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"—Snow."

She opened her eyes from a dreamless sleep the moment she heard that familiar namesake.

Chell sat up. The room was dark and silent. Hours had passed since she'd retired to her bed. A thin silence draped over her, and the only light was from the far glow of the moon and the kingdom's night bustle that provided a dim outline of what she saw before her. There was no sign of anything that seemed to be the source of the whisper in her ear. Nothing alive, at least.

Chell would never mistake the voices of the dead.

From the corner of her eye, something moved in the shadows. A small boy suddenly emerged from the darkest corner, barefoot and dressed in common clothes. He looked no older than ten years old. Despite his appearance, however, a heavy air seemed to surround him. One look at the boy's unnaturally calm face would warn others that the child before them was something that wasn't human... or something that was human, before. He didn't make a sound as he moved. His eyes were cold and devoid of any sign of life. If Chell didn't know any better, she would have thought of him as an animated doll wearing the flesh of a human.

It was a spirit of the dead.

Her heart picked up in her chest. Something akin to joy and dread washed over her. The last time she had an encounter with them was with the masked one from Uldard, who had told her that Noct was the reason she was sent there. Since the night they had gone, their appearances—whether in her dreams or reality—usually meant only one thing: something was about to happen, and they were either there to deliver her a message or a warning.

She hoped it would be the former.

The child opened his mouth to speak. What came out of it was a sound that didn't belong to his appearance.

"... Snow," the boy repeated, voices a mix of dozens of others. It was the familiar cacophony of the dead speaking all that the same time.

Chell answered to him immediately.

"Yes... I'm here."

He beckoned her with a hand, deep gaze not tearing away from hers.

"... Follow us."

The dead turned and walked towards the door, passing right through its solid surface. Chell didn't need to be told twice to know what to do. She got up from her bed quietly and followed after him, stepping into the darkened corridors of the palace lit only by the lamps that adorned the walls. She looked around to find the dead boy, only to see him walking down the hall without looking back. They held no doubt that she would follow, and if Chell would get lost, she knew they'd come back to guide her again just as before.

She followed after him, silent in every action. She knew it would be bad if someone were to spot her prowling around at that hour, especially since Yoko's recent attack. The lull of the palace made it seem like it was at the bottom of the ocean, sleeping in the berth of the night. She focused her eyes on the young dead's back. She wondered where they were planning to take her.

They walked for some time, one dead and one living, the two beings that bore a deep connection. Chell was a Necrovitte, and a child with the Blessing of the Dead. It was her duty to guard the balance between the boundary of life and death, and also her duty to be the voice and ears of those who had passed.

The boy continue without any sign of hesitation in his steps. He made many turns and passed down various stairways. It seemed like walking through a maze. So far, she hadn't encountered anyone in the palace yet, and Chell realized that the path she was walking on might have been the dead's intention in order to stay hidden. She blinked, brushing away a strand of silver hair that had fluttered over her face.

Time passed. The light from the lamps grew darker and scarce. She realized soon that they had entered into the mouth of a pathway that seemed to connect to an annex. On either side of her, a sprawling garden glistened under the moonlit sky, rows upon rows of carefully-tended flowers that bloomed full adorned with statues of angels and fountains that sprinkled water. They were at the back of the palace, she realized. The dead had led her to the outside.

At the end of the path an enormous door awaited, carved with intricate designs that Chell recognized as the kingdom's insignia. Somehow, it bore an air of uneasiness. It might have been because of the hour, or the shadows that fell over it, though Chell knew better.  Whatever was beyond,  it was what the dead had wanted her to see.

Once he arrived before the doors, the little boy finally turned back to her. He still had that calm, expressionless look. When their eyes met, he nodded to Chell.

Here, he seemed to be saying.

When she blinked, he suddenly disappeared. Not a single trace was left to indicate that he had been there a moment ago. Now, Chell was all alone, staring up at the door with only the faint sound of running water from the garden to accompany her. There was no wind. There were no  lights. The shadows of the pillars stretched across the marble floor. She waited for a few seconds, preparing herself. Then, slowly, she raised her hands and gently pushed it open, bracing for whatever was waiting within.

What greeted her was an enormous circular room, lit by a single brazier situated beside the doors. The vast space was pronounced because of the lack of interior that decorated it, except only for a large bed on the other side of the room and a magnificent portrait of what seemed to be the map of the continent that stretched from floor to ceiling on her far left. Two windows were situated on opposite sides next to the canopy, allowing a small portion of the sky to peek through.

Chell found herself walking inside, closing the door softly. Her eyes were trained on the bed, the shadows making it hard for her to make out any figure resting on top of it. However, she was certain that she could notice another presence. She was not the only one in the room. Someone else was there with her.

"Is... that you?"

Chell stilled upon hearing the voice. It sounded weak, whispering.

"Come... forward..."

Althou faint, it was a tone that demanded command. She did as she was told, remaining silent. Chell approached the bedside carefully. Every step she took seemed to echo through the closed walls. Once she was close enough to see the person who was lying there, the Snow Witch was finally able to know the reason why she had felt so uneasy from before.

An old man rested on the wide, immaculate sheets, dressed in robes of white and looking like the remnants of a person who was once full of vitality. Aged wrinkles and sunken cheeks were molded onto his face, and his skin clung to his bones like cloth. His white hair looked dull in contrast with Chell's. Every breath was a low rattle in his lungs, the sound painful and unbearable to hear. His eyes were half opened, their original color smudged with cataracts that clearly took some of his ability to see. An air of certain death clung to him tightly than anyone Chell had ever seen before. She could sense it. It was a surprise that he was still alive at this point, and a greater miracle that he still seemed to have the power to even speak. But what caught Chell's attention the most was the small glittering object that lay beside him, a circular ornament of gold laden with  precious stones of color. A crown.

It was his highness, the current king of Uldard, father to Yoko.

Chell stood there, taken aback by what she was seeing. She had already known that the king was sick, and that he was on his deathbed. However, she did not know why the dead had led her there or why he seemed to have been kept here, hidden away in such a place where no one was looking after him. If he was the king, then it was natural that doctors be by his side at all times, and guards taking stand outside his chambers. And yet, Chell had encountered none of them as she came here. It was as if he was intentionally being secluded in a different part of the castle, leaving him to wither as death slowly took him by the hand.

"... So... it is you again," he whispered, looking over at Chell with unfocused eyes. Even the act of turning his neck seemed to pain him.

She didn't know what he meant by that. This was the first time Chell had spoken with him after all, and she was certain that they had never seen each other before.

"You... have always visited me... since your death. In my dreams... sometimes when I'm awake," he murmured. The king continued to speak, as though caught in a net of delusion. Whoever it was that he believed Chell to be, he seemed intent to speak to them.

He closed his eyes slowly, every second a ringing heartbeat to Chell.

"Please... forgive me," he breathed. "Forgive such a foolish king... and lover..."

That last word confused the Snow Witch as he trailed off. The first thought that went to her mind was that he had believed her to be the queen, Yoko's mother. And yet, something told her that wasn't quite so. There was something in his tone that indicated he was speaking to another person, although Chell was unsure of why she considered this.

"Our daughter... I made sure to take care of her..." he said. "... She has your eyes... and your gift."

Chell froze, trying to understand what she had just heard. Something rose at the back of her mind as she stood there, a voice that warned that what she had just heard was something she never should have.

"Yoko... Yoko is taking care of her well..."

The realization dawned like the strike of a hammer and anvil. There was only one person who he could have meant: someone who was the child of the king's lover. Someone who had acquired a gift. Someone who Yoko was taking care of.

Jul Orben.

"Ah... Yoko..." the king muttered, suddenly changing his tone of speaking in a more relaxed manner. He seemed to be directing his words to the princess this time, still believing that it was someone else in place of Chell. "Yes. Please, watch out for Basil... he intends... to take the crown at all costs..."

He breathed a shallow inhale. His voice was a croak now.

"Remember... this secret between us... I love you both. My daughters. My... pride."

He sunk into silence. It took Chell moments to realize that the king had fallen asleep. The brazier by the door flickered as a wind whipped from the windows, casting dancing shadows over his thinned, pale face. He was dying. His life was draining away like sand from a broken hourglass. It was only a matter of time before he would pass and it would be unavoidable.

The Snow Witch remained standing there for a while, looking at the old man's sleeping face. Despite his losing battle against time, he seemed to look peaceful in his sleep. Content. Her eyes trailed over to the crown that rested by his side. At that moment, to her, it looked less like the symbol of sovereign power and more like the reminder that such things were nothing in the face of an eventual end. Chell raised her hands in front of her, noticing that she had forgotten to wrap her bandages around them. She studied her fingers--small, thin and pale.

Death spared no one, not even kings.

She headed outside the room, sensing that she had already fulfilled what she was meant to do there. Chell did not turn back as she closed the doors softly behind her. A different silence greeted her, one that was less suffocating than the one inside. She was standing in the darkened pathway once more, riddled with thoughts.

From the corner of her eye, a glint caught her sight and she followed it with her gaze. Chell's eyes slightly widened in surprise as she saw a lone, silver flower was growing along a crack in one of the pedestals of a nearby garden statue. A memory flashed through her mind, recalling the very same kind she used to pick long ago to make flower crowns. She had forgotten the name of this flower, but she knew that it meant.

Death.

Mindlessly, Chell made her way to the flower for a closer look. She stepped onto the grass, feeling the cool, soft ground beneath her feet and stood right before it, studying the way its leaves gleamed dully under the moon's glow.

"The woman... he thought I was speaking to... it was... Jul's mother... wasnt't it?" she whispered quietly.

Someone was sitting on the grass beside the pedestal. It was the dead boy. Even though Chell was certain that he had heard her, he said nothing. The silence in itself was the answer to her question.

"I do not understand... why you took me here..." she said without looking away from the flower.

The little boy opened his mouth. "... You must know... the entire truth.... to make a decision."

"... Decision?"

"Danger," the voices of the dead warned. "If you remain longer... you will be in danger.... Death. Pain. Misery.... Leave, Snow. You... must leave."

Chell shook her head. "I cannot... I made a promise."

"Misfortune. It lies ahead."

"... Help me," she pleaded, looking at him. At them. "Guide me."

The young boy returned the notion with cold, dead eyes. "... We cannot interfere anymore."

Silence.

Chell knew that she could do nothing to change that fact. Everything that the dead did had a purpose. She knew that going against it would lead to even greater threat and unbalance. They would be defying the natural order, and she would be going against her very role as overseer if that happened.

A moment of stifling quietness passed.

"Before you leave..." she whispered, finally. "Please... allow me to ask something."

"Ask."

"Is Noct..." she began, "is my companion...safe?"

The dead did not answer immediately, which startled her. It was almost as if they had trouble answering her question even though they surely would have known the answer. If they didn't, then they would have immediately said otherwise. Their hesitation seemed like a premonition of something that Chell wasn't supposed to know about. There were only very few things that caught the deceased off guard, and as beings that possessed knowledge and vision of the unknown, the thought scared her.

"He... is sleeping," he finally said.

She did not expect that answer.

"Sleep... ing?"

The boy did not reply anymore. Instead, he stood up without a sound, facing her fully. He smiled a little, but his emotionless gaze remained the same. Although it looked unnatural, it was their own way of showing the last hints of human emotion that they had left for her. The gesture warmed Chell's heart.

"... Good bye, our Snow... Please... be careful."

He disappeared just as sudden as he had arrived, this time with finality. Chell could no longer sense their presence anymore. It was as if she had gone back to that night when they had left her for the first time in the forest.

Sleeping.

The Crow Thief was sleeping. She did not know what that meant, but she doubted it was the kind of sleep that people normally had. Noct had told her before that he never really slept unless he needed to. Something must have happened. Wherever the thief was, she hoped that he would return safely.

Chell continued to stare at the flower before her, mesmerized by its beauty. Unable to stop herself, she raised her hand and touched it lightly, feeling it in her grasp.

She realized her mistake only a second after. From the point where her bare hand had touched the flower, a ripple of black oozed and spread, trailing over the entirety of its petals, quickly running across its stem and roots. The flower withered and crumbled in a matter of seconds. Its remains fell on the ground, scattered in the air. Chell stared at where it once was a moment ago.

She blinked slowly, pulling back her hand. The sound of the water gurgled from the nearby fountain.

Death spared no one, she thought. Not even kings.

---> thank you for reading!

(unedited)