Snowflake VIII ~ Mournful Meltdown

•Previous Chapter: Breaking the Ice•

“I didn’t realize that you had complete lack of control over your powers,” Circe itted when she returned. “How long have you had this problem?”

Elsa silently stared into space. She was still shaken from her ordeal, and she wasn’t ready to start talking about her powers again, or anything for that matter. All she wanted to do at the moment was drift off to sleep and find herself waking up back in Arendelle. As if her parents’ voyage had never happened. As if everything she was going through was just a part of some complex nightmare. As if at any moment, she was going to hear the familiar sound of Anna’s knocking on her door, asking her to come out and talk to her by singing about building a snowman. Sadly, she knew that her denials of her predicament were pointless to ponder.

As Circe offered the cloak back to Elsa, she said to the princess, “You know Ima, I can help you.”

Elsa responded to neither the sorceress’s words nor the cloak. She wasn’t sure if she should accept Circe’s offer; she didn’t even know what she was going to suggest. Elsa didn’t think that she was capable of being helped, or even worth the trouble, but she was too afraid to find out what would happen to her if she refused.

“I have a bountiful supply of scrolls containing magical knowledge in my library that we could study,” Circe explained. “And there’s plenty of space in my island’s forest to both safely release magical stress and practice using your abilities properly without worrying about others getting hurt or threatening to persecute you. You could stay here as long as you need to until you have a better handle of your powers if you want…”

Elsa still didn’t answer. Circe’s offer was very enticing, but there were things that kept Elsa from wanting to say yes, but that she couldn’t tell the sorceress about: she was still the crown princess of a kingdom whose current rulers had just died, and she needed to be there for the sake of her kingdom since her sister was neither old enough nor prepared enough to rule in her place. She had to at least let her people know that she had survived — even though very few people knew that she had left the kingdom. Elsa was also worried about her sister. She was the only family Anna had left; Elsa wanted to keep her distance to ensure her sister’s safety, but never abandon her.

“You can’t stay silent forever, Ima,” Circe said as she gently placed the cloak in front of Elsa.

Finally, Elsa slowly sat up and shook her head.

Circe groaned. “Why not? I’ve just witnessed both how powerful you are, and how much harm your lack of control is doing to you! You clearly haven’t been made acquainted with a proper teacher, and you desperately need one! If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’ve never even met another mage before I found you, and you’re lucky I did. So why wouldn’t I be your candidate?”

“I appreciate your offer, Circe,” Elsa said as she buried her hands in her jacket, “I really do, but my family needs me. I can’t just leave them. They’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

“Why would you be so concerned about your family?” asked Circe. “As far as I can tell, they’re the reason behind your suppression, and they ABANDONED you on that boat.”

“They were trying to SAVE me,” Elsa protested. “My parents told me they were going to come find me once the storm cleared…”

“Yet, you wouldn’t be here if they did. Now, why do you suppose they hadn’t come for you already?”

Elsa couldn’t answer. She didn’t want to say aloud that her parents had died in the storm. Instead, she lowered her head and pulled the folds of her jacket closer to her body as if it were a blanket. She tried her best to fight the tears that were threatening to burst out like her ice had done just moments ago.

Don’t feel… Don’t feel… Don’t feel…

Elsa hastily slipped her pocketed glove back on and rose to her feet. She struggled to keep her balance as she ran toward the flowerbed where she ed Circe tossing her other glove, leaving a trail of snowflakes suspended in midair behind her.

Don’t feel… Don’t… f-feel… D-don’t… f-f-fee—

“EEeeee!”

Upon reaching the flowers that were hiding her glove, Elsa collapsed onto her hands and knees, trembling as she broke down into uncontrollable sobs. The ground began to freeze over.

Mother, Father, I can’t do it! I can’t go to Corona or continue the voyage without you, I just can’t. I’m not strong enough. You said you would be there to make sure I didn’t lose control, but now you’re gone. Why? Why did you have to stay on the ship? Why couldn’t you accompany me on the lifeboat? I’m lost, I’m scared, I don’t know what to do!

Every inch of Elsa’s body felt like lead. She tried to search through the shrubbery and the veil of tears for her glove, only to make herself pull away after she felt the flowers begin to harden from her touch. The burden of her grief forced itself down on her harder than the pressure that came when Circe had turned her into an orca.

Circe now knew better than to approach the ice wielder when she was stressed. Instead, she took the jar of snowflakes out of its hiding place and examined the contents. Inside the jar, the snowflakes kept switching between fading into a faint silvery mist and attacking each other relentlessly with sharp tinges of yellow, but they primarily settled on the latter.

Denial… Anger… Mostly anger within… She blames herself for something that she wishes never occurred… She is trying to believe that her current state isn’t happening, and failing… Anguish over circumstances beyond her control…

However, with closer inspection, Circe also saw that a few of the snowflakes hidden within the middle of the mist and battle were lavender in color with blood-red tips and suspended in midair.

Sorrow… Fear… Despair… Mourning a loss… Not knowing if things will get better, and assuming that they won’t… Worry for a loved one…

Circe was shocked by all of the emotions that “Ima” had been bottling up, it almost made her wonder how the girl hadn’t caused a whirlwind or broken down sooner. Circe gently placed the jar of snowflakes back beneath its floral refuge, while making a mental note to come back to it later and move the jar somewhere safer, before grabbing the silver cloak that had been left by the fountain. She approached the fallen princess with caution and gently draped the cloak over her quivering shoulders.

At first, Elsa tensed at the cloak’s sudden presence on her back, but the cloak quickly released a warm aura around Elsa that had on her a similar effect to what she experienced when Circe had hypnotized her with her staff. The only difference was that the cloak did not make her forget her pain, only toned it down with a genuine sense of comfort that she hadn’t felt since she was a child in her mother’s arms. It was as if the cloak wasn’t really a cloak made of fabric, but a dear friend in a different form. As her breath steadied, Elsa pulled the cloak in closer while Circe knelt down beside her, smoothing out the areas of the cloak that were threatening to fall off.

“It’s okay,” Circe whispered. “You’re going to be alright. Just breathe, let it all out…”

Author’s Notes: I know, this is a very depressing chapter, but at least I gave a warning in the previous chapter. I personally found myself on the verge of tears while writing about the part where Elsa started crying among the flowers. Hopefully, the chapter that will follow tomorrow shall help readers recover… 🤞🏻

•Next Chapter: Counting Flowers•

#lordsandkings