Siyana stood before the floral arch, practically vibrating with impatience as she waited for her turn. She had been waiting for this day for a whole month. A month! Ever since coming of age, she had spent twenty-nine grueling days completely wingless. She could have used that time to learn how to fly. And cast spells! But no, it was all because of those ridiculous formalities: to receive her wings, a fairy had to be exactly eighteen years old—not a single day less. On the previous Winging Day, Siyana had been just one day shy of eighteen. Oh, what a fit she had thrown! She had screamed, wrung her hands, and stomped her feet, but her hysterics had been completely in vain. The Elder Fairies refused to let her through the floral arch. Honestly, they could be so utterly petty sometimes! "Siyana, it’s your turn. Move it!" an Elder Fairy commanded. But Siyana was so deeply lost in her grievances that she didn't hear a word. "Siyana!" barked another Elder Fairy, her sharp tone drawing the eyes of the entire crowd. "You have exactly one minute to pass through the arch. Step forward now, or stay wingless forever!" Siyana didn't stick around to hear what other dire punishments the Elder was threatening. Without even taking a breath, she ducked and bolted under the floral canopy. And a good thing, too—a thick, heavy vine whipped right over her head! "What on earth was that?" she gasped, dropping into a crouch. In that exact instant, the ground vanished beneath her feet. Siyana glanced around wildly and lunged forward, aiming for the only stable piece of land in sight—a small mound that looked like a blooming flowerbed. She felt terrible about trampling the blossoms, but her own skin was far more important. "Not a flower-weaver! Not a nature-born!" a voice boomed from somewhere above. Suddenly, the ground gave way again, and Siyana plunged headfirst into deep water. She surfaced, sputtering and tossing her wet hair out of her eyes as she looked around. There was nothing but endless water. Where had it all come from? Just a second ago, there had been a flowerbed and a downright aggressive forest. There was no time to complain; she needed to survive this mad trial. At least now she understood why only adult fairies were allowed to take it. A child would easily be killed by these traps, and the High Fairy Mother would strip away wings and magic in a heartbeat for such a tragedy. When her arms grew too heavy to swim and her survival instinct flared, Siyana rolled onto her back and forced herself to relax. A current caught her, carrying her away. She couldn't explain how she knew she was moving; the sky was completely cloudless, and the water’s surface was as still as glass, yet she was drifting. Finally, she bumped against a massive shelf of ice. Siyana didn't waste time trying to make sense of the madness. The world was clearly offering her a change of scenery, and she intended to take it. She climbed onto the iceberg with ease, and the longer she stood there, the more the ice expanded beneath her feet. Miraculously, she didn't feel the cold at all. Siyana threw her arms wide, spun on her heel, and burst into laughter as a wave of pure euphoria washed over her. The more she laughed and danced, the faster the world transformed. The water froze into solid ice, heavy clouds rolled across the sky, and snow began to fall in massive flakes. A sudden gust of wind caught the snowflakes, swirling them around the young fairy until, at last, the gale bowed to her absolute will. "Ours!" "Ours!" "She is our fairy!" "A Winter Fairy!" "A Frost Fairy!" Enthusiastic whispers echoed from every direction, and Siyana soaked them in. She relished the thrill of commanding the icy wind and directing the blizzard wherever she pleased. She twirled, danced, and flew. The chattering Snowflakes taught her their intricate dances, the Blizzard showed her how to soar, the Frost revealed the basics of spell-weaving, and the Mist explained the arts of camouflage, illusions, and hiding her wings. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment everything changed, but suddenly, she was back in her native forest. Her heart pounded with a desperate longing to return, to dance with the Blizzard again, to drift beautiful snowbanks and sink into them as if they were soft featherbeds. But it was all gone. Around her reigned an eternal summer: trees, shrubs, and grasses bloomed and bore fruit in colors that felt far too bright, too warm, and too overwhelming. Even then, the young fairy knew she no longer belonged in the enchanted forest. It was her homeland, a place that would always hold a piece of her heart, but it was no longer her path or her home. Siyana still had to find her true place in the world. "A Frost Fairy, of all things," one of the Elder Fairies tut-tutted. "And with a temper like hers, I was certain she’d manifest fire magic," the second Elder chimed in, her voice dripping with unmistakable disappointment. "And look at her—she’s completely wingless." Siyana didn't stay to listen to their gossip. The high of discovering her magic was beginning to fade. As for her wings, they hadn't shown themselves yet, even though she knew with absolute certainty that they were there. To see them, to reveal them to the world, required nothing more than her own desire. But desire was the one thing Siyana lacked right now. She desperately didn't want to go back to her village. Her parents wouldn't be home for another two months, her sisters were entirely wrapped up in starting their own families, and she had no one else to share her joy with. Her grandmother? She lived halfway across the world. Siyana paused at the edge of the woods. She had reached the first flower-woven houses, but she was in no hurry to go deeper into the settlement. Why bother? She didn't belong there. She needed to be somewhere else, in a different kind of forest—one where summer never came, where snow never melted under the sun, and where the winds were so icy they took your breath away. "The Frozen Wastes," the fairy whispered softly, and shot up into the sky. She had no map and no plan, but she flew anyway. She was following the call of her heart.

"Are you absolutely certain the young witch will appear here?" the mage asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the ancient witch. "Where else would your fated mate go, dear boy?" the old woman grumbled, barely looking up from her knitting. "No one can resist the Heart's Call." "But it's been six months, and she still hasn't shown up!" the mage paced restlessly. "I don't have years to wait for her! I need her before the year is out!" "Oh, youth," the grandmother sighed, her needles clicking away. "Always rushing, always in a hurry. Sometimes you just need to stop and wait for your happiness to catch up with you." "What does happiness have to do with any of this?" The mage spun around, his hands clenching into fists as he exhaled sharply. "Without a compatible witch, I will lose the Ice Throne! The Throne! The entire realm will be left completely devoid of winter magic, and I will be stripped of my powers!" "Oh, stop throwing a tantrum," the old witch winced. "Your magic isn't going anywhere, and neither is the world. As for the throne? What’s the worst that could happen? It'll just take a little nap for two or three thousand years and wake up again. It wouldn't be the first time." The mage didn't offer a reply. Casting a furious glare at the witch, he stormed across her small cottage, snatched his heavy fur coat from the peg, shoved his feet into his heavy felt boots, and bolted out the door, slamming it hard behind him. "Youth," the witch excelled a chuckle, looking thoroughly amused as her features shifted, making her appear a good fifty years younger. "Oh, you have absolutely no idea what kind of match destiny—and I—have cooked up for you."

"The Frozen Wastes!" the exhausted fairy gasped in sheer awe. From her bird’s-eye view, the endless blanket of snow was a mesmerizing sight. In the far distance, sparse trees and jagged rocks broke the horizon, but here lay pure, unblemished beauty. It was exactly what Siyana had dreamed of. The Wind sang a crisp melody, and weightless Snowflakes swirled in a graceful dance. A brilliant gleam—completely out of place amidst the bleak, icy landscape—caught the young fairy’s eye. She didn't stop to think; she immediately flew down to investigate. There, half-buried in a snowdrift, stood a magnificent throne carved from a single, solid block of ice. "Incredible! It’s absolutely breathtaking!" Siyana exclaimed, walking a slow circle around her discovery. To keep the snow from blocking her path, she used a flicker of magic to sweep it aside. "Such craftsmanship! Such elegant lines! But why are you out here? All by yourself? Why aren't you sitting in some grand castle?" Siyana paused, thinking that it would be rather nice to have a castle of her own. Or at least a house. Even just a bedroom—she did need a place to live, after all. At that thought, her mood plummeted. She had flown here following the call of her heart, convinced that someone was waiting for her, but reality was proving to be a harsh disappointment. She was entirely alone in the middle of the permafrost, roofless, but with a grand ice throne to her name. "You silly girl," Siyana muttered, leaning her forehead against the back of the throne. To her surprise, the ice felt pleasantly warm. "Where did you think you were going? No winter clothes, no food, and not a shred of advice from your elders." The young fairy sighed and brushed the snow off the seat with her hands, noticing that it didn't melt despite the throne's strange warmth. She gingerly sat down on the smooth center, which was framed by intricate carvings. She braced herself for it to be uncomfortable and freezing, but she didn't feel a thing. In that exact instant, the world blurred as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. Siyana was no longer sitting alone in a snowdrift; she was in a magnificent grand ballroom, right in the middle of a royal ball. The room was packed with fairies, mages, witches, and even mythical ice dragons! The dragons were in human form, but they were easily given away by their slitted, vertical pupils and hair that shimmered like spun ice. They were the very first to drop to one knee. "The Queen!" "Long live the Mistress of the Ice Throne!" Siyana instinctively ducked her head, completely startled. This was definitely not the peaceful rest she had anticipated when she sat down to catch her breath. Suddenly, she was the center of attention and apparently the ruler of some ancient throne. The formal greetings didn't last long, which turned out to be the easy part. What followed was pure chaos: every single eligible bachelor in the room began stepping forward to propose! The logic seemed to be that if the throne had a Mistress, it required a Master. But Siyana had always believed that marriage should be built on mutual love, not handed off to the first stranger who asked! The young fairy pressed herself deeper into the back of the throne, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the latest "suitor." She knew she couldn't keep this up forever; she needed to act, and fast. Taking a deep breath, Siyana made her choice. Glancing around, she noted that the massive double doors leading out to the balconies were wide open. She also realized that the vaulted ceiling of the grand hall provided more than enough clearance for flight. It was a shame she wouldn't be able to keep her wings a secret anymore, but she knew they wouldn't just let her walk out the front door. There were too many powerful beings in the room, all desperate to claim the title of Master of the Ice Throne. Standing up, Siyana summoned a fierce Blizzard from the outside. A violent blast of snow and wind sent her current suitor and his entourage stumbling back. With a sudden surge of will, the frost fairy unfurled her wings for all to see, spinning on her heel to entrance the crowd with a mesmerizing dance. Then, she launched herself into the air, soaring right over their heads and bursting out into the winter sky. But her escape wasn't as clean as she had hoped. One of the guests broke through her enchanting magic far too quickly and managed to hurl a magical capture-net after her. The spell clipped her wings, pinning them tightly together and rendering them completely immobile. The Blizzard managed to cushion her descent, but without her wings, she couldn't maintain altitude for long. "Incoming! Out of the way!" Siyana screamed to the people gathered in the courtyard below, trying desperately to guide her crash-landing away from any hard structures. Not everyone took cover. One sullen-looking young man stood rooted to the spot like a statue. Siyana used him as a human crash pad, plowing into him and knocking him flat onto the ground. On the bright side, landing on top of him meant her fall was surprisingly soft. "Oh, goodness! I am so incredibly sorry! I didn't mean to!" Siyana cried, frantically trying to untangle herself from the residual spell. The net had bound her tightly, pinning her wings painfully against her back. "My witch... My fated witch! You're finally here!" the mage breathed, staring at her in sheer disbelief. He burst into a joyful laugh, though he made sure to keep a firm, protective grip on his surprise windfall. "A witch?" Siyana gaped at him, entirely bewildered. "Are you blind? Look at my back! I'm a fairy. A fairy!" "Fairy, witch—what difference does it make?" the young man laughed, pulling her even closer. Scanning their surroundings, the mage’s smile faded into a deep frown. The courtyard was swarming with people. If it weren't for the draconic shield dome that had automatically pulsed to life around his fairy, she would have been torn from his arms already. It was highly suspicious. Had the others somehow realized that this exact girl was the key to awakening the Ice Throne from its long slumber? "Oh," Siyana muttered, realizing her escape attempt was officially a bust. "Why are the dragons shielding us instead of trying to capture me?" "That is an excellent question," the young man murmured, focusing his magic on unravelling the capture-net. Once the spell shattered, he looked at the fairy with a sudden spike of suspicion. "Tell me... did you happen to awaken the Ice Throne?" "The Ice Throne? No, I didn't touch anything icy," Siyana said, stretching her limbs with a sigh of relief as her wings unfurled fully. "I just sat down on this lovely, carved, warm seat. And then suddenly a grand ballroom appeared, full of mages trying to force me into marriage, and then that awful spell..." The more she rambled, the quieter her voice became, matching the darkening expression on the young man’s face. He squeezed her hand tightly. The sky above them turned ominously dark, heavy clouds rolling in as the dragons' shield dome thickened, turning completely opaque. Only now did the fairy realize that the dragons weren't afraid of the crowd hurting her—they were terrified that the mage would decimate the entire court in a fit of rage before figuring out who was to blame. It hadn't even crossed her mind that they might actually be terrified of his power. "You know, fairy, when I sent out the Heart's Call and discovered my fated mate was meant to be a witch, I was incredibly frustrated. And terrified. Witches are dangerous, volatile, and completely unpredictable. But you..." The mage pulled her flush against his chest, his gaze intense. "...you completely outclass them all. And I think I like it." He kissed her gently—a slow, breathless, lingering touch that allowed her to get used to him. Siyana melted into his embrace, relishing every sensation and emotion that flooded through her. She found herself wanting more, wanting something deeper and entirely unreserved. But the mage pulled back with a smirk, wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, and activated a teleportation portal. They stepped out in front of a strikingly familiar house. It was a cozy, wooden cottage with beautifully carved window frames, long icicles dangling from the roof, and a neatly shoveled path cutting through towering snowdrifts straight to the front door. Siyana had been here before. After all, this was the home of her paternal great-grandmother—the exact relative she had wanted to visit, who happened to live at the literal edge of the world. "Well, look who finally decided to show up!" Kapelia’s sharp, grumpy voice echoed the moment they pushed the front door open. "Grandma!" Siyana cried out. Kicking her boots off, her bare feet sank into the plush carpet as she threw herself into the old witch's arms. "My sweet little witchling," the old woman murmured, hugging the fairy tightly. "Look at you, what a marvelous maternal inheritance! You’ve finally got your wings!" "Yes! Can you believe it? I waited a whole month, and they’re finally here!" Siyana beamed, proudly flaring her wings to show them off to Kapelia. Meanwhile, the young man was frantically shedding his fur coat and boots. He was determined not to let the old witch distract his fairy long enough for them to miss the window for the final Heart’s Call ritual. "And it looks like she claimed a throne while she was at it," the mage grumbled, stepping up and wrapping a possessive arm around Siyana’s waist, making it crystal clear to the witch that he had no intention of sharing his mate. "Oh, you poor thing, my heart absolutely bleeds for you..." the old witch cooed. Her tone was so utterly devoid of actual sympathy that the mage literally ground his teeth. He knew exactly how much Kapelia was enjoying his misery. "Just perform the ritual, don't drag it out. There are already way too many suitors eyeing my fairy," the young man muttered, casting a longing glance at the dining table, which was beautifully set for lunch. Curiously, it was only set for two. "Oh, youth," the witch sighed. "Always rushing, always in a hurry." Kapelia slipped off her indoor socks, tossed a woolen shawl over her shoulders, and marched straight out into the cold. The fairy and the mage followed her lead. The snow bit into their bare feet, and the freezing air wrapped around the mage, but the bitter cold didn't seem to touch the fairy at all. Fine snow-pellets drifted down from a windless sky. It was a short walk. Just a few feet from the cottage lay a grand runic circle, which had been thoughtfully covered with a heavy blanket to keep the snow off. The witch quickly cleared the space, shook off the remaining powder, lit the ritual candles, and gestured for the young couple to take their positions. As she began incanting, a roaring, icy Gale swept around them, a fierce Blizzard swirled, and a deep Frost settled over the land, yet the elemental forces left the participants completely untouched. Kapelia bound their hands together with a braided wreath of ribbons and magical herbs, then tossed several handfuls of grains and silver coins over the couple. With a loud, resonant clap of her hands, the candles flared brilliantly and burned down to ash in an instant. The raging elements vanished, whispering a final blessing: "Accepted!" "Witnessed!" "Blessings upon you!" The ritual wreath vanished into thin air, leaving elegant, shimmering tattoos twining around their wrists. "Congratulations on your marriage!" the witch announced, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "The official documents are already signed and sealed; they’ll be delivered tomorrow. The cottage is yours for the next twenty-four hours, and I’ve ensured no one will disturb you. Rest, enjoy yourselves, and I think I'll go find some trouble of my own to get into." The moment the words left her mouth, Kapelia summoned her magical flying mortar, hopped inside, and shot into the sky like a rocket, leaving nothing but a swirling vortex of displaced snow to mark her path. The mage shook his head in amusement, scooped his new bride up into his arms, and smiled as she let out a surprised squeak. Walking into the house, he nudged the door open with a flick of his magic. He set his wife down on the warm rug and whispered a quick warming charm to instantly boost her core temperature, ensuring no winter illness could take hold. Then, the mage kissed his fairy, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was nothing but the warmth of their embrace, the fire of their kisses, and a quiet, passionate joy meant only for the two of them. They did eventually make it to the dining table, though it took quite some time. By the time they sat down, the sun had long set and the silver moon was peering through the frosted windowpane. Fortunately, the old witch had anticipated this exact timeline and had placed a stasis charm over the dishes to keep the food perfectly fresh and piping hot. "So, whose castle was that anyway? Where exactly did that throne take me?" Siyana asked once her initial hunger was satisfied. "That was our ancestral castle," the mage replied smoothly. "And which ancestral line would that be?" the fairy arched an eyebrow. "Not mine, darling, ours," the mage corrected his wife with a grin. "We belong to the House of Frost." "Siyana Frost... well, I suppose that has a nice ring to it," she mused, before her brow furrowed in sudden realization. "My dearest husband... tell me, what is your actual name?" "I am Hlavet, a pleasure to finally meet you," the mage burst into a hearty laugh. "I never in a million years imagined I’d get to introduce myself to my wife after the wedding." "Yes, well, I can safely say I didn't see it coming either," Siyana laughed along.

Morning welcomed the newlyweds with brilliant sunshine, sparkling snow, a flawless blue sky, and the sight of a furious witch in a flying mortar chasing a pair of massive ice dragons across the yard. After finding herself locked out of her own home, Kapelia had flown into a spectacular rage. What right did those oversized lizards have to cast a protective ward around her property without her express permission? The dragons offered no defense, which earned them several swift, resounding whacks of a broomstick across their armored spines. Having no desire to actually harm the ancient witch, they simply dodged and wove through the air to avoid her blows. "They fly beautifully, don't they?" the mage remarked, looking just as bewildered as his wife. "I had no idea Grandma was so utterly unhinged! Attacking apex predators with a broomstick—who even thinks to do that?" Siyana gasped. "Well, now I finally know where you get your reckless streak from," Hlavet teased, leaning down to plant a swift kiss on her nose. "Excuse me? Why am I the reckless one?" the fairy huffed, crossing her arms. "Let's review the facts," the mage counted down on his fingers. "First, you went solo into the dangerous Frozen Wastes. Second, no note. Third, absolutely zero winter gear, let alone food or survival equipment." The more he spoke, the more Siyana instinctively ducked her head into her shoulders. "Fourth, you sat on an unidentified, highly ancient, and potentially lethal magical artifact. And fifth, you decided to escape a ballroom packed with elite magical beings by jumping out of a multi-story window!" "And what else was I supposed to do?" Siyana pouted. "The Heart's Call was pulling me away from the ballroom, but those ridiculous suitors were crowding the throne. I couldn't even stand up, let alone walk out the door. Besides, everything turned out perfectly in the end." "For now, yes. But it’s time we go claim our second throne," Hlavet said. He sent a tiny pulse of magic into the draconic shield. The dragons instantly abandoned their game of escaping the broomstick and swept down to land gracefully in front of the newlyweds. Shifting forms mid-air, they stepped onto the snowy path in human guise. "Who on earth are you two?" Siyana couldn't help but ask. "We are the Guardians of the Mistress of the Ice Throne," one replied with a deep, elegant bow, while the second bowed in stoic silence. "We're heading back to the castle. Are you coming with us, or taking your own paths?" the mage asked, silently praying for the latter. He didn't want to burn through his own magical reserves transporting them, but having them along was undeniably safer. The dragons didn't answer verbally. Instead, they simply tore open a shimmering portal right in front of him. Hlavet smirked, offered his arm to his fairy, and stepped through right behind the first dragon. The second guardian ushered them through, followed closely by a fiercely swearing Kapelia. The witch would have been more than happy to stay behind in her cozy cottage, but the Guardians had standard protocols to maintain. The portal deposited them directly into the center of the grand throne room, which was entirely vacant this time. Siyana looked around, noting that every trace of the gaudy floral garlands, banners, and wedding decorations had completely vanished. In their place stood a magnificent second throne—an almost identical twin to her own, only slightly broader in the shoulders. "Well, look at that, mage. Your throne has finally woken up! Didn't I tell you to stop throwing tantrums and just wait?" the old witch grumbled, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, youth." "It truly is awake," Hlavet murmured in pure awe, his fingers gently brushing the frosted back of the seat. He offered a hand to Siyana, helping her settle onto her throne before taking his place on his own. In that breathtaking second, raw winter magic surged outward in a radiant wave, painting the stone walls and tall windows with magnificent frost patterns while a thick, rolling mist blanketed the floor. The dragons immediately dropped to one knee. The old witch tried to swat the mystical fog away with her broomstick, but failed miserably; she let out a sharp curse and froze as her beloved broom turned into a solid, shimmering spear of pure ice. "All hail the Mistress of the Ice Throne! All hail the Master of the Ice Throne! We bear witness to the absolute awakening of winter magic!" the dragons chanted in perfect unison. They rose to their feet, turning their gaze toward the witch. "What in the blazes did you do to my broom?" Kapelia shrieked, glaring at the ancient guardians. It was safe to say her reaction was not quite what they had expected. "Honored Kapelia, you have just been gifted a highly unique and priceless magical artifact—" one of the Guardians began smoothly, only to be sharply cut off. "What do I need a priceless artifact for? My broom was an artifact! And I could actually fly on it! How am I supposed to fly on a giant icicle?" the woman yelled, slamming the frozen handle against the stone floor in pure frustration. The moment the ice struck the stone, a wild, swirling portal tore open right beneath her feet. With a sharp, undignified shriek, the old witch dropped straight through it, vanishing to parts unknown. "Why did you do that to her?" Siyana asked, fixing the dragons with a stern look. "That wasn't our doing," one Guardian stammered quickly. "She triggered it herself." "As I was saying, it's a completely unique artifact," the second Guardian shrugged. "They only manifest during the absolute awakening of the Ice Throne." "Yes... the throne is finally awake. At long last," the mage murmured happily. "Are you happy?" Siyana asked, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. "Me? Deliriously. What about you?" Hlavet smiled softly. "Honestly, I still have no idea what this throne even is, or what kind of trouble I've just gotten myself into," the fairy shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "You'll see. Trust me, you're going to love it," the mage whispered, leaning in to close the distance between them. The dragons quickly turned away, suddenly intensely fascinated by the new frost patterns on the walls. Meanwhile, out in the streets of the northern city, the citizens watched in absolute wonder as the Frost Castle began to shift. Its massive outer stone walls fused into a single, flawless monolith of ice, while the grand citadel itself transformed, taking on the delicate, lacy geometry of the frost patterns the winter spirits weave across windowpanes on the coldest nights of the year. "The Throne has awakened!" the citizens cheered, their voices echoing through the crisp air. "The Throne has awakened! Long live the Guardians! May the winter magic reign supreme!" Of course, they had absolutely no idea yet that a fairy could be far more volatile, dangerous, and delightfully prone to pure havoc than any witch. But that, as they say, is a story for another day.