalia asked. “You are either the hunter or the prey. There is no inbetween.” 

“But… it doesn’t have to-” Shard didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence. Nathalia stepped forward and smacked her with the switch again. 

“Ow!” Shard rubbed the injured spot as tears formed. “Please stop doing that.” She sniffled. 

Nathalia tilted her head. “Are you crying?” she asked with scorn in her voice. 

“Yeah, I said it hurt,” Shard said as the tears continued and fell down her face. 

Nathalia frowned in disgust. “What are you, a child?” Shard was about to point out that she had called her such not even a full day ago, but Nathalia continued. “You wanted to learn what it means to live in this world, didn’t you? If you break down and start crying at the first hint of struggle, maybe you don’t deserve to live in it.” 

Shard’s eyes widened at the woman, tears not stopping. She closed her mouth and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Nathalia continued speaking with contempt. “Stop crying. I will not abide weakness of any kind. Do you understand me?” 

Shard sniffled and tried to wipe the tears up as quickly as possible, trying to will the tears to stop. 

“Do you understand me?!” Nathalia repeated. 

“Yes,” Shard said, sleeves soaked with tears and snot. 

“Good. Now pull yourself together. It’s time to get down to actual training.” Nathalia pointed off toward the house. “Behind the garden is a trail. I want you to follow it. When you get to the fork, go right. It makes a large loop that ends at the road in front of the house.”

“Okay,” Shard said, looking back toward the house. “Just follow it?” she asked, making sure she fully knew the instructions. 

Nathalia nodded. “I’ll be waiting right here. Run.” 

“Run?” Shard said, looking back at the woman like she was crazy. 

“RUN!” Nathalia raised the switch and Shard took off for the path.

Shard ran along the path as instructed, but she did not stop crying. She was fueled by pain and anger. She ran out of fear and spite. Maybe the tears would stop if she ran faster. Maybe the pain would go away if she did what she was told. Maybe she could outrun the night and find light on the other side. Maybe. Shard tripped over her own feet and collapsed on the trail. She sat up and wiped her face, sniffling and taking short breaths. She coughed as she tried to get her breathing back to a reasonable pace. Looking ahead, the fork in the road was clear. Nathalia said to go right. What waited for her if she went right? Pain. A crazy, angry woman. Training, if one could call it that. Kill or be killed. Is that what she really wanted? What waited for her if she went left? Freedom. That word alone forced Shard to her feet. Shard glanced behind her. Nathalia was nowhere to be seen. Don’t keep me waiting. Shard took a deep breath and stared down the right path. Kill or be killed. You wanted to learn what it means to live in this world. Maybe you don’t deserve to live in it. Shard thought of her promise. Leaving would be turning her back on Nathalia, wouldn’t it? Shard clenched her fists and shook her head. “That’s not what I signed up for. That’s not the life I want.” Shard took off running again. She went left. Freedom. 

Not even a few steps into the new direction, Shard met her first challenge. The large, gray wolf from before jumped into her path. Shard screamed. She tried to stop and turn only to fall again. The wolf snarled and snapped at her. Shard jumped to her feet and ran back the way she came. The wolf gave chase. “NO!” Shard screamed, glancing behind her. The wolf leapt ahead of Shard and she had to change course again. She wasn’t sure where she was running, only that she had to keep going. Panic drowned every rational thought. Run! Keep running! Shard ran as fast as could, the wolf snarling close behind. Please don’t eat me! Keep running! Shard pressed ahead, leaping over anything in her path. Scrambling to gain her balance any time she stumbled, she dared not stop. Heart pounding. Lungs sore. All Shard heard was the snarling directly behind her. The path she was on opened to the main road without warning. Nathalia! As vile as the woman was, she could protect from the wolf. Shard just had to get to her in time. She ran faster. “NATHALIA!” Shard screamed as soon as she saw the woman. She ran to the figure and collapsed at her feet. 

“About time,” Nathalia commented cooly. “I was starting to worry.” 

“NAT! THE WOLF!” Shard managed to choke out between gasps of air, wildly pointing behind her. 

The woman tilted her head at the girl with a frown. “What wolf?” 

Shard looked back. Dawn’s light had broken the darkness from the morning. Shard could clearly see the trail she left in the snow from the opening in the woods. There was no wolf to be seen nor evidence that there had ever been one. “But…. but….” Shard’s head spun. I saw the wolf. I heard the wolf. It chased... Didn’t it?

“I already told you, wolves don’t exist here,” Nathalia said. “You made awful time, but I guess it wasn’t terrible for your first run. You’ll improve with time.” She turned and headed to the house. “Come along. We’re not done.” 

Shard looked back at Nathalia, tears threatening to resurface as her heart sank. She looked back at the forest. “No… but…. I know what I saw…” she whispered. 

Part Six

 Part Six

Shard was humming to herself as she cleaned up the lunch dishes. It was an old melody she remembered from her life on Earth. The fireplace was lit, emanating warmth and comfort. Nathalia sat on the couch knitting. Shard wasn’t sure how she did it. Nathalia looped the yarn between her needles and fingers without any trouble at all. The needles clicked occasionally as she worked. I guess if you do anything long enough you can get pretty good at it, Shard thought. Not much else to do in this boring house. Shard kept humming as she washed the dishes. She softly sang the words to herself. 

“Be Thou my vision, my sword, and my light.

Be Thou my shelter through day and through night.

Keep now Thy promise. Wisdom impart.

Be Thou my vision, Keeper of my heart.”

“You can forget your God,” Nathalia interrupted. “He doesn’t exist here.” 

“Are you sure?” Shard turned to look at her in surprise. “Then who created this world?” 

“A man,” Nathalia answered with disdain. She shrugged. “If He does exist, He’s the reason you’re here, isn’t He? You are the darkness that was cast out of your Original.” 

Shard’s shoulders sank as she lowered her blue eyes. “I guess so…” 

“Leave it behind you,” Nathalia said. “From now on, you rely on yourself alone.” 

“What about you?” Shard asked, scrubbing out a large pot. 

“Well, of course you rely on me too. That was a given.” Nathalia’s needles clicked along. 

“No, I mean…” Shard dried the last dish and put it away. “If you’ve lived as long as you say you have, surely you believe in something.” 

Nathalia scoffed. “With everything I’ve seen? All the cruelty and hatred?” She shook her head. “No. I only believe in myself.” 

Shard tilted her head. “But… it can’t be all bad. There’s still love and kindness in the world. At least on Earth, there is. That’s here too, right?” 

“Not here.” Nathalia’s answer was final and unswayed. “The world is cruel and cold and dark. Dangerous and evil. You won’t find anything here but entropy and pain. You think Someone so kind and loving would send you to a place like this?”

Shard glanced away. She frowned and stared at the wooden floor. No wonder she lives like this. All alone. Ready to draw a knife on anyone that comes close. How many years has she lived like this? Maybe it was a good thing she found me... Maybe I can make a difference... 

“Anyway, you shouldn’t sing while I’m knitting. It throws off my count.” Nathalia said, pulling the yarn out and starting over. 

“Oh, sorry.” Shard came over and sat on the chair across from Nathalia. She watched the woman knit for a moment. 

Nathalia stopped. “I can feel you staring. What do you want?” 

“Sorry, I was just wondering…” Shard muttered. 

“State your intentions clearly and without mumbling,” Nathalia said, sounding irritated. “Spit it out already. And stop apologizing.” 

“Can you explain magic to me?” Shard blurted out. “That’s what it is, right? Magic?” 

Nathalia let out a frustrated sigh and put her knitting project away. She folded her arms and settled back into the couch before starting. “Abilities. Powers. Control. Mana. Bending. Gifts. Magic. Elements. These are all words for the exact same thing: a connection to Thorae’s natural energy. Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. Ice. Lightning. Light. Shadow. These all make up the balance of the world. These elements are neither good nor evil, but a neutral tool with which to solve problems.”

“Can everyone use magic?” Shard asked. 

“No,” Nathalia answered. “Some people don’t use it at all. Some use more than their fair share. Some can use it without any training while some train for years only to use one or two. Others as a whole are more keenly attuned to it, since Thorae is their home, but Originals can learn it too. The most important rule about Thorae’s magic is this: energy costs energy. Energy put out is pulled from energy within.”

Shard frowned. “Can you explain that again? What does all that mean?” 

“Hmm.” Nathalia thought for a moment before answering. “Magic is like music. Think about each element as a different instrument. Some people play strings, other percussion, yet others woodwind. How one person uses an instrument can look and sound vastly different from the way another uses it. Some are skilled in many instruments. Some are skilled in only one. Some can repeat a melody note for note after only hearing it once. Some need to read the notes from a page and train every day to be able to play any melody at all. Most people who can use the elements fall somewhere between the ends of the spectrum. But some have no interest in music or instruments at all. All the elements combined created the world you’re standing in. A natural balance. A symphony of creation.”

“Wow. That’s beautiful,” Shard said in awe. “So, when it comes to my abilities… you said I’m naturally tuned to ice?” 

“So it would seem,” Nathalia answered. “You did conjure an ice shelter in a storm. Have you tried using your gift at all since then?”

Shard frowned. “Yes, but I can’t do anything with it. I can’t figure it out. I think I’m missing something.” 

“I see.” Nathalia nodded. “I’m not surprised you can’t control it yet. You’ve had a rough start as it is. Any combination of limitations can prevent you from using your gift, lack of training greatest of all.” 

“What do you mean by limitations?” Shard asked. 

“Balance is maintained through rules,” Nathalia answered. “Your personal level of energy. Distance between yourself and your target. Your own imagination. All these can be limiting factors when controlling the elements. The more energy you spend, the longer it will take your body to recover. Like running. How long can you run before you need a break? How long of a break do you need before you can run again? Distance is simple - your elemental control will weaken the further it is from you. It is easier to blow out a candle directly in front of you than it is one across the room.”

“And imagination?” Shard asked. 

Nathalia shrugged. “You’re only going to create what you can come up with on the spot. If you have little imagination, you’re going to stick to basic solutions to your problems, though many solutions might exist.” 

“What about the weather?” Shard pressed. 

“What about the weather?” Nathalia repeated, sounding bored of the conversation already. 

“You said I might be able to make my own blizzard,” Shard answered. “If I can get to that point of control, can I make one whenever and wherever I want? Like in the middle of summer?” 

Nathalia sneered. “Use your head. That’s a lot of energy. If you want to end up passed out in the dirt, be my guest. But you’ll have a much easier time trying to pull it off if you’re already surrounded by snow and ice. Don’t be afraid to use the resources around you. The more resources you have at your disposal, the better.”

Shard nodded. “So I should practice the most now while there’s still snow on the ground.” 

Nathalia smiled. “There may be brains in that empty head yet.” 

Shard glared at the woman. “So what’s to stop me from freezing your internal organs?”

Nathalia suddenly burst into laughter. “Aside from the fact that you have no idea how to do so?” She snickered again before answering the question. “Autonomy. The body is off limits. You can’t steal the air from someone else’s lungs or control their actions through the water in their body. This doesn’t mean there aren’t ways around it. You just have to be creative.” She smiled again. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ll figure out soon enough what you can and can’t control.” 

Shard folded her arms, still glaring. “Seems like a vague excuse for an arbitrary rule.”

Nathalia chuckled. “Life is full of arbitrary rules. Art is figuring out which rules can be bent and which can be broken.” 

“I’m not sure I like all these rules,” Shard commented. 

“They will feel natural the more you train and practice,” Nathalia said with a wave of her hand. “You’ll get to a point where you won’t even have to think twice about it.”

“Can I learn to control all the elements?” Shard asked, tilting her head. 

Nathalia’s smile faded. “There is only one person in all of Thorae who can use every element. There used to be more, but…” she trailed off with a frown. “Ah, that’s a story for another time. The short answer is probably not.” 

“So which element can you control?” Shard asked. 

“None of them,” Nathalia said, standing up from the couch. 

“Really?” Shard asked. She watched Nathalia cross the room and pull down a small, four-string domra that was hanging on the wall. 

Nathalia returned to the couch, propped her feet up, and began picking the strings. “I’m not from this world,” Nathalia answered. “My magic is different, but it is not less costly.” She adjusted the tension of the strings a little. 

Shard tilted her head. “Wait, you told me you were from Earth, right? So it’s Earth’s magic?” 

“Correct,” Nathalia answered. She finally started to play a melody, but Shard didn’t recognize it. 

“Earth has no magic,” Shard stated, eyes narrow. 

“Sssshhh,” Nathalia hushed, focusing on the strings. The melody started off slow as Nathalia got into the rhythm, but picked up quickly. The notes were high-pitched and played in quick succession. The narrow fingers on Nathalia’s left hand moved across the strings like a spider. Her right hand barely moved at all, seeming more like it was twitching in place with how fast she played the instrument. Shard quietly listened, head bobbing lightly to the tune. If Nathalia played a note wrong, Shard couldn’t tell. When the melody was finished, Nathalia propped the domra upright on her knee. “My magic did indeed originate on Earth,” Nathalia finally answered. “But, as with many things, it has been lost over time. My magic is ancient. If my sister on Earth is still alive, she and I are the only ones who remember how to practice it. Our magic exists only in myths and legends now. And it does me very little good here.” 

“Kind of a weird thing to brag about, but whatever,” Shard said with a raised brow. “How do you know so much about Thorae’s magic system then?”

“I read,” Nathalia answered in a bored voice. She put the instrument back in her lap and resumed picking the strings.

Shard tilted her head. “You can read?” 

Nathalia stopped and raised her head in insult. “Yes.” 

Shard stared back at her for an awkward moment, but Nathalia did not elaborate. “Sorry,” Shard muttered. 

“Stop apologizing,” Nathalia said in exasperation. 

“So-” Shard stopped herself. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” 

Nathalia lowered her head and picked at the strings. “You should go fetch more firewood. It’ll be dark soon.” Shard sneered, but got up and went to the door to put on her cloak. “Enjoy this free time while you have it,” Nathalia called after her. “Training starts tomorrow.” Shard closed the door behind her with a slam.