As the Seasons Come

I suck at intros. SO for me it's like, GET TO THE STORY ALREADY!!!!! I am impatient. 3....2......1

Chapter 2

Rowena Frost- Winter

I wake up to the feeling of snowfall on my face. My eyelids flutter open to see my father standing over me. My father is Jack Frost: Master of Winter. He is responsible for controlling the Winter, and making sure the season runs smoothly.

Whenever he feels a strong emotion, there is a small storm around him: positive means snow; negative means hail.

So I know he's proud of me as the snowflakes melt on my cheeks.

"Wake up, Ro," he says without smiling. "It is time to leave." He turns on his heels and strolls out of the room. I don't take any offense to it - he has an image to uphold. In order to maintain respect, he must seem on top of things and in charge, no one crosses him because he has been known to be cruel and vicious.

Beaming myself, I practically leap out of bed.

Today is the day that the competition starts. It is time for my father to pass on his job as controller of Winter. The 'heir' to the season is to be determined through a series of competitions designed to test our intelligence, skills, personalities, and althleticism.

Why my father can't just pass on the job to me, I have no idea. He is proud, and wants me to prove myself, or he would live out the rest of his life as the center of ridicule of others' jeers for picking favorites. My mother, Aneira, has the countenence of a queen, and walks with a regal air about her. She doesn't think I should be responsible for Winter at all, especially not at fourteen.

My father is escorted into another room by the castle guards so he can enter the throne room through a portal, and the door shuts behind him. My mother walks out the door and down the hall, her white fur robes dripping with icicles.

I study myself in the mirror, so I can look my best for a first impression. The mirror is frosting over all around the edges, so I try not to fog it up with my breath. My hair is down, as usual. It comes to my chin in choppy, wispy lengths. Honestly, it is so blonde it's nearly white, and recently I've had silvery hightlights growing in all over. My lips are thin and so light they are almost nonexistent. I have a heart-shaped face, with clear pale skin and nearly permanent pink cheeks from the cold. And then my eyes; they are piercing greyish-blue, with just a ring of silver around the edge. Overall, it gives me an elfish appearance.

I wear a fuzzy, but very thin, periwinkle coat, dark grey leggings, and silvery-white boots made of suede, that lace up just past my knees.

Taking Father's advice, I don't each much for breakfast. He tells me that early morning hunger gives me an edge, and that people must always be slightly intimidated of you if you want them to respect you. Mother says that it's foolishness, and I should eat in order to have the energy to start my day.

Regardless, I shove a biscuit into my mouth, shake my head around wildly to give my hair a wind-blown appearance, and dash to the throne room.

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After Father made his dramatic entrance into the throne room, he cleared his throat calmly but effectively. I clearly got my looks from him. We were nearly identical, except his hair was spiked up, and he inevitably aged with time and responsibility.

"Welcome," he announced monotonously. "Citizens of the Ice Castle. As you all know, my time as your leader is coming to an end. Instead of passing my responsibilities down to a blood-heir-" I wasn't surprised. He hardly referred to me as his daughter in public. "-we shall put the qualified young adults into a competition, specified to challenge their wits, abilities, character, and athleticism. If you break the rules provided at the beginning of each round, you will be disqualified. If you do not earn the required number of points in each test, you will no longer be eligable. Understood?" There was a slight murmur among the crowd. "Best of luck." And Jack Frost disappeared through the portal in a flurry of snowflakes.

I saw a group of elves enter the room. They weren't actual elves, but they resembled the devious creatures even more so than me. I confidently strutted to the man holding the sign reading A-N, throwing glares at anyone who challenged my presence, and sat down in a row of others. Moments later, my friend Wyntre Cullfront sat down next to me.

"Hey," she said casually. She was a close friend of mine, with admirable modesty and a healthy amount of confidence. We usually get along so well, but now, in the face of this once-in-a-millenia opportunity, I saw a hunger in her eyes.

A tense silence hung in the air between us all until they called my name: "Frost, Rowena Thalia."

Smiling mischeivously, I paraded my way into the testing room. But on the inside, I thought the nerves would eat me alive.

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