Fire and Ice

Half an hour of trying got them no closer to progress.

After Ophia tired of casting the same spells to no result, Morenna tried to teach her how to empty her mind and concentrate, which resulted in thirty seconds of silence before Ophia screeched in frustration.

“Fair enough,” Morenna admitted. “Meditative practices take…well, practice. It took me days to get it down.”

“Right, so perhaps not the thing to attempt when we’re down in a dark damp hole and already hitting a wall. What about you? What does magic feel like when you do it?”

“Nothing at all like you describe. My magic doesn’t create anything; I can only work with what’s already there, all around me.”

Ophia began pacing back and forth, never slipping even when she stepped in patches of ice. “So this is like a fish trying to teach a bird to fly.”

“Poetic. And…accurate. I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop apologizing,” Ophia said irritably. “I know you’re trying. Trust me, I’ve known girls who absolutely would try to get me down in the ancient evil basement to waste time for their own amusement; I know what that looks like. You’re too forthright, Morenna, and frankly not a people person.”

“Also accurate,” Morenna admitted. “What if… Okay, how about this. What is your earliest memory of doing magic?”

“Earliest? I don’t know, Morenna, I could make little puffs of snowflakes since…before I could form memories.”

“Hmm…” Morenna started to pace alongside her, immediately slipped on a patch of ice, and after catching her balance remained standing in place. Ophia kindly pretended not to have seen. “Maybe there’s something there. Instead of fighting against what you already know, let’s try working with how you originally learned.”

“It was…instinct, though. A child’s instinct. Like… This is like trying to explain to you how I know how to move my arms, while you try to tell me I have another set of invisible arms I’ve never seen but could move if I thought about it hard enough.”

“Exactly!” Morenna nodded. “Let’s try going back as far as you can—to the most primitive way of thinking you’ve ever had. The most basic, childlike instinct, like moving your arms. Maybe the fire is there.”

“I’m not sure…how to…”

Ophia trailed off, frowning and staring into space. Morenna remained silent, watching her.

“I remember Father boasting about my talent… And Mother helping me control it. Both constantly talked of discipline. So did the tutor they brought in for me. But before that, when I was a little girl…I remember…”

She raised both her arms to either side, and took a smooth step backward, closing her eyes.

“I remember now. I would dance!”

Ophia spun, flowing into an elegant court dance, and with each wide sweep of her arms she brought forth ice. The spells were different now, though: walls of solid ice were graceful, organic-looking sculptures in contrast with the plain utilitarian barriers of before, and the patterns of frost she cast across the ground flowed into spiraling fractals.

And the whole time, she remained in motion, her graceful steps never slipping on her own ice. Eyes closed and lips curled up in calm satisfaction, Princess Ophia danced amid her frigid works.

“That’s…different,” said Morenna, watching carefully. “I looks like it’s…more you somehow.”

“It feels like it’s more me!” Ophia replied, still dancing. “Oh, they had to drill me to make simple, consistent shapes. This is what my magic wants to do!”

“These are still your stronger spells, though—I think we were making progress, taking you back into the past. Or…did you start casting these as a child?”

“Hmm…no.” Ophia’s graceful twirling slowed to a halt and she opened her eyes, frowning. “You’re right. Back then, back at the very beginning, it was more…”

She trailed off, struggling to remember. Morenna watched silently, giving her sister space to think.

Slowly, Ophia resumed dancing, her movements now less controlled—more energetic and carefree, and still not slipping as she stepped on ice. She spun in wild circles, actually hopping off the ground.

“So joyful and free,” she whispered as she twirled. “Like nothing has ever been since then. And the snowflakes, they were so pretty…”

Bursts of them flew from both her hands, her spinning pattern causing sprays of white flakes to dance upon the air, glittering in the lamplight. She whirled one way, then the other, casting graceful flurries as she went.

“It was just pretty. I had nothing to worry about, no discipline and no objectives…the snow was just so beautiful. Like stars floating in the air from my hands. Glittering…glowing…”

Ophia spun a full circle and leaped, crossing her arms before her face, and then sweeping them out behind herself as she landed in a controlled slide upon a patch of ice. Slowflakes burst from the fingers of her right hand, and from her left…

Sparks.

Morenna watched avidly, her own hands clasped in front of her throat, as Ophia laughed aloud and twirled back into a dance, swinging her arms and continuing to cast snowflakes in one direction, and then sparks in another. She was so joyous and alive, it was as if the magic was pouring forth from her of its own will.

Snow and sparks, both dancing and disappearing upon the air as the Princess whirled through their brief lives, laughing and unleashing the part of herself that had been locked away for so long. She spun and leaped and pranced, casting sparks and snowflakes more and more frequently until the energy seemed to build up until she could no longer help herself.

From one hand sprayed out another sweeping, abstract sculpture of flowing ice, curling through the air like a serpent, and after spinning completely around within its coils, Ophia unleashed a gout of roaring flame that blasted along the frozen track. Steam roiled around her as she laughed in glee amid the heat, ice flashing into vapor and flames danced about her like a cloud of butterflies.

Watching from the side with secure certainty that Ophia was paying her no attention, Morenna could only beam in vicarious delight at the spectacle, and now found herself applauding at her sister’s triumph. The sound of clapping echoed through the ancient vault, until both girls noticed something in the noise which broke the spell and made them freeze in unison.

They turned to stare at the entry, where hands were still clapping. The hands of their younger sister, Princess Espa.

“That’s amazing!” Espa squealed. “How did you do that?”