Running around crowded places is definitely not convenient. It’s almost impossible on market days and festivals, so just imagine what it was like the day the magician’s palace opened to the public for the first time. The witch was already popular before then, so when a gigantic crowd formed in front of the ice palace, no one was surprised. Instead of impatiently complaining, everyone rejoiced together, and started partying as they waited to get in.

The witch had arrived about a month before. One cold morning, the people living on the seaside woke up to see a gigantic iceberg had crashed into the cliff. It happened quite often, especially during the summer, as the icebergs drifted around until the cold would settle in again. Everyone expected it to be gone within a few days at most, but after a week, it was still there, and it hadn’t melted one bit despite the sun and the heat coming from the city. Two weeks after it first crashed, the people woke up to find it transformed into a luxurious palace, carved into the ice within a single night. Both amazed and terrified, they sent a few guards to check it out, but the doors were sealed, and the ice apparently impossible to break or melt. All they could do was wait.

After yet another week of anxiously waiting, everyone received a letter, which seemingly came from the palace. The entire townsfolk gathered on the main plaza, to discuss whether or not it was safe to open the envelope. Even its appearance was unusual, the paper being light blue and cold to the touch, the seal obviously made of the same ice as the palace. Everyone was extremely cautious, not wanting to risk another curse: A plague had been decimating most of the kingdom, and this small town was the only one that hadn’t been infected in the east coast. They wanted to preserve their safety and seeing themselves surrounded by a deadly plague was enough danger to deal with.

One of the townsfolk had to open their envelope first, to see if it would blow up or unleash some kind of evil spirit. Fran, the daughter of one of the richest merchants, watched her older brother, Isak, lift his arm up and shout, “I’ll do it!”. The man was barely twenty, so the older men started arguing back and forth: “It should be an older one. He is too young to risk his life!” or, “If he is younger, he is more likely to survive! He is strong.”. Usually, the quarrels between the fathers and grandfathers lasted for hours, and Isak wasn’t in the mood to entertain this debate: He stood up on the edge of the fountain, and ripped open the envelope, immediately ducking as he held it up above his head. Everyone else followed, covering their heads, and even crouching to keep themselves safe. A minute or two went by, and no one rose up. Fran was the first one to do so, her brother standing up right after.

“Nothing happened!”

The siblings shouted, and people rose up one by one, ripping open their letters one by one. Some still flinched when they did, others carefully lifted the seal, keeping the envelope away from their faces. Within another minute, every envelope was open, no evil spirit had jumped out, and no one had been blown up. Fran joined her brother on the fountain and cleared her throat. Most of the townsfolk were farmers and factory workers, so none of them could read the letter by themselves. Being the daughter of a rich merchant, Fran had been sent to school in the capital. She was able to read the letter out loud and revealed to her audience that the letter did come from the odd palace. The person who lived there seemed to be some sort of magician and had come to help the kingdom recover from the damage the plague had caused. The magician invited them all to the palace the next week, in order to introduce themselves but also to put a protection spell on whoever wants one. The friendly tone of the letter led the people to trust the magician almost instantly, and everyone cheered, relieved.

After reading, Fran hopped down the fountain along with her brother. Everyone headed back home and started getting ready for the next day’s market.

A week later, so. Everyone had decided to wear their best attire, some had packed their ice skates, others carried their fur coats. It was intriguing to see everyone dressed in summery outfits and yet carrying these wintry items. Fran and Isak were of those carrying blades in their pouch, as their mother asked them. Their parents had stayed behind, but Fran and Isak proudly stood in front of the palace doors, along with a bunch of other young people. They had woken up early to be ahead of the crowd, impatient to see the inside of this palace and to meet this magician. The younger boys imagined him to be strong and full of scars, like a knight, while the older ones said they would be an old wizard, with a long white beard and a pointy hat. The girls imagined a rich, handsome, young prince that could summon good spirits and spit fire. Fran didn’t seem to pay much attention to their fantasies, she couldn’t really portray the magician.

The way the letter was written gave too little clues. Its friendly tone was simply to encourage the townsfolk to accept the invitation, it was insincere and didn’t let the least bit of a personality seep through. She couldn’t figure out anything about the mysterious sender, so she couldn’t put a face on them either.

When the gates opened, they did so on their own. What the little group hadn’t expected, is that they’d do so outwards, shoving them to the side in the process. Everyone else quickly rushed into the main hall, making it impossible for the youths to get in. Fran and Isak’s parents went by, waving at their disappointed children as they were carried away by the crowd. Fran sighed, as she watched everyone push each other around in order to get into the palace first. Her brother and friends tried to push through and get into the crowd too, in vain. She decided to wait it out and went down to the seashore. The tide was low, it was the perfect time for a walk on the beach.

By the time she came back up on the cliff, it was almost sunset. Everyone had only started leaving the palace, which was still crowded. She sat down under a tree nearby and watched as more and more people walked out, seemingly very enthusiastic. Fran could only assume the magician was a kind man, as no one bothered to check on her, nor did she want to question the townsfolk. She had to see it by herself.

Soon enough, the night had fallen over the city, and a few people were pushed out of the palace as the gates closed. Everyone had gone to the nearest pubs and bars, and the area was vibrant with joy and excitement. From her tree, Fran could hear shouting and drunken singing; the town hadn’t been so lively in months. Even if she didn’t get to see the magician this time, she’d be back the next morning. Surely, there would still be a chance to meet them.

In the meantime, she decided to go see the building from up close. Since it first appeared, no one but the guards dared to approach it until the day they were asked to come and greet the magician. That day, the amount of people made it impossible to clearly see the complex architecture of the palace. Fran touched the walls, gates, and tall columns that seemed to hold it all into place. The ice didn’t feel carved, it was all incredibly smooth. Just as if it just appeared, like this… But she had seen the iceberg herself.

The palace wasn’t lit up; however, she could see the faint flame of a candle on the edge of a window, at the very top of the building. This meant the magician was up there, she thought. Fran was lost in thought, trying to imagine who could be in this room, when a silhouette showed up to the window. She saw shoulder length hair, delicate yet sharp shoulders, a tall figure… “He must really be handsome”, she caught herself thinking. The silhouette waved at her from up there, and she quickly waved back. Despite how slender this magician was, she imagined them to be not only strong and handsome, but also powerful and wealthy; a combination of everything her friends had mentioned earlier this day. This only made her more curious, but there was no way to figure anything out. Soon enough, the silhouette was gone.

Fran stared up at the window for a few seconds, before turning away. Before she started walking off, she noticed the gate was slightly open, just enough for her to squeeze through. But when she walked past the gates a few minutes before, they were completely sealed… This entire palace kept teasing her curiosity. After a minute of hesitation, she peeked inside the castle, wanting to check out the main hall. The floor was, indeed, made of ice, but long, dark red carpets were laid across the hall to form a path to the different rooms and corridors, making the ice skates most people packed useless. The structure was similar to a church’s, two arches crossing each other. An unlit chandelier hung where they met. The main stairway was right in front of the gate and was the only source of light. It was hard to believe a single candle could light up an entire stairway, especially one this big, but the light seemed to reflect itself on the walls.

Fran stepped inside, entranced. She did her best to be quiet and promised herself she would leave after checking out the entirety of the main hall- but as soon as she was inside, the gates shut themselves behind her. She tried to push them open, without success; it seemed that she was stuck.

The chandelier lit up by itself, letting Fran discover the detail of the iced walls. They were carved, words from another language spread across the hall and around each door. The arches were also sculpted, strange shapes unravelling the story of an unknown war. Thanks to the chandelier, Fran was now able to see the corridors, which seemed to be never-ending rows of doors. They all looked the same, none really piqued Fran’s interest. Only one thing had her attention: this massive staircase, standing proudly in front of her. There was no way out, so what did she have to lose? It would be easier to ask the owner of this place to open the gates, apologize, and leave quickly. Besides, everyone seemed to be so pleased with this magician, she was sure to leave unharmed.

She took a deep breath, ready to face the awkwardness of the situation, and walked upstairs. The sound of her heels against the ice echoed through the entire hall, then the staircase. There was no way to be silent. She found, at the end of a corridor, the dimly lit room, which seemed to be some kind of office. The person Fran was looking for was seated at a desk facing the wall, browsing through books. Despite the echoing sound of Fran’s steps, it seemed like she’d gone unnoticed. She stood at the door and looked around the room, noticing a gigantic bookshelf that was carved into the ice, and the single candle on the edge of the window. After a few moments spent standing there in silence, Fran decided to speak up.

“Excuse me…”

Immediately, the magician shut their book and stood up, then turning around to finally face Fran. The magician stood up to an incredible height, probably a head or two taller than Fran. Her dark hair, which barely reached down to her shoulders, was a great contrast with her pale skin, and somehow brought out her even darker eyes. Her lips were tinted in dark red, a shade similar to her long dress and to the jewel hanging from her ears. The golden ornaments were only a bit of her apparel: she wore a golden chain around her neck, from which hung an opal pearl, and at her waist hung a golden rope, which was seemingly used as a belt. Her dress wasn’t long enough to cover her leather boots, which were also decorated with golden chains. Really, Fran had been expecting anything but a woman this beautiful.

“My long-awaited visitor finally showed up, I see. You like playing hard to get, is that it?”

At these words, Fran could only shake her head in confusion, not sure what such a statement implied nor what was the meaning behind it.

“Of course not! It’s not like that, not at all!”

“Then why didn’t you come this morning?”

The tall woman walked closer, raising a brow. She looked incredibly smug, and even more intimidating. The closer she got, the more Fran was nervous; the depth of those dark eyes, along with the coldness of that insistent stare froze her into place.

“It was too crowded. I thought I would wait until it was calmer…”

“It is much calmer now…”

The smirk on the witch’s lips didn’t fade one bit, and though she stood at a reasonable distance, Fran could only feel crushed by the height and confidence of the woman facing her. How come everyone was so happy after visiting that witch, she was so threatening!

“Ah, I’m sorry for coming in, I just wanted to take a quick look. I should leave, right?... The gates- “

“Leave now? You haven’t even introduced yourself, don’t be so rude. Follow me, it’ll be quick.”

The woman walked past Fran, swift and… Silent? While it was impossible for Fran not to make a huge ruckus as she walked, the witch did so without a sound. Self-conscious, she tried to follow the magician as quietly as possible, nervously biting the inside of her cheeks. This whole situation was way too nerve-wracking. She expected a handsome, kind, powerful man, and she was greeted by a beautiful, scary, powerful woman. This wasn’t going as planned, at all! Just why was everyone so happy when they came out? Maybe she was nicer. Fran did bother her so late in the evening… Was she going to get cursed? Was it what was going to be quick? So many possibilities rushed through her mind, and each one of them scared her more than the previous one. If only she had waited until the next day…

Before she could finish her inner monologue, the witch took her to a different room, full of different tools, talismans, and odd bottles. Cards were spread across a table on the side, along with pouches overflowing with colorful powders. Scrolls of all kinds were scattered across the black carpet, which was thick enough to let Fran walk around quietly. She looked around the workshop in awe, forgetting her worries for a moment. That was until the witch spoke, her silvery voice making Fran jump.

“Sit down over here, I won’t take long.”