So, this is the Crystal Palace.

 

His feet crunching on the fresh snow, the sorcerer and self-professed "Master of Secrets" Noah ever-falling powder concealed his footprints just as swiftly. Not that he had to worry about others following him; no one from Arenvelle would dare make the dizzying trek up this path. Even dressed in fur and sheathed in a heating spell, he could feel the chill mercilessly bite at his skin. How could people live like this? In this realm of constant winter, the massive castle of ice before him was truly amazing to withhold. Though the sun rose directly above it, highlighting the crystalline material and giving it a truly radiant sheen, not a single droplet fell from the castle. Yet, for all of its delicate beauty, it was said to have been there for centuries, and no army had ever broken through its walls. Noah could believe it; it was indeed a beautiful edifice befitting royalty and its silent guardian. All the more appropriate given the tales he heard since stepping foot in Arenvelle.

 

"The Snow Queen," he murmured, closing dark brown eyes after a particularly strong wind gust. It seemed too unbelievable. Granted, there was often a seed of truth in old legends; as one who reveled in uncovering secrets, he ought to know that better than most. The historians he conversed with spoke of an incalculable bounty of diamonds and gems hidden away within that castle, enough so a mere handful would ensure a family's fortune for generations to come.

 

But, they also warned of its guardian. A swiftly muttered spell had much needed warmth race through his blood, his mind went back to the discussion in the libraries. For within that palace, keeping a lonely vigil within its frigid halls, was said to be some sort of winter spirit. A creature as beautiful as a snowflake, yet as merciless as a blizzard, able to freeze a man's very soul with a look and shatter them with a mere touch. The greedy and desperate tried to lay hands on the treasure, while the bold and ambitious sought the glory slaying the Snow Queen would bring. All would fail. The most fortunate returned merely chilled but chastened. The less fortunate, it was whispered, were turned into frozen statues with the souls trapped within, their faces contorted in eternal horror and added to her "collection" of sculptures.

 

Only the foolish and suicidal would travel that way, young mage, the loremaster had cautioned. Turn back; the secrets you seek aren't worth your life.

 

That gruesome reveal almost put Noah off of this journey.

 

Almost.

 

Surely, he theorized while struggling against the howling winds, this "Snow Queen" was more myth than reality. More than likely a bunch of winter wolves and wild animals took the place as their own. Maybe this Queen was as mortal as he, just some low-level witch using the legend to lay claim to the palace and keep people away by casting a few cold-based spells now and then. Or perhaps the treasure itself was the myth, and the castle was merely an immaculately-kept ruin. So many possibilities and theories. There was only one way to learn the truth and the palace's secret.

 

Eyes closed, at one with the perfect stillness around him, he carefully approached the overwhelming castle. The earlier cold was almost balmy compared to the arctic stillness radiating from the walls, an intensity that completely encased boulders in foot-thick ice. Even a brief touch, had it not been for his magical protection, would have ensured severe frostbite. This wasn't some natural cold; he knew magic well enough to know that. Oh no. This was a supernatural chill formed by someone--or something--who had the cold as a lover and mastered it in a way archmages would drool over. And if that was the case, then what other secrets--and delights--awaited him within?