The moon hung high above the sea, casting silvery reflections across the ice-covered waters as the waves gently lapped beneath frozen bridges and thawed out ice.
Peggy stood at the edge of the cliffside camp, arms folded,watching Glacius as he sat, once again unmoving, his back turned and breath fogging in the cold air.
She approached slowly. Again, she thought. Always distant, always cold.
"You never talk much, do you?" she said softly.
Glacius didn't even glance at her. "Talking leads to foolishness. This should be nothing more than some childish game. Nothing significant."
Peggy sighed and stepped back. "Right. Just... childish."
She didn't push further. She knew him by now. The silence was his comfort. The solitude his armor.
Glacius continued, more to himself than to her. "I'm only preserving what I touch. My ice brings perfect stillness — perfection through pause. The aquatic territories, the islands, their people... I'm making them last forever."
Peggy raised an eyebrow. "And I'm ruining it all."
A tiny smirk touched his lips. "You must be very attached to me if you keep following me."
Her cheeks heated slightly, wings twitching behind her. "I'm doing my duty," she muttered, looking away. "If I weren't here, all these villages would be statues by now. It's because of me there's still water flowing and lives moving. You would've preserved everyone into frozen dolls."
No reply.
She turned toward him again... only to find him leaning back, completely asleep, arms crossed, a faint puff of icy breath rising from his nose.
"Unbelievable."
Peggy narrowed her eyes in mild annoyance, but deep down, she smiled. "You're impossible," she whispered.
She lay down beside him — as she had so many times over the last ten days — and gently wrapped her glowing wings around his form, pulling him into a warm shield of fairy light. It wasn't just to keep him warm. It was to keep him here. With her. To keep him from slipping away into that cold silence and lifeless conquest again.
As she rested her head beside his shoulder, her sparkles drifted down, dancing across his frostbitten armor like gentle fireflies.
Glacius shifted slightly in his sleep — unconsciously moving closer into the curve of her wings.
He was used to this now. The warmth. The quiet comfort. The sparkles.
And Peggy? She was used to him, too.
The freezing, the silence, the solitude — none of it scared her anymore.
She had found her place beside the coldest prince of all.
And as long as she was there, he would never walk alone into lifeless stillness again.
_ _ _
The morning breeze rolled across the sea, bringing with it a biting chill as the icy tide advanced — pushed forward by Glacius' unrelenting frost.
He stepped across the ocean's surface like it were solid land, his boots crunching against the thick ice trail he left in his wake. Every step spread more of his frozen domain — pillars of frost climbed the sides of aquatic homes, water routes sealed with pristine, glassy stillness, and entire coral fields were turned into pale, silent sculptures beneath the ice.
Behind him, a soft golden glow shimmered.
Peggy.
Her wings beat steadily as she floated just above the ice, melting paths wherever she passed. Her light beams shimmered across the frozen terrain, carefully thawing what was necessary — homes, boats, flow paths, the people encased in sudden ice. She never completely melted his work, just enough to let life continue within it.
Where Glacius brought eternal pause, she brought renewal.
They moved like opposite brushstrokes on the same canvas — ice and light, ruin and revival, death and life — balancing each other with a rhythm they no longer questioned.
Glacius didn't glance back. He never did.
But in truth, he always felt her there.
And while his face remained its usual expressionless chill, his pace softened slightly. There was a quiet relief in her presence. Even if she ruined his perfect freezes, even if she constantly thawed what he so carefully preserved — he never stopped her. He could have. But he didn't.
Because somewhere inside him — the cold prince who had always walked alone — was... glad.
Glad she was still there.
Glad someone was following.
And Peggy?
She had long since understood the rhythm of his stride. She watched his movements with quiet familiarity, knowing which areas he'd freeze too deep, which houses needed extra warmth. She'd smile faintly to herself every time she saw his frost veer slightly to the side — avoiding the densest parts of neutral villages.
He was changing. Quietly. Subtly.
And it wasn't because of a grand declaration or dramatic shift.
It was because he knew she would always be behind him — not to fight him, not to stop him, but to keep him balanced.
He conquered.
She restored.
Together, they protected more than they ruined — unknowingly becoming guardians of the aquatic territories.
And as the sun rose higher, casting light across the oceanic ice, the two continued forward — different, opposite, yet inseparably bound by an unspoken connection neither could fully explain.
The cold spread slowly, silently.
Glacius stood on the edge of a glimmering expanse, gazing out toward a distant island. From this distance, he could see it was rich with trees, vibrant green pockets dotting its hilly terrain, and surrounded by shimmering waters — waters bustling with aquatic neutrals going about their lives, unaware of the cold wave that was about to approach.
Without a word, he raised one hand, frost swirling around his palm. With each forward step, the sea hardened beneath him, forming irregular patches of ice.
It wasn't his usual clean path of perfection. The edges of each frozen plate were jagged, uneven — interfered with.
Behind him, as always, Peggy moved gracefully, her golden wings shimmering with every beat.
She hovered just above the water, aiming warm light beams downward to thaw where necessary. She never completely erased his work — only enough to let oxygen pass through cracks, to let sea creatures escape being sealed beneath the surface, to keep the aquatic life alive.
"Why must you always ruin the pattern?" Glacius muttered, his breath misting in the air. He didn't turn around. He never did.
"Because your 'pattern' kills everything if I don't," Peggy replied with a yawn. "You really need to learn to preserve life, not death on pause."
"I am preserving life," he said coolly. "My way is perfection — eternal stillness, perfect form. Nature is messy. It decays. I fix that."
Peggy rolled her eyes, melting another section of frozen kelp forest beneath them. "You fix it by killing its soul."
They finally reached the island's shore.
Glacius raised his hand once more. Frost surged forward, freezing sand and vegetation alike, racing up tree trunks and encasing wild fruits in layers of crystal.
"This island," he announced calmly, "is now under the rule of Glacius, Prince of Ice. Its chaos ends here. It will be part of the preserved world."
Screams broke out among the aquatic neutrals as they scrambled to escape his advancing chill. One of the younger ones froze mid-step, caught in the creeping frost.
But moments later, golden sparkles rained down.
Peggy landed softly, kneeling beside the frozen youth. She pressed her glowing hand against the ice, the light radiating through it, thawing him free. Her wings glowed as she spread beams of warmth across the village, thawing out frozen homes, trees, and ponds.
"You have to freeze everything, don't you?" she muttered, brushing ice crystals from her hair.
"You never understand," Glacius replied. "Perfection is wasted on you."
"And you never consider anyone else's ideals," Peggy said flatly, hands on her hips. "Dictatorship is not preservation. You think you're protecting life, but you're actually just scared of it changing."
Glacius paused. "You really are the most annoying fairy alive."
She grinned. "Yet you still let me follow you,old man Glacius."
He turned to glare, frost forming briefly beneath his boots. "You called me an old man?"
"You are an old man," she replied sweetly. "Grumbling about ideals and rules and eternal preservation. I'm surprised you don't carry a frozen walking stick."
"I'm only four years older than you."
"Exactly. So I'm not a child," she shot back.
Glacius narrowed his eyes. "Any other girl would've fallen for me already. I could've had a queen to rule beside me — together, bringing order to this chaotic world."
Peggy gave a light laugh. "Unfortunately for you, I don't believe in freezing everyone to control them. Your rule is cold, heartless. I'd rather set fire to that crown of yours."
He walked deeper into the forest, his hand outstretched, freezing vines, leaves, and soil with ease.
Trees cracked under the weight of sudden ice as frost spread in slow domination.
Peggy floated beside him, blasting bursts of soft light against the worst of the freeze — enough to let the squirrels escape, to keep the roots alive beneath the surface.
As he advanced with every elegant, merciless step, she followed with every careful thaw, leaving life in his wake instead of death.
Glacius declared in his usual icy tone, "This land, too, is mine. Order will be brought here."
Peggy rolled her eyes. "And I'll be right behind you, making sure you don't suffocate it."
They didn't look at each other.
They didn't need to.
Because beneath all the jabs and opposite ideologies, they were already used to each other by now.