Disenchantment in Deep Shadow

These days, few visitors seek out the mountain manor held by the most preeminent of the Snegovik, Though it is said that in ages past, many a noble lord would arrive bearing gold-etched invitations to feast within its walls. The silver-haired maiden was once among them, though in those days she had yet to become a mage in the shadows, Nor had she knocked upon any gates concealing secrets. She was merely a court attendant following the Emperor of the North. The idle talk of the fae was always oh-so-stale and wearying. Moreover, being human, The maiden drew too many gazes from those who were not of her kind, and so she quietly slipped away from the banquet hall... Unfortunately, the interior of this thousand-year-old structure was a veritable maze, and by the time the girl — intent only on going upward — realized her mistake, The way back was lost. To return, she would have to navigate a tangle of winding halls and endless stairs, as the moonlight played one trick after another through the windows. But within this uninhabited silence, the maiden finally found a peace that had long eluded her. It was not until the master of the banquet, the princess of the Snegurochka, appeared behind her, That she realized the mistress of all frost and ice had also long since grown tired of her guests' clichés and banalities. Thus, the two had already turned their backs on the banquet. And so, the mistress showed the maiden the paintings, sculptures, and puzzles hidden away in the manor, And the silver-haired maiden met them with a wit and acuity that had already set her apart. Finally, as their talk drew to a close, the princess of the Snegurochka revealed the deft craft of the fae: an entire courtyard shaped from ice that never melts, With towers rising like pillars of salt and trees that swayed without a palpable breeze, along with pale grass, frost-flowers, rabbits, and even an imposing moose. Everything unfolded at their feet, like a dream suddenly spilling from beside a sleeper's pillow. As though she caught the longing in the maiden's eyes, the princess of the Snegurochka offered up a cautionary word. "Even the ice that never melts is but a creation of magic, and thus it cannot truly endure. What you see is but fleeting light and shadow, engraved in the blood of those who were once enslaved. Yet the servants of yore may still perform such wondrous tricks, while the humans who were once their masters can no longer reclaim their former glory." At their parting, the Snegurochka princess fashioned for her a flower from silk. Unlike the unmelted ice, while the vibrant hues of silk might fade, its substance would endure much longer. As she watched the Snegurochka pin the silken gift to her chest with her long, slender fingers, the maiden said with a smile, "I thought... you were only artful in how you wield power to shape all things from ice and snow." "Aksinya," the princess of the Snegurochka replied, "it is never the craft that is artful, but the heart." This is proof of our friendship. From now on, no matter when, I shall be delighted to receive you here."