DARK ICE
—
By Katherine Briggs
Today, I will accomplish my first execution.
I wait inside the glass Tank, designed to contain my victim and me. The inside of mountainous Ootoli is barely warmer than the icy surface. I should have frozen to death, and I owe my despised survival to the ice disease long taking over my body. I can’t remember when my dream of rescue died.
My tall, frightful Ootoli captors, wrapped in warm synthetic skins, observe me closely. I do not like them looking at me. They whisper that my frail female body, made of dust, is a perfect, malleable vessel for the infection’s manifestation.
The four thick walls of my glass prison feel too small. The force inside me knows what it will perform, and its strength burns. The part of me that used to be human feels what the new, created me cannot. Fear.
I moan, and my anguish creates the swirling wind and hail that I hate. Snow races through my veins and swirls inside my mind. My open hands give birth to ice. I cannot feel the chill because it is part of me. It is all I see. By agonizing force, I have become a monster of frozen destruction.
The Ootoli watch my storm with pleased smiles. And they tremble.
The disease overtakes my mind. I flinch, but cannot escape. This began when I first doubted the Voice that is stronger, when hope failed. Terrified, I surrender to the infection’s dark and ancient tongue.
Destroy. Make me greater. Destroy!
My disease pauses, feeling its presence touched by another. It is curious.
A young man is thrown into our Tank, and the glass portal grinds shut. He crouches and crosses his arms over his face protectively.
Our victim. An enemy so hated by the Ootoli to be deemed worthy of my formal execution.
The part that remains me silently screams in horror.
His unshaven head and the large, gold pendant hanging from his neck shout princely status. Intricate tattoos cover the backs of his hands and symbolize that he is a possessor of power.
The victim raises his face.
I am captured by powerful eyes, the colors of deep space, and noble features lined by hunger and torture. He recognizes me, as I do him. He forms a word, and somehow through the storm, I hear his voice.
His eyes are wide with desperation. “Esther.”
My forgotten name.
Shattered memories tear through my mind.
He is Zeiel. Wielder of fire. He proved his galaxy-wide reputation for daring years ago when he rescued my American Intelligence and Exploration team. My allegiance became his, and so much more, until he accepted his own freedom for our capture. Because of him, the Ootoli possessed me.
Traitor. Enemy.
My purpose is to destroy him. And I want to. I feel my disease’s pleasure with my hatred. Zeiel is weak, and torture has emptied him of fire. Now, he will freeze.
My storm builds. I take ice into my hands, scream with anger, and create a cyclone of destruction.
He will pay for what he has done to me.
Destroy!
Fury drives my power to a new and terrible zenith. The Ootoli stare in terror and ecstasy. I am Dark Ice.
Zeiel crouches again. Helpless.
Suddenly, the Voice older than time whispers to me. The One I thought held all power, and had abandoned me.
Esther, your vengeance is mine.
I falter.
The storm rages for release. I gasp for breath as it forces me to approach Zeiel. I tower over his huddled frame, unable to feel the bite of ice as he does, but suffocating from the power raging inside me. Ice and fury will be released, and my weak human hands will pour out absolute death.
The two voices battle within my mind.
Destroy! Avenge!
Trust me.
I reach toward my enemy, and realize I am as helpless as he.
With my last strength, I instead kneel beside him, my forehead touching his. The disease is confused and does not stop me. I slip my closed fists, palms up, under Zeiel’s hands.
Zeiel, battered by my snow and unable to open his eyes, tenses at my touch. He understands, and interlaces his finger with mine. He accepts my power.
The ice disease, realizing what I have done, shrieks. But it is absorbed into a body stronger than mine, that of a fire wielder.
Zeiel’s eyes flutter, open in shock.
I stare back. I realize I am bitterly cold.
The enraged Ootoli howl and load their weapons.
Zeiel stands, pulling me up with him. One arm wrapping me against his chest, he extends his other hand and releases a flood of scalding water that shatters the glass walls of the Tank.
The Ootoli run screeching. The few who attempt to shoot us are swept away.
Water pools inside the mountain cavern, covering broken glass, and sloshes warm against my ankles. I struggle to breathe, both against the spray of water hitting my face and my returning emotions. Then I feel Zeiel release me.
Would he abandon me again? Or worse?
To my shock, he lifts his hands over his head. He intends to destroy himself by his own power.
I throw my arms around his neck and press my face into his shoulder. “Zeiel, no!”
He chokes. “I would rather die than accept this mercy, Esther!”
I grit my teeth against the pain of my breaking heart. “If I had destroyed you, I would have committed what I hate and destroyed myself. Mercy is life, and I choose life.”
He pushes me away, and I splash backwards into the lake he created. I sputter to the surface and see him spiral into a fountain of crystal blue water, break through the top of the frozen mountain, and vanish into the exposed night sky.
Sirens wail above me. Drawn by Zeiel’s flight, American Interplanetary Rescue had finally found me.
“Dark Ice” originally appeared in Havok Magazine 2.1 published under Katie Lohr. Digital and physical copies may be purchased here.
