Hi everyone! I've been super-busy. I don't know if anyone is still reading this, but if they are, please let me know what you think! This and the one I'm working on are really hard to write because of the character interactions. I guess I should stop saying that every chapter, though... 

Anyway, I would love feedback.

To summarize, Ellie is unconscious with hypothermia and some sort of ice powers and Sable is worried she may be a threat to the throne for some distant reason.

To read the previous chapters, please go here:

Chapter 7- https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=76055
Chapter 6- https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=75647
Chapter 5- https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=75388
(Chapter 5 also has links to chapters 1-4)

Please enjoy and let me know what you think!


There is no greater sign of love
Than fighting,
Then making up,
And living together like docile doves.

SIBLING QUARREL

Nido, in the form of a dashing eighteen-year-old man, knocked on Sable’s door quietly. “Sable?”

He heard a chair scrape against the floor, a thump, something crashing to the floor followed by a rather loud curse, and then the door opened. “What?” Sable eyed him irritably, the room beyond dark except for a single lamp. Though she was in her nightgown, Nido had a feeling she hadn’t been sleeping. “Why aren’t you in bed?” Sable demanded. “It’s, like…” She turned, squinted at a clock, and finished. “…four in the morning.”

“Why are you up?” Nido whispered quietly.

Sable frowned. “No reason.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.” Nido rolled his shoulders, shrinking to a small child, and his lip quivered. “You’re hiding something from me.”

“I don’t hide things from you, Nido,” Sable retorted, her grip on the door’s edge tightening. She looked ready to slam it. “Stop beating around the bush. Tell me why you came here.”

“I had…”

“A nightmare?”

“No.” Nido sighed. “I don’t come to you for nightmares. I had a whim, that’s all.”

“Well, go to bed,” Sable said, “and have whims at a time other than four in the morning.”

“Sable, why are you bleeding?”

“I’m not-“

Nido raised one hand and pointed to her arm. A thin tentacle of blood, a thread of crimson, had woven its way down her left hand and was starting to drip onto the floor. Sable gave it but a quick glance. “I shattered a mirror. I cut myself cleaning up. It’s okay.”

“Did you shatter a mirror, or the Mirror?” Nido asked.

“A mirror, Nido.” Sable rolled her eyes. “Go on. Go to bed.”

“Wait- what are you going to do about Freyja and Ellie?”

“I’ll do with Freyja what I’ve always done,” Sable answered, “and as for Ellie… well, I was hoping you could figure something out. Watch her. Ascertain how much of a threat she is, and deal with it accordingly.”

“I understand.” He half-bowed- only half, not because he didn’t respect her, but because it was far too formal to fully bow to one’s sister. Sable would probably be irritated if he did give her a full inclination of the torso. It felt good to know that she trusted him enough to watch Ellie, a potential threat, and that she wasn’t snapping at him and yelling to leave her alone at this godforsaken hour.

“Thank you, Nido.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy one; it was more a smile of relief. 

“Why do you do this?” Nido had to ask. “Why do you care about the Mirror and the Kingdom? You didn’t want the throne.”

“True, but now it’s mine, and now I’m keeping it.”

For a second, as Sable turned to shut the door, Nido thought he saw the line of blood sprouting from her wrist coming from where manacles had rubbed the skin raw, and as he squinted, he thought he saw the iron, could hear the chains and links clanking as she moved.

When he rubbed his eyes, the manacles were gone. He’d imagined them, as he’d once imagined the ropes around Sable’s feet, or the noose around his own neck.

“Good night, Sable,” he said to the closed door.




Sable stepped over the teeth of glass lying on the floor, ignored the broken mirror’s frame, and sat down at her desk again. She picked up her pen and started to write, but it took her at least ten minutes to realize she’d written the same thing over and over again.

The Mirror The Mirror The Mirror The Mirror The Mirror

Sable sighed, set down the quill, and changed into her more casual robes. It seemed she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t want to do this,” she said.

Sable pulled a cloak on and, barefoot, exited her room. No one was awake at this time, but she had to make this quick before the morning staff woke to start the preparations for her dawn and breakfast. She resisted the urge to run and had to force her legs to stop shaking as she climbed the steps of one of the palace’s towers. At last, when she came to a heavy door of ice, she had to disengage five locks, which made far too much noise as the bolts slid loose.

Then she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. It was absolutely dark, darker than what Freyja claimed her soul looked like, and Sable waited- not for her eyes to adjust, for eyes need light in order to do so, and here there was none.
A light glimmered in the distance, and then erupted into a conflagration of beams, displaying a mirror set in an ivory frame.

Sable drew near and gently tapped the glass’s surface. “Hello, Mirror,” she said. “My, how I’ve missed you.”

Her reflection winked back. “And I as well,” it replied. “Greetings, Sable Iceheart. Do you remember me?”

“How could I forget?” Sable asked her reflection, an almost perfect representation were it not for the eyes. Sable had far icier eyes, and the reflection had far lighter hair, a near-white blonde.

“I so like it when you say my name,” the reflection in the Mirror said. “Come on; say my name, and then we’ll get talking, as we usually do.”

“Of course. Let’s talk, Sabina.”

The reflection nodded. “What’s first?”

“Ellie. She’s Freyja’s daughter, correct?”

“Nope!” Sabina laughed. “Freyja wishes, and she’d probably say so, to both you and the girl. But you’re close.”

“Then who is she?”

“Hmm…” Sabina tapped her cheek. “What would be the fun in telling you?” She shook her head. “Sable, she’s a danger to us. Just as Freyja is. Just as Nido will be.”

Sable took a step back. “No, not Nido. I’ve practically raised Nido after our parents… no, he’d never turn on me.”

“Oh, really?” Sabina shrugged. “Well, it’s your call. You’re the one outside the Mirror. You’re the one with the body.”

“What, you think you’d do better?”

“Oh, I know I will, Sable.”

“Will?”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Sabina replied. “You feel it already. You’re drawn to the Mirror, and I’m drawn to what’s out of it.”

“I would smash you to bits, you stupid, stupid cursed oculus!” Sable hissed.

“Then do it!” Sabina challenged, almost snarling. Then she laughed and seemed to lean back. “But you won’t. You need me,” Sabina said. “I give you what you need to maintain your throne, and you give me the eyes to see my kingdom. My kingdom, Sable. You’re just taking care of it for me.”

“Shut up! You know as well as I do that it’s mine. I’m Sabina Rerren, not you!” Sable snapped. “I’m Sabina! I’m Anya and Edmund’s daughter, and you’re just my reflection!”

“But if it’s your kingdom,” said Sabina, “and I’m you, then that’d make it mine as well.”

“You’re nothing but a phantom the Mirror projects,” Sable said.

“A phantom produced from the depths of your mind,” Sabina said. “I’ll miss you, Sable, when I break out and you get broken in.”



“Good morning, Master Nyiarenel-Dorian!” chirped the morning barber.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it, Master Nyiarenel-Dorian!” sang a line of maids as Nido walked through the palace, towards the feasting chambers.

“Anything we can do for you, Master Nyiarenel-Dorian?” inquired a gang of butlers.

“You can buzz off, like the bees we never have this far north,” Nido glowered, and taking the blatant hint, they bowed and elegantly strode away. Nido never bothered correcting the servants when they addressed him by his real name; as far as he was concerned, servants had no right to call him by his nickname. He supposed Freyja didn’t either, and made a mental note to find some suitable punishment for when she’d insulted both his proper name and his now-gone mustache at their last meeting.

“Good morning, Master Nyiarenel-Dorian,” greeted the servants in the feasting hall as Nido took his seat. All three courses of the morning meal were set out on the table, silver platters on a tablecloth of purest white. The courses seemed to be fruit platters, bacon-egg-tomato sandwiches of some sort, and a variant of ice cream. It is amazing, Nido thought, how sick of ice cream at every meal a creature of snow could be.

“Hey,” he said to servant-whatever-his-name-was to his left. “Where’s Sable?”

“Her Majesty the Queen has taken ill,” the servant answered. “She apologizes for being unable to take her breakfast with you as she usually does.”

Nido nodded and took a bite of his sandwich, then glanced at his watch. If he took the form of one of the Fenris, the giant wolves that had a habit of attacking Frost Breathers, he could make it to the farthest-north human town in about a day’s worth of travel, and from there he could easily make his way to Gett City, just another hour’s travel by train. Of course, it’d be faster if he remained a Fenris the whole time, but as stupid as humans were, they weren’t blind. They were bound to notice a ten-foot-long black and white wolf.

“Let Sable know I’ll be gone for a couple days,” Nido said. “She’d understand.”

The servant’s eyebrows squeezed together, crinkling his forehead. “Her Majesty requested you see her before leaving the palace for any reason,” he said.

“Yes, well, she can request all she wants. She’s not my mother,” Nido grumbled.

“Yes, she thought you might say that,” the servant replied, grimacing. Clearly, he did not want to be Sable’s messenger. “She asked me to remind you that any disobedience of the will of the queen constitutes as treason.”

“She wouldn’t prosecute me,” Nido said. “I’m the head of her great inquisition. Not that she’d call it that. Anyway, I’m her family.”

“Her Majesty, it seems, knows you well. She gave me a response to this: look at Freyja.”

“Freyja’s not family,” Nido said, crossing his arms and curling his toes. This was impudence; he should have punished the servant, but Nido liked to think he was above shooting the messenger.

“Her Majesty wholeheartedly agrees,” the servant nodded. “She begs you to see her because you are her family.”

Nido sighed loudly and plucked at his sleeve, then nodded. “Yeah, whatever. Fine. I’ll go see her.”

“Very good, sir.” The servant bowed. “Shall I tidy up your breakfast?”

A burst of air escaped Nido’s nostrils in a huff. “I said I’d see her,” he griped. “I didn’t say I’d do it before I finished eating.”




“I’m here now,” Nido complained.

Sable’s room held remnants from a past Nido had not been a part of. It had no windows, but the entire north wall was a pane of glass, sunlight streaming in during the day and quicksilver moonlight dripping past shadows in the night. Today, the curtains were drawn, making the room very dim, accentuating the hues of crimson and black. Mounted on the western wall were taxidermied heads of slain game, including a lion, a humongous Fenris with teeth longer than Sable’s arm, and a frost giant. Below the mounted heads, Sable had hung a painting. It was a canvas and oil work, depicting a mustachioed man in deep, somber thought wearing a purple sash, his arm around the waist of a thin, pale woman with green eyes and a resemblance to Sable and Freyja, no doubt his mother. Next to them, a teenage Sable- or, at least, he assumed she was a teenager, but Sable still looked like that even now at two hundred and thirty-two- and Freyja smiled at the artist. A fourth woman skulked near the edge. She looked familiar, but Nido didn’t recognize her.

Nido walked to the painting and looked into the eyes of his father and mother, those who’d left him for the rimy afterlife before he’d turned a year old. He knew what they looked like, of course. Their painting hung in the Hall of Ancestors, and they had several statues in the courtyard and a memorial Sable had created for them in Arctic City. He could see how Sable had his mother’s eyes and sharp, shapely jaw, and how all three of the Rerren siblings had their father’s long, curly hair. His parents always seemed so stern in the pictures and statues, unsmiling and strict. He couldn’t imagine them raising two daughters with that distant air of superiority. Maybe that explained why Sable and Freyja were the way they were, but maybe not.

“If they could,” Nido mumbled, “what would they tell us?”

“Ah, I see you’re staring at them,” Sable said. Nido turned. She was lying in bed, a combination of red curtains, fluffy comforters, and three times as many pillows as seemed proper for a bed with but one occupant. She was struggling to prop herself up, and with a blow to the stomach, Nido saw how pale she was. He switched out of boyhood to have the slender arms of a young man, arms strong enough to help his sister up.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m not feeling well, and get dizzy when I sit up, so…”

“You should lie down again.”

Sable tried to move a hand dismissively, but the motion faltered, and then fell apart. “After you go.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“About an hour or two’s worth,” Sable said. “Anyway, to answer your question, Mother and Father would probably give us a lecture on how badly we’ve pissed them off.” She scowled at the painting. “That’s all they ever told anyone.”
Nido supposed Sable would know, but he decided to dismiss it. In his mind, his parents were the noblest, kindest, best possible match. His fantasies made them out to be near-gods, perfection incarnate, as if he was Romulus and they were Jupiter and Venus, even if the facts disagreed.

Before a silence could fall, Sable said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

When she didn’t answer, Nido didn’t press. “Those heads on the wall,” he changed the subject. “Did you used to hunt?”

“Before you were born, I went with Father,” Sable shrugged half-heartedly. “Before he got himself killed.”

“You killed an ice giant?” Nido mimicked the perpetual expression of agony and rage that the taxidermy portrayed.

Sable chuckled.

“Yes, I did. That… was an interesting time.”

“You killed a Fenris too,” Nido noted. “Cool.”

“Not cool. They actually have an extremely high body temperature,” Sable said. “One of the signs of a Fenris is steam rising from paw prints, as opposed to a regular wolf. In any case, I didn’t fell it before it left its own mark.” She smirked. “I have scars from where it nearly tore off my arm.”

“You never took me hunting,” Nido remarked.

“Oh, my apologies, Nido. It is indeed a great sin that I, amidst running our dear country, keeping the humans away, managing foreign relations with the Alti and Djinn, and having my own health go on strike, I never took you hunting.” Sable frowned. “You know I catch ill easily. Shortly after Father’s death, my health began deteriorating. Tell you what, though: once it recovers, I’ll take you.”

Sable’s health had always been a rather fragile flower, and Nido doubted it would get any better. In fact, it was clearly getting worse. Nido knew she would never take him, but he also knew better than to voice this.

“So, why did you call me here?” Nido asked. “I was going to take care of Ellie for you.”

“Mm, I wanted to ask you if you like red or white trim better,” Sable answered. “I’m redecorating the palace.”

“Again? You just gave most of it a new coat of blue,” Nido said incredulously.

“Yes, yes, but that was ages ago,” Sable replied, with a click of the tongue. “Outdated and out of fashion.”

“It’s been blue for all of a month,” Nido continued.

“As I said, ages,” Sable retorted. “Answer the question, Nido, or I’ll pick without your input.”

“How’re you going to afford another redecoration?” Nido inquired. “It’s not like money grows like crystals.”

“I’m the queen, Nido. I can afford whatever I want to,” Sable snapped.

“So, taxpayer dollars? I know we’re sort of an absolute monarchy, but even that’s kind of getting close to frivolous,” Nido said.

“How very dare you.” Sable weakly slapped his arm.

“Ow.” Nido rolled his eyes. “Wow, Sable. How cruel.That really hurt.”

“Really, Nido? Taxpayer dollars?” How petty do you think I am? I’m using the money Father left me for my dowry. I mean, let’s face it, between work, my health, and the Mirror, I’ll never have the time to go courting, much less get married.”

“Sable,” ventured Nido, “about the Mirror… would it have anything to do with your health?”

“No, and I would appreciate-“

“Appreciate what?” Nido interrupted. “You sneak up every night. I know that’s where you were, Sable! Your health is degrading, your moods are getting worse… I can’t see you like this.”

“Then don’t look!” Sable countered. “I need that Mirror, Nido.”

“No, you don’t,” Nido said. “The Mirror needs you. Do you really think Freyja attempting a stupid coup right after coming into contact with it was a coincidence? Or Mother committing suici-“

“Trim,” Sable said. “White or red?”

“White!” Nido shot back, realizing his stay was coming to a close. “Why do you need to change the trim anyway?” He began to stride to the door. “You loved the blue.”

“I did,” Sable admitted. “I still do, but I know you hated it.”

“You don’t have to change the trim just because I hate it,” Nido said.

“I don’t,” Sable agreed, “and yet I’m doing it anyway.” She waved. “Ta-ta, Nido. Happy travels.”

 Your very talented! but you know what would make your story better? Me! haha no but Id love to appear in one! (:

Glaceonwhisper : I'll see what I can do. And thank you for the compliment!

Dragonlord Stephi : No prob steph!

A user of this : No problem; thanks for responding! And as for Sable killing the giant, that was before her health took a downturn (obviously). There's a lot about Sable and Freyja's past I have yet to reveal, the least of which was their hunting expeditions...