ALTGS 30

Cold was something that Lord could not feel.

Blizzards, snowstorms, avalanches. He had never been able to feel it.

But right this moment, he could feel it slowly spreading deep inside.

A gnawing, dark hole that felt like it was consuming everything, stretching its bleak tendrils over everything and swallowing it all. For the first time, the biting chill was something that was threatening to overwhelm him.

His skin and bones could not feel the severity of cold.

But his soul was engulfed in it.

Floating.

He was floating.

Like some puppet held up with strings, he was floating right outside her window.

Celestria wanted to make a sound. To scream, or shout in anger, or simply state something like, “This bloke’s floating.” Anything.

But her throat wouldn’t let any air pass.

Fear.

That all to familiar fear that shook her to her core. The fear that prickled her skin into goosebumps and raised the hair on her neck. The fear that numbed her completely, and set her mind back to its most simplified state.

Run

Run away.

Never look back, just run.

Run run run run run.

If that was the fear, then the cause was...

“Lord.”

Her voice was like a tiny whisper. The shrieking winds quickly drowned it out like bait tossed into a tank full of ravenous fish.

Why was he here?

They stood like that in the violent wind and rain. Her dress. It was getting wet. Her skin was so cold now. The wind continued to scream and cry and wail.

“I am cold.”

The voice that spoke sounded stunned.

Was that Lord’s voice?

His voice had always sounded clear and sure. Like a dark, calm river.

But he sounded so dazed. So out of it.

Celestria took a moment to process what in the world he had just said.

Cold. He was cold.

“Of course you’d be cold, standing out in the rain and wind like that, Your Majesty.” Her voice wavered just a bit, but otherwise, she kept her strength. Very carefully, she stepped forward, feeling more of those freezing needle-like droplets attack her. “Please step inside, Your Majesty. If we stay like this, we’ll get sick.”

Right then, she saw him turn to look at her. She couldn’t really make out his face. Shrouded in darkness, all she could see were two terrifying red dots. Staring at her as the wind continued to bellow like a wounded animal.

“Please, Lord.”

He did as she asked. Stepping into a room he had never seen before. Everything was wet. His hair was plastered to his body. His face, his neck, all over his back. Lord did not turn to watch as he heard Celestria move to close the windows behind him. In an instant, the distraught cries of the wind were muted, like they were in a completely different world.

It was cold.

His clothes clung to him. The long white tunic he always wore was soaked through completely. So was the embroidered shirt beneath.

It was so cold.

He felt water pool in his boots. The wool socks beneath felt disgusting.

So empty.

“Your Majesty, you’re completely soaked through.”

Ah. A familiar voice.

It was even and calm, but he could tell that it was trying very hard to remain like that. Celestria stepped around him, and he could see her clear as day in the dark. There were drops of rain on the vibrant sienna skin of her chin and cheeks. Lord watched, feeling numb and hollowed as she crossed the room and ruffled through a stack of neatly folded towels. She got one, then came back to him.

“Dry yourself with this, Your Majesty.”

Even though he knew that he should do as she instructed, he simply couldn’t draw any strength into his limbs. He couldn’t find a reason why. He was all empty. One thousand years... and they had been empty.

She sighed, then unfolded the towel. With a little huff, she threw it round his shoulders, then brought the ends together in front of him.

“Hold this. I will go get someone to warm up a room for you.”

And with that, she was gone.

And he was alone yet again with his cold.

Celestria walked down the hallway. It was dark. So dark. Where were the candles? No, they were on. Yes, yes they were. Ah, right there.

“Alice? Alice, please come.”

A maid dressed in black and white stood up from the basket she had been busy with, turning to face her. Alice was a portly, friendly woman who had the kind of face no one could imagine shaken. She always seemed to know what to do, and what to say.

But her eyes were so round. So big and round in shock as she stared at Celestria.

“My Lady!!! You’re drenched!” Alice gasped as she rushed over to her. When her warm hand touched Celestria, it was like as if life was shocked back into her.

The King is in my room.

The God of Demons, King of Fortane is in my room.

“Alice. Immediately prepare the spare suite closest to mine. Get it warm. Make sure there are lots of blankets. Get me the largest underkirtle you can get your hands on. Wide and long. No... maybe two if you can. Bring up something to eat. Something to warm you up when you’ve been cold and out all day.”

“My Lady—“

“Under no circumstances... can you enter my room, Alice. When you are finished preparing what I have asked, give me three quick knocks on my door and immediately leave. Check on Haelan. Make sure he is sleeping soundly. Tell mother and father that I don’t want to be disturbed. I’m doing something that needs my undivided attention. Until I tell you, nobody may visit my room or the suite you have prepared.”

Alice’s face was pale, frightened by the urgent tone she heard from the little lady she’d watched grow up. She had been adorable when she was young. A bit too calm and insightful, but a darling nonetheless.

However, the cold, sharp woman that stared back at her was worlds different. The authority that she spoke with... Alice had never heard it before.

“Yes, My Lady. I’ll do as you asked.” And with that, the maid was off.

She felt cold, now.

Walking briskly back to her room, she opened the door then slipped in silently.

Darn it. It was too dark in here. The wind had blown all the candles out. With a click of her tongue, she set about moving carefully around the furniture. The rain was drumming against the windows, the wind muted but still strong. She could hear distant claps of thunder, but no lighting to illuminate her path, if only for an instant.

Well, she knew her room well enough to navigate around in the dark, but still.

“Your Majesty. Are you still there?” Celestria called very softly.

No reply.

What had happened to him?

Ever since he had floated down into her room like a sad leaf, she had felt that he was off. Disjointed, like a broken doll. What had happened so suddenly to him? And how was she to fix it? He didn’t even reply when she talked to him.

Eventually, she felt a puddle of cold water and knew that she had reached him. Well... there was not much she could do if she couldn’t see. Her eyes had started to adjust slowly, so she knew this vague shape was him. She reached out and touched what she assumed was his arm. Yes it was, and it was sodding cold and wet. Celestria grimaced. The feeling of wet clothing was immensely yucky.

“I’m cold, Celestria.” He said again, but this time, she knew that he was close to tears.

If he had lived for one thousand years, seen civilizations rise and fall from a distance away, gathered loyal demons that worshipped him as a believer worshipped a god, and yet still failed to identify even one single connection to another living creature, then he was not alive.

He had never really been alive.

He could breathe, see, hear, taste, smell, think, feel. But he wasn’t alive. It was like standing in the middle of a never ending field blanketed by snow, numbed so much by the cold that he didn’t know what life was.

There were those that loved him, but there were none he could ever say he loved. Or even liked. Or cared about. Nobody.

Then he was not alive.

So what had the past millennium been? He had gone through those years like as if it had been a transient experience. Like as if it was all nothing but temporary to him. But in reality, it was all far more permanent to him than anyone else here. More permanent than Metaghrindar. More permanent than Nedrie. More permanent than all those who claimed to love him. More permanent than...

Than Celestria.

Suddenly, he turned to look at her. She had a frown on her face as she mumbled something to herself. She had gotten more towels, and she was now doing her best to dry as much water off him as she could.

“Demons can get sick can’t they? Why would you stand out there like that...”

He wanted to say something to her. Demons can’t get ill like people do.

“Everything is cold Celestria. Everything is cold inside.”

She paused what she was doing, staring at him with a confused look on her face.

“I’d think so, what with how you’ve been standing in that sudden storm. I’ve got someone to prepare a separate room. It’ll be warm, and there’ll be some food to eat. You’ll be warmed up soon, Your Majesty.” She assured, moving to begin working on his hair.

He would be warm again? Can that really happen? He was never warm to begin with. Drifting for one thousand years, surrounded with life and yet failing to understand it. Without connections with others, can he consider himself alive?

“Will I really... be warm again?”

She gave him a funny look, then sighed a very silent sigh. The corners of her mouth tugged upward just a little into what he knew was a polite human smile. He knew it was superficial. Something that humans did to show friendliness even if they were not feeling particularly friendly. But oh, how desperate that smile made him feel. Just a sliver. A tiny little sliver thinner than a spider’s web. A glimmer of hope.

“Of course you will, Your Majesty.”