Chapter Text
Prism’s punishment platoon had been stationed in the smallest outpost near the farthest village in the entire kingdom. Prism had hated it. At first. For a dragon who was eager to show that she could fight, being forced to stay away from the battles was torture.
When Prism joined the platoon, there were only three other dragons—by far the smallest team she’d ever been a part of. At that point, it couldn’t even be called a platoon, as it was more of an iceteam.
Borealis was the largest and the fiercest. While Frost was higher ranked, it was Borealis who made the majority of the decisions for the group. His scales had been a pale green that matched his name and were crisscrossed with scars. Half of his right horn had been snapped off and his left wing was covered in burn scars from a fight with a MudWing.
Frost had been small, lithe, and wily as a fox. Her scales were blue with patches of frosted white that made it look like snowflakes had been glued to her scales. She’d been the friendliest of the group and was eager to include Prism in everything the troupe did—although Prism had been openly hostile for the first few weeks. She’d never understood how a dragon in power had been so . . . happy.
Azure’s scales were radiant blue and if it hadn’t been for the spikes on his neck and his whip thin tail, Prism would have mistaken him for a SeaWing. According to the others, he’d been at the Wolves-That-Howl-At-Midnight outpost for the longest.
For her first few weeks, Prism had wanted nothing more than to claw off someone’s face and fly back to the main front. These dragons were all too friendly for her. She’d been so used to giving orders that she’d forgotten what it was like to be ordered around. There was no fighting anymore. Her life didn’t have any meaning if there was no fighting. That was the only way she could prove herself. Now, she was just . . . useless.
And then, slowly, Prism . . . got used to it. She wasn’t as bitter. She stayed up longer so she could talk with the rest of the team and listen to their own letters, though she entirely ignored all the letters sent from Cobalt. She never even gave Cobalt the satisfaction of opening them. Prism only ripped them up and buried them in snowdrifts.
But things changed again when Penguin joined them.
It had happened unexpectedly.
Prism and the iceteam were sitting in a circle, each one munching on a piece of frozen fruit that the nearest village had imported. Borealis had come back with them after his usual patrol over the village and decided to make tasting them a group appearance.
A shape appeared just outside of the camp, across from Prism and behind Frost. Prism frowned and stood as the dragon started prancing over to them. That dragon. That walk.
Penguin’s face appeared in the dark, with nothing but a small satchel bag and a timid smile that made Prism’s heart flutter.
“P—Penguin?” she asked, taking a step towards him.
“Hey, Snowflake,” he said hesitantly.
She laughed and sprinted toward him. It might’ve been un-IceWing of her, but she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two months. She deserved this.
Prism tackled him into the snow, pulling her wings around him and laughing joyously.
“Oh, come on,” he said with a rough laugh. “I just flew all the way from the Mud Kingdom.” He smacked her with his wing. “Off, off.”
She scrambled off him and waited for Penguin to stand. “What . . . what are you doing here?” she asked incredulously.
He chuckled dryly, adjusting his bag. “It took me a while, but I finally figured out where Queen Glacier had sent you. I, uh, I might’ve left the troops to . . . to be with you.”
Prism smiled softly even as her heart cracked. She stepped forward, brushing her snout with his. “Thank you, Penguin.”
“Of course, Snowflake,” he replied.
Her smile grew and she nudged him towards Frost, Azure, and Borealis, watching eagerly from the circle. “Come on. Let me introduce you to the others.”
After Penguin joined them, Prism didn’t just get used to the platoon. She started enjoying it. She had been forced to go for her parentage, but she stayed for the campsite songs, for the frozen fruit on sticks eaten together, for the playful brawls in the snow. They’d shared stories and laughs. Prism had allowed herself to believe that they could stay like this. Their group grew bigger as the months passed and soon there were ten of them in total: Iceberg, Azure, Chill, Borealis, Shard, Blizzard, Snowstorm, Frost, Penguin, and herself. It started to feel like Prism had a family again.
Then the SkyWings appeared and took them all.
Prism forced that pathway in her mind shut. She couldn’t think about that, not here, not now. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted.
Prism’s eyes caught a flash of light on the horizon and hope fluttered in her chest. When she squinted, she could see the first IceWing village appearing from the fog. It was small, nothing more than a group of organized igloos, but the sight of it sent a hollow pang through her. She’d forgotten how neat and ordered the igloos were, even on the very border of the IceWing Kingdom. She passed over the village as quickly as she could and continued on.
Her head drooped once, and she snapped it up again. No, she hissed in her head. You’re almost there. You’re almost there. Prism had to keep going. She’d been flying without a break for over seven hours. If she was calculating it right, she only had another two hours before she reached Queen Glacier’s palace. Once Prism gave her the earring, she’d take a few hours rest, max, before flying back to Queen Thorn’s palace. She’d have to use the dreamvisitor while she rested to make sure Qibli had woken up and that the others—wherever they were—were still safe.
Moon was still with Darkstalker, Prism realized with a pang of worry. Which meant she was probably under Darkstalker’s spell too. Maybe it was a specialized spell, just like the one on Prism and Winter. They’d need to find a way to get an earring on her and free her from the spell. If it wasn’t a specialized spell, then Moon would likely trust them enough to put on the earring of her own free will, like the dragons at Jade Mountain had.
But if Moon refused to wear the earring, and even fought them about it like Prism and Winter had fought Qibli in the Sand Kingdom, then Prism would be sure that there was a specific spell on her friend. Prism wondered how they’d convince Moon to wear the earring. She didn’t want to attack Moon. Right. That was another problem she’d have to figure that out later.
For now, the queen was the priority.
Prism’s muscles were burning with exhaustion when she first caught sight of Queen Glacier’s palace. She’d slowed down in the past hour and hadn’t been able to speed up again. Her wings felt as heavy as wood and the burns on her wing joint tugged painfully with every flap. She hadn’t flown for this long with her burns before. Her vision blurred for a moment, and Prism found herself tilting in the air. She shook her head and straightened herself out, getting back on her flight path. She couldn’t give in to her exhaustion.
Get to the palace, give Queen Glacier the earrings, and then get back.
Back to Winter.
And Qibli and Moon and Turtle, of course.
But . . . mostly Winter. Prism could still hear his voice.
‘I need you.’
‘You’d better come back soon.’
She exhaled shakily, dipping in the air as she started to prepare for landing. Her grip on the bag slipped and fear raced down her spine, but she quickly tightened her talons on the fabric before it could fall.
Prism soared over the walls of the palace, noting that there were no guards there, which was unusual. There were always IceWings standing at attention, no matter the time of day. A flicker of worry passed through Prism as her talons touched the ground in the courtyard. She nearly collapsed right then and there with sheer relief, her muscles trembling from fatigue. Prism could fall asleep here, rest for a bit . . . regain her strength. Her eyes were closing again, and she buried her face in the snow to wake her up before lifting her head.
She looked around, hoping to find a guard standing nearby that could direct her to Queen Glacier. But the courtyard was empty. Prism felt a wave of horror wash over her. How bad could this sickness be, if not even a single guard was there?
IceWings prided themselves on their ability to stay in the proper position with immaculate posture for hours. Prism had been forced to sit in the guarding position for hours by her mother before she was allowed to eat. If not one dragon was in the courtyard, the enchanted sickness was worse than she’d thought.
Prism took a moment to catch her breath. Her wings stirred up snow, sharp bits of ice pelting her scales as she did so. If she couldn’t find any guards, she’d have to find Queen Glacier by herself. The most reasonable place to find the queen was her room, and thankfully, Prism knew exactly where it was. She jumped into the air, flying to one of the upper levels and speeding through the hallways. The hallways were just big enough for dragons to fly through, although her mother had told her it was frowned upon.
Luckily for Prism, she didn’t care what her mother thought.
The halls were eerily quiet as she flew through them. Worry and unease itched beneath her scales as Prism flared her wings to land in front of Queen Glacier’s door. Two guards were stationed there, but they were slumped against the walls, their spears discarded on the ground beside them. The one on the right looked unresponsive, his eyes shut and his body trembling.
“Who goes there?” the one on the left asked before dissolving into horrible coughing.
Prism wasted no time in explaining. “I came from the Kingdom of Sand. I know that Queen Glacier is sick, and I know how to help.”
The guard coughed again. “You should not be—” He broke off in a coughing fit, and Prism’s heart twisted. She opened the bag and pulled out an earring.
“Take it,” she said. “Please. This sickness, it’s a curse. The earring has been enchanted. You’ll be protected, I swear.” She tilted her head so the guard could see the amber droplet swaying in her own ear. “See? It’s safe, I promise you.”
The guard looked at her suspiciously. “I have never seen you before. I can’t trust you.”
“Please,” Prism begged. “I need to get these to the queen. Can—can I at least speak to one of her daughters?”
The guard on the right opened his eyes, and Prism could see that they were foggy with fever. The two guards exchanged a glance, and then the one on the left stumbled towards the door, opening it with a shaky talon and peering inside.
Prism’s ears picked up the sound of a dragon coughing and another wave of horror washed through her. Queen Glacier sounded as though she was on the verge of death. Maybe if Prism could speak to one of her daughters, they’d be more desperate and willing to put on the earrings.
One dragon, she thought. I only need to convince one dragon.
The guard pulled his head back as an IceWing stepped out of the royal chambers. Crystal, if Prism remembered correctly. Queen Glacier’s oldest and the one expected to take the throne.
“Who are you?” Crystal croaked, lifting her head as if to appear more regal than she actually felt. It didn’t help.
The princess didn’t look any better than the guards. Her eyes were hazy and her entire body was trembling, although she made an effort to lift her wings to prevent them from dragging in the snow.
“My name is Prism,” she answered, bowing deeply. “I’m a student at Jade Mountain, and I know about the sickness. I have something that can help.”
Prism reached into her bag to grab an earring, but before her claws could even brush one, both guards had their spears at her throat. Prism swallowed, lifting her chin.
“We have no time for visitors,” Crystal said. She was almost leaning against the doorframe at this point, Prism realized. The sickness had stripped all of her strength.
“Queen Glacier will recover,” Crystal continued. “I will inform the queen of your presence. We can speak later, when the queen is ready to be seen.”
Prism’s eyes widened. Later? Any longer and the queen might die! She flapped her wings urgently, hoping to convey just how important this was.
“You don’t understand!” Prism cried, but Crystal was already turning back inside. “Princess, this isn’t a normal sickness, it’s a—”
The door slammed shut behind Crystal with a resounding thud that felt like her fate being sealed. Prism’s wings drooped, even as the guards lowered their spears.
“Please—” Prism tried again, but the guard on the left cut her off.
“There’s a free room three doors down,” he wheezed, chest spasming as though he was holding back a coughing fit. “You may wait there, until the queen has called you in.”
Prism searched his eyes, hoping to find any hint of hopelessness she could exploit. She found none.
Defeated, Prism lowered her head and turned left, where the guard had motioned for the free room.
How was she supposed to convince them to let her into the room? All she needed was for one dragon to put on the earrings, and that would—hopefully—encourage all the others to do the same. She’d forgotten just how stubborn IceWings could be.
Prism pushed open the door to her assigned room and shut it behind her. Sighing, she surveyed her room, hoping she wouldn’t spend too long in it.
As far as IceWing rooms went, it seemed standard. Walls, floor, and ceiling all made of ice and polished until Prism could see her own face in the reflection. A square cutout in the back wall gave her a nice view of the deserted courtyard and the ranking wall. The bed was a large ice slab that looked far too hard to sleep on comfortably, although there was a polar bear rug draped half over the bed and another lying on the floor beside it in a heap.
Briefly, she wondered whose room it was and why it was unoccupied, then realized it might’ve been the room of an IceWing killed by the plague and quickly stopped thinking about it.
Gingerly, Prism set the bag of earrings on the ground by the bed, finally taking the time to tie the opening in a knot to ensure no earrings fell out. She straightened and eyed the bed.
It would be best for her to sleep on the bed now, while she had one. That would give her body some semblance of rest for a while before she confronted the guards again. Once she had more energy, she might even be able to try forcing past them. After all, both were sick and should be fairly easy to overpower.
Head drooping, Prism nudged the polar bear rug onto the ice slab. She knew the ice would do some good for her fatigued muscles, but she couldn’t force herself to sleep on a surface so cold and hard. She liked her bedding cold, but not hard as ice.
She curled up on the rug and grabbed the other one, pulling it over her. The fur tickled her nose as she buried her snout in it, closing her eyes. For a moment, she thought she smelled Winter, but her mind must have been playing tricks on her. She’d been thinking about him so much she was starting to hallucinate. She really needed to rest.
Prism had almost succumbed to sleep when she remembered the dreamvisitor. Her head shot up and she quickly scrabbled for the pouch around her neck, pulling the sapphire out and clutching it in her talons.
Her vision blurred for a moment and she blinked hard, forcing her eyes to focus and stop seeing double. How did the dreamvisitor work again? Did she just press it to her forehead and fall asleep?
Then again, even if she remembered how to use it, she didn’t have a guarantee that it would work. With Qibli’s earring on, it might not. Still, she wouldn’t risk taking it off, in case the enchantment took hold again. Prism had no way to fix her brain again if she removed it. She really, really hoped she’d still be able to use it, even with Qibli’s earring on her.
It has to work, she repeated to herself. She put her head back on the rug, closing her eyes and bringing the dreamvisitor up to her forehead. It has to work.
Prism repeated Winter’s name to herself, over and over again, until she finally dropped into blissful, healing sleep.