(The Queen’s point of view)

“No!” she shrieked and hurled a glass flask against the wall of her secret chamber under Nordenstein Castle. The sharp pieces scattered in all directions. 

Her familiars, the crows, cawed in distress by her sudden burst of anger. They flew around her. Their loose, black feathers made a mess over the tables and cabinets of supplies.

“I worked,” the Queen seethed with clenched teeth, “too hard to get in contact with Fenrir’s hellhounds for it to end up like that. How dare they turn their backs on me!”

She spent days testing chemicals to create a unique spell—one that would allow her to communicate outside of Midgard, especially one as difficult as the hellish afterlife. It was located in the roots of the Yggdrasil tree where all layers of the universe resided. Though she was talented at formulating potions and complicated rune designs that could not be found in any book, even her ability to contact those demons had its limits.

But regardless of her brief conversation with the hellhound alpha, they made a deal—capture Snow White, bring him to the temporary portal, and she would transport them to Midgard, too. Of course, the hellhounds didn’t know they’d be nothing but ghosts on Earth since they were already dead, but those mutts didn’t know that. 

It was a great deal for both of them. A contract was formed. It couldn’t be broken.

Yet… it was a failure. The Queen was horrified when she realized they had all been erased and the remaining two had betrayed her. She felt their change of heart through the contract, which would’ve eliminated them anyway for going back on their promise.

The amount of Black mana I had used to devise that hole for them to cross areas... it was for nothing! And it will take some time to gather energy again.

She scoffed and stepped past the fluttering murder of crows going wild. A glass shard sliced through her shoe and cut her foot, but she didn’t care. A bloody footprint followed her when she approached a closed cabinet of rare magic tools for the most powerful spells.

But the tool she needed was not necessarily an item.

The Queen opened the doors, tense expression softening when she saw her pet lying between the colorful crystals on the middle shelf. It was the preferred spot when wanting to take a nap. With Christmas being mere months away, the little animal was physically preparing for the “big hunts” during December.

“​​Jólakötturinn,” the Queen cooed to wake her up. “It’s November. Isn’t your 10-month-long hibernation over by now?”

The small cat with long black fur opened a golden eye.

“I have a job for you.”

Jólakötturinn lazily stood, yawned, and stretched her short legs. After hopping down, she got on top of a table and sat to listen. Despite some crows still dashing through the room, the cat didn’t pay them any attention. Because she was not hungry for meals like birds and mice. No, when it was this time of year, she craved a much larger course, specifically creatures with two legs who did this realm more harm than good.

The legendary monster’s hibernation was over.

“I’m running out of time. Look.” The Queen lifted her wrinkling hands and pointed to her graying hair. “I need my specialized potion almost every other day now. I can’t continue doing this to prolong my life. I need Snow White’s heart, at the most a year. There is still so much I want to do besides being the ruler of this wasteland. But I cannot do more when I must always be near this chamber. Can you do it?”

I should’ve thought of using her in the first place, but Jólakötturinn was hiding most of the year. It slipped my mind.

The plan was too perfect. In many cultures, cats were known to be spiritual guides. That gave the animals a loophole to easily pass through realms, like a free card. Not all could do this, though. But ​​Jólakötturinn wasn’t a normal cat. She could fetch Snow White without a problem.

Unexpectedly, Jólakötturinn turned from her to gesture, I cannot.

“Is it because of Myrkrheim’s curse?” She deciphered the animal’s body language.

Yes.

“Then you will have to use the Magic Mirror. I can listen for you when you’re ready.”

Okay. But…?

Right. The Queen could not force an ancient beast to do such a thing. The feline would want something in return.

“If you do this for me, I will provide 50 humans.”

She blinked her yellowy eyes. It wasn’t enough. Jólakötturinn waited. Expecting more.

“Then 100 humans on Christmas Day. I will even dump them in the Forbidden Forest where you can hunt them like pests.”

Jólakötturinn swished her tail and purred. Deal accepted. 

The Queen grinned ear to ear in a sinister manner. “Then let’s make this task easy by giving you direct access now, hmm?” 

They hurried through the castle after leaving the secret passage to her underground chamber. Jólakötturinn hobbled next to her feet to keep up. She couldn’t walk well in that form, but the cat didn’t like anyone touching her. Call it pride, perhaps.

“My Queen.” The guards bowed and the servants greeted her. She ignored them. The head butler presumably tried to find her to discuss pointless things like budgets and the next tea party soon. All useless!

When they reached her wing of Nordenstein Castle, she opened the door for Jólakötturinn and approached the Magic Mirror leaning in the corner. To everyone else, they would only see a brilliant mirror. Hand-carved thorns, roses, and leaves adorned the golden frame. It was as tall as she was, with the most perfect reflection to showcase her beauty.

Only… that beauty was fading. The Queen could barely look at herself. Her desperation for that heart was at an all-time high, constantly thinking about painfully dissecting Snow White’s chest and holding his beating heart—the real one, not the pig’s given to her by the huntsman.

She ran her finger along the frame, found a thorn, and pricked it to leave a bead of blood. Lately, the Magic Mirror was losing its touch as if becoming affected by its other half’s brokenness. Summoning the voice in the Mirror was getting more difficult as of late. Blood was an excellent method for a definite reply.

Ugh, if only I had managed to take King Taerynn’s Mirror and use them both. Blast those elves and their idiotic fighting.

The blood drop was absorbed into the shiny metal, and its reflection swirled into a pitch-black image. A voice whispered all the things she loved to hear. She paused to listen and smiled widely. 

Beautiful. Young. Royal, it said.

Jólakötturinn looked up at her in confusion.

“A lovely voice, don’t you agree? And it is all mine.” Her pet only tilted its head. “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

The dark picture churned into colors. Snow White appeared shirtless and lying on a bed... getting treatment? He was yelling in agony while Myrkrheim’s king leaned over him. The Queen could not see what the elf was doing. His much taller height obscured her view, but her stepson was undoubtedly injured, perhaps around the chest area.

She cursed. That was the worst spot to be wounded. The hellhounds must’ve had something to do with it! With an injured body, Snow White’s heart could not be taken. His health had to be in perfect shape. As soon as the prince came through the Mirror, she would take no chances and ambush him immediately… with a dagger to cut out what she needed. 

“Call for me when he fully recovers,” she commanded.

Jólakötturinn mewed in response.

“Alright. Let’s form a contra—”

No.

The Queen turned to the Mirror, surprised. The voice was speaking and not in its usual praises.

“No? No contract?”

No.

“It’s not required?”

No.

“Why?”

There was no answer.

It had been a few years for the eerie whisper to give an obvious opinion on a matter, besides uttering the sweet words of compliments that were the truth. And she believed the Mirror, for why would it lie? Being a device created by faefolk, the voice couldn’t be untruthful, anyway.

“Fine.” The Queen told Jólakötturinn, “You know what to do.”

And there was no contract created between them.

The black feline stepped through the oval, which reacted like water. The movement disturbed the image of a crying Snow White in gentle waves. The Mirror would drop her off somewhere nearby where she’d lie low until it was time. Hunting. Lurking. It would be tricky to bypass King Taerynn’s sharpness that something like her was sneaking around, but Jólakötturinn was a professional at evasion. 

When she was through to the other side, the oval returned to a reflection and highlighted the Queen’s features. The whispers ceased, too. 

Despite drinking her age-reversing potion yesterday morning, it was already time to take more. At this rate, she would need his heart in less than a year. But the infamous cat that appeared out of nowhere 45 years ago would not fail her. They’d become close as master and pet. 

And as she waited for Jólakötturinn to signal that the “fairest” one of the land was prepped and ready, she hunched over her spells and witchcraft to continue formulating ways; not only to remain youthful forever, but truly become the ruler of more—more than Ascelin. It was her ultimate revenge against them.

All of those who did me wrong. Finding no worth besides my appearance. This is what you did to me. And in return... you will see. You will all see.

Meanwhile, the Kingdom of Ascelin continued to ask where their lone ruler was who was constantly absent from the throne, doing who knew what. Citizens questioned. Maids and servants gossiped. The head butler groaned by practically taking over her duties. Guards were embarrassed to work for her. The soldiers were worried that another country would come to take over, knowing they were weak without a king and successor. 

After time passed, all eyes were now on Ascelin.

Yet, the Queen did not seem to care. 

And the people wondered about their fate as a once-powerful kingdom—a prior grand and rich place where the mighty King Leon slayed the dragon to prove their strength and Queen Liesl could persuade any country to trade and form alliances. It was a perfect match, but now long gone tragically.

Most of all, the princess was dead. They were told of this devastating news three decades ago when it was revealed a deranged huntsman kidnapped and killed her in the Forbidden Forest. He had left her body to rot and decay by the elements. 

Since then, her birthday had become a national holiday, Wunschtag (“Wishing Day”) spread by the citizens, much to the Queen’s disapproval—November 11th. The angel number of the date, 1111, meant “new beginnings.” It only made sense for the tradition to be about wishing.

Wishing for others to meet their dreams and goals.

Since Snow White never saw her dreams come true.