The Princess Behind the Prophecy

Somewhere beyond the boundaries of the human world, a kingdom was slowly forgetting what it meant to be powerful. The first sign appeared in the northern watchtower. For centuries, the blue flames that burned along the walls of Frost had never gone out. They glowed through blizzards, illuminated the darkest nights, and warned the kingdom whenever danger approached its borders. But on that morning, one of the flames flickered. Then it disappeared. The guard stationed nearby stared at the empty lantern, waiting for the familiar blue light to return. When it did not, he hurried down the tower and reported what he had witnessed. By noon, three more flames had vanished. By sunset, the protective barrier surrounding the kingdom had weakened enough for the royal mages to feel the difference. And by the following morning, King Akin Frost had summoned his council. Inside the grand throne room, the atmosphere was unusually tense. Tall windows overlooked the snow-covered capital, where the people continued their daily routines without knowing that the magic protecting their homes was slowly disappearing. At the center of the room stood the king. Akin Frost was not a man who frightened easily. He had ruled through political disputes, border conflicts, and years of uneasy peace with neighboring kingdoms. His silver-streaked hair and steady blue eyes carried the weight of a ruler who had learned that hesitation could cost thousands of lives. Yet even he could not ignore what was happening. "How much longer?" he asked. The royal mage standing before him lowered his head. "Your Majesty, the barrier may hold for several months. Perhaps less if its power continues to decline at this rate." "Months?" the king repeated. "You expect me to reassure my people with months?" "No, Your Majesty." "Then give me something useful." The mage swallowed. "We believe the kingdom's magic is responding to something beyond our understanding. We have examined the barrier, the royal grounds, and the northern mountains. Nothing explains the decline." King Akin looked toward the enormous windows. Beyond them, the kingdom of Frost stretched across a landscape of white mountains, frozen lakes, and towering castles. It was a land built upon magic, a kingdom whose strength had protected its people for generations. If that strength disappeared, Frost would no longer be the kingdom its people knew. And its enemies would notice. "Has Erotorio heard about this?" the king asked. The council exchanged uneasy glances. "Not officially," one adviser answered. "But their border patrols have become more active. We cannot be certain they haven't noticed the changes." The king's expression hardened. Erotorio. The neighboring kingdom had never forgiven Frost for the invasion that had once brought their armies to the gates of its royal palace. The fighting had ended years ago, but peace had never truly repaired what the war had broken. Frost had survived the conflict and maintained its position as a powerful kingdom. Erotorio had survived, too. And survival had never meant forgiveness. "Strengthen the border patrols," Akin ordered. "Do not provoke them, but do not allow their soldiers to cross into our territory unnoticed. Until we understand what is happening, I want every report brought directly to me." The council bowed. "And summon my sons." The three princes were in the western training courtyard when the royal messenger found them. Zavier Frost stood in the center of the courtyard, his sword raised as he faced two royal guards. His movements were precise, his footing steady. He did not waste energy on unnecessary flourishes, nor did he allow the guards to dictate the rhythm of the fight. When one attacked from the left, Zavier turned, deflected the strike, and disarmed him in a single controlled movement. The second guard barely had time to react before Zavier's blade stopped a breath away from his chest. "Again," Zavier said. The guard stared at him. "Your Highness, I believe we have established the outcome." "Then you should have no difficulty improving it." From a nearby bench, Chain Frost let out a laugh. "One day, brother, you'll challenge a chair to a duel and demand that it improve its defense." Zavier lowered his sword and glanced at him. "One day, you'll discover that silence is a useful skill." "An unfortunate day for everyone." A third voice interrupted them. "Can both of you stop talking about fighting and actually fight?" Hiro Frost stood beside the weapons rack, holding two practice swords. He tossed one toward Chain, who caught it without looking. Chain examined the sword. "Why do I need this?" "Because I'm challenging you." "You're challenging me?" "Yes." "Did you hit your head this morning?" Hiro frowned. "Are you accepting or not?" Chain rose with exaggerated reluctance. "I suppose someone has to teach you humility." "That's funny. Father says you need more of it yourself." Zavier sheathed his sword. "Try not to injure each other before the king summons us." Chain placed a hand over his heart. "I would never injure our youngest brother." Hiro smiled. "Really?" "I would simply allow him to injure himself through poor judgment." Hiro lunged. Chain dodged, laughing as the practice sword swept past him. Within seconds, the courtyard had descended into a chaotic exchange of clumsy attacks, dramatic complaints, and Chain's increasingly creative excuses for why he was not taking the fight seriously. Zavier watched them for a moment. For all their differences, the three brothers shared something that neither their titles nor their responsibilities could erase. They had grown up together, fought together, and learned to recognize one another's moods long before either had to explain them. Zavier carried the burden of being the eldest and the future king. Chain preferred to question every rule that did not interest him. And Hiro, the youngest, possessed an almost unreasonable curiosity about everything beyond the palace walls. Sometimes Zavier wondered how the three of them had managed to survive childhood without destroying the castle. "Princes," the royal messenger called from the entrance. "His Majesty requests your presence in the throne room. Immediately." Chain stopped moving. He looked at Hiro. "Congratulations. You have finally been summoned to answer for your crimes." "What crimes?" "Existing loudly." Hiro swung his sword at him. Chain ducked and hurried toward the exit. "Come along, criminal!" Zavier shook his head, but the faintest trace of amusement crossed his face. Then he followed his brothers inside. He had no idea that before the day ended, the king would give them a mission that would change the future of all three of their lives. The throne room doors closed behind them. Zavier immediately noticed that something was wrong. His father stood before the throne instead of sitting upon it. Several royal advisers remained along the walls, and a map of the kingdom had been spread across a long table. There was no sign of the usual ceremonial gathering. This was not a routine meeting. "Father," Zavier greeted, bowing his head. Chain and Hiro followed. King Akin studied his sons before speaking. "Do you know what is happening to our kingdom?" Hiro glanced at Chain. "Have we finally run out of the kitchen's honey cakes?" Chain looked offended. "Speak for yourself. I have never run out of anything." "Enough," Zavier said quietly. The brothers fell silent. Their father approached the map. "Frost is losing its magic." For the first time that morning, Chain had nothing to say. Hiro's expression changed. "How is that possible?" "We do not yet know," the king answered. "The protective barrier is weakening. The royal mages have been unable to stop it, and the decline is accelerating." Zavier studied the map. "Has the source been identified?" "No." "Could it be an attack?" "It is possible, but we have found no evidence of one." "Then we need to investigate the cause before we assume someone is responsible." Akin gave a slight nod. He had expected that answer from his eldest son. "That is why I have called you here." He turned toward the tall windows. "There is an old prophecy preserved in our kingdom's history. For generations, it was regarded as a promise that Frost would never fall. I believed it was a reminder of our people's resilience. Now, I fear we misunderstood its meaning." Hiro stepped closer. "What does it say?" The king recited the words slowly. "When Frost loses the power that guards its throne, a destined princess from the human world shall appear. Through her, the kingdom may rise again. But she must be found before darkness claims what remains." The room fell silent. Chain crossed his arms. "So we are searching for a princess from another world because our own kingdom is running out of magic." "That is the meaning we have come to understand," Akin replied. "And how exactly are we supposed to recognize her?" Chain asked. "Will she arrive wearing a crown? Will the sky turn blue? Will someone announce her with trumpets?" "Chain," Zavier warned. "What? Those seem like reasonable questions." "They are," their father said. "And we have no answers to them." That silenced Chain more effectively than Zavier could have. Hiro stared at the map. "The human world," he murmured. His brothers looked at him. "What about it?" Zavier asked. Hiro hesitated. "I've been there before." Chain slowly turned toward him. "Of course you have." "It wasn't intentional!" "You accidentally crossed into another world?" "I got lost!" "How does someone get lost between worlds?" "Would you like me to explain the entire experience, or would you prefer to continue being annoying?" "Both, preferably." Zavier raised a hand. "Later." Hiro fell quiet, although his expression suggested he had several more arguments prepared. The king regarded his youngest son. "You have been to the human world, Hiro. That experience may prove useful. But this mission will require more than curiosity." "I understand, Father." "Do you?" Akin asked. Hiro straightened. "Yes." The king's gaze shifted to Zavier. "As my eldest son and heir, you will lead this mission. You will determine how the investigation proceeds, decide which leads deserve attention, and ensure that your brothers return safely." Zavier inclined his head. "I will." "Chain, I expect you to use your judgment. Your ability to read people may prove more valuable than you realize." Chain's expression grew more serious. "And Hiro," the king continued, "you must learn that kindness and trust are not the same as recklessness." Hiro nodded. "I understand." Akin looked at all three of them. "You will travel to the human world and investigate the women who may be connected to the prophecy. You are not to announce your identities, reveal the condition of our kingdom, or tell anyone the real purpose of your visit." "Why not?" Hiro asked. "Because if the wrong people discover what we are searching for, they may attempt to find the princess before us." Zavier understood immediately. "Erotorio." "Among others," the king replied. "We cannot assume that everyone who learns of this prophecy will wish to help Frost." Chain's jaw tightened. "If Erotorio discovers that the destined princess could restore our magic, Jiro will certainly want to find her." Prince Jiro of Erotorio was not a man who accepted the possibility of losing an advantage. He had grown up hearing about the invasion of his homeland and the suffering it had caused. Whatever peace existed between the two kingdoms, distrust remained. If Jiro learned that a woman from the human world could determine Frost's future, he might see her as a way to strengthen his own kingdom—or weaken his rival. "Then we must find her first," Zavier said. "Yes," his father answered. "But remember this: the prophecy does not say that the first remarkable woman you meet will be the princess. You must not allow wealth, beauty, reputation, or personal feelings to cloud your judgment." His gaze lingered on Zavier. "Your responsibility is not to find the woman who appears most suitable for a throne. It is to discover the truth." Zavier met his father's eyes. "I understand." "And if the truth is not what we expect?" Hiro asked. The king's expression softened, though only slightly. "Then we must have the courage to accept it." Their preparations began before sunset. The human world was not entirely unfamiliar to Frost's royal family, but travel between the two worlds had become increasingly difficult over the years. The gateway that connected them had once been stable. Now, like the kingdom's protective barrier, it was weakening. The royal mages had managed to open it temporarily. It would remain accessible for two months. After that, no one could promise when it would open again. "You have sixty days," the king told his sons as they gathered in the palace's eastern chamber. "Sixty days to find a princess, determine whether she is the one from the prophecy, and bring her back?" Chain asked. "Father, I hope you realize that finding a suitable place to eat in an unfamiliar city can take half a day." "Then you should begin by eating less." Hiro laughed. Chain pointed at him. "You are enjoying this far too much." "I'm just glad someone finally found a way to silence you." Zavier ignored them and examined the supplies laid out on the table. "We'll need human clothing, money, identification, and a place to stay. We also need a reliable guide who understands the human world." "Already arranged," said a woman from the doorway. All three princes turned. Echo entered carrying a folder beneath one arm. She was a trusted guide who had spent years studying the human world and its customs. She knew its cities, transportation systems, social expectations, and the many small details that could expose someone unfamiliar with ordinary human life. She also knew the princes well enough to regret accepting the assignment before it had even begun. Echo placed the folder on the table. "I've prepared a list of possible candidates based on the information available to the royal advisers. It's incomplete, and none of these women should be considered the princess until we have evidence." Zavier opened the folder. Several names appeared on the first page. Sophia Louise White. BeatriceCammeron. Latarina Montevilla. He studied the list without comment. Chain leaned over his shoulder. "Anyone here look particularly suspicious?" "They're names on a list," Zavier replied. "That is all we know." "An inspiring beginning." Echo took the folder back and divided the information into three sections. "I suggest we investigate different leads while keeping one another informed. We should observe the candidates in their ordinary environments, learn about their character, and look for anything that genuinely connects them to the prophecy." "And we should not approach them as princes," Zavier added. "Correct. If a candidate realizes she's being investigated by the royal family of another world, the entire mission becomes considerably more complicated." Hiro examined the names. "What if the princess doesn't know she's the princess?" "Then she may have no reason to suspect anything unusual about herself," Echo replied. "We must not expect her to recognize the prophecy or understand what it means." Zavier closed the folder. "We'll investigate carefully. No unnecessary magic, no reckless decisions, and no revealing who we are. If we encounter a situation we don't understand, we discuss it before acting." Chain raised his hand. "Does that include situations involving terrible food?" "No." "Then I have serious concerns about this mission." "Your concerns have been noted." "And ignored?" "Entirely." Hiro laughed again. For a brief moment, the chamber felt almost ordinary. Then Echo opened the eastern window. Beyond the palace, the gateway shimmered in the distance—a faint blue opening suspended between the ancient stone pillars. Its light was weaker than it should have been, wavering like a flame struggling against the wind. The sight erased the remaining humor from the room. They had no guarantee that the gateway would remain open for the full two months. They had no proof that the destined princess even existed. And they had no idea what would happen if they failed. Zavier looked at his brothers. "We leave at dawn." Chain nodded, his usual smile fading into determination. Hiro took one last look at the names in the folder. Somewhere in the human world, there was a woman whose existence might determine the fate of their kingdom. She might be wealthy or poor, confident or shy, admired by many or known by almost no one. She might already possess extraordinary abilities. Or she might be living an ordinary life, completely unaware that another world was waiting for her. "Do you think she'll want to come with us?" Hiro asked. Zavier considered the question. "We don't know her yet." "Then how will we convince her?" "We won't begin by convincing her of anything," Zavier replied. "We'll begin by finding out who she is." Echo gave a small, approving nod. It was the right answer. But none of them realized how difficult it would be to follow. Far beyond Frost's borders, in the rival kingdom of Erotorio, Prince Jiro stood before a balcony overlooking his capital. An adviser approached him with a sealed report. "Your Highness. We have received word from our informants. Frost's royal family is preparing to send representatives into the human world." Jiro accepted the report. "Representatives?" "The king's three sons." For a moment, Jiro said nothing. Then he opened the report and read the brief account of Frost's weakening magical defenses. His expression remained composed, but his fingers tightened around the paper. "So the rumors are true," he murmured. "Your Highness?" "Frost is losing its power." The adviser hesitated. "And the princes are searching for something in the human world. We don't yet know what." Jiro turned toward the distant horizon. For years, he had watched Frost enjoy the strength and security that his own kingdom had struggled to regain. He had heard the stories of the invasion, the lives it had destroyed, and the suffering his people were expected to forget in the name of peace. He had never forgotten. If Frost was finally becoming vulnerable, Jiro would not allow the opportunity to pass without understanding it. "Find out what they're looking for," he ordered. "Quietly. I want names, connections, and every useful detail you can uncover." "And if we discover the purpose of their mission?" Jiro's gaze sharpened. "Then we decide what to do with that knowledge." He returned to the report. The names of the women on Frost's candidate list had not yet reached him. But they would. And when they did, two kingdoms would begin searching for the same answer—each convinced that the future belonged to whoever found it first.