"Welcome to the heart of the Briarwoods, Frostveil!" Snow threw her arms as she exclaimed, stepping into the blinding white light.
Intrigued, I took a step into the blinding white light. My surroundings slowly morphed into white snow pastures and small houses surrounding the area. And there, standing tall and proud, was a palace, small but pristine white, shimmering gold painted on certain parts. Certainly, it was small, but its pure aura made it elegant and majestic. Surely, inside would be more comfortable than most palaces.
"This is my home, Frostveil! Isn't it pretty?" Snow winked at me before looking around her surroundings with awe.
"Snow, this is amazing!" I complimented. But I knew that this village was lacking in various ways. For one, their technology and settlement patterns were lacking. Their defence system were also…
"Princess Winter-sama! Where have you been? The King demands your presence," Suddenly, soldiers materialised from the surrounding mist, their movements swift and silent as snowfall. Within moments, a dozen of them encircled us—snow fox warriors, each dropping to one knee in perfect unison, heads bowed low in reverence.
Their armour gleamed faintly beneath the waning light, a blend of frosted silver and pale blue, designed to mirror the frozen forests around them. Etched on their breastplates were fine patterns, reminiscent of swirling snow and curling fox tails, glinting faintly like ice under moonlight. Over their shoulders draped white fur mantles, trimmed with hints of silver thread that shimmered as they moved.
Their helmets, sleek and fox-inspired, bore narrow slits that revealed only sharp, glacial eyes. Each carried a curved blade sheathed in ivory leather, the hilts adorned with small crystal pendants that refracted the dim light into shards of colour.
The air seemed to still around them—disciplined, elegant, and dangerous, they knelt before Snow like guardians greeting their princess.
"Princess Winter-sama?! You're a princess?!" I blurted.
"Tee hee! Bleh," Snow giggled and made a face at me.
I mentally took note the fact that none of the soldiers emitted astralis. Snow was right…
Wait, the longer I observed, the more I could feel the faint astralis burning within them. But their Astralis were far too little to awaken…
"You may rise," Snow now sounded cold and indifferent, almost like a different person altogether.
"Princess, we rushed here as soon as we heard someone used the teleportation portal, the King and…"
Before continuing his report, I heard a cry not too far away.
"Snow! My baby, you're ok!"
The soldiers parted to reveal a middle-aged man, followed by two seniors in their late 60s. Judging from the crown on the middle-aged man's head, I assumed that he was the king and the two seniors were his parents.
The granny rushed forward, immediately opening her arms, and Snow ran to embrace her hug willingly.
Still oblivious to my presence, Snow's father opened his arms wide, his expression softening with anticipation. "Come here, little one," he said warmly, waiting for a hug.
But Snow, still nestled in her grandmother's embrace, merely stuck out her tongue and shook her head with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, come on—no hug for your old man?" he protested, his shoulders drooping theatrically as he looked away, feigning deep heartbreak.
Then the grandfather strode forward with a hearty laugh, patting the father on the back.
"Don't take it personally—she just likes me better," he teased with a grin.
Before the father could respond, the old man joined his wife, wrapping his arms around Snow as well. The little fox girl squealed with laughter, caught between her grandparents' affectionate embrace, her fluffy tail wagging in delight.
I turned my gaze to see Snow starting to tear up as well. Looking at this perfect family reunion, it looked so wholesome, but something tells me that I am ruining this moment. From the glares of the soldiers, I think I am.
"Well then, I'll take my leave now." I turned toward the shimmering teleportation portal, raising a hand in farewell.
"Bye, Snow!" I called with a smile.
But before I could take a step, a small hand grabbed mine. "Wait! Don't go! Not yet!" Snow wriggled free from her grandparents' arms and tugged at my sleeve, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Ara~ Ara~ she lets you call her Snow?" her grandmother teased, a playful smirk curving her lips. "Then you must stay."
Snow's face turned bright crimson as she puffed out her cheeks. "O-Obaa-san!!" she cried, her tail flicking furiously as her grandmother chuckled behind her fan.
The King finally rose to his feet. Though his eyes were rimmed with red, he still carried himself with the unshakable dignity befitting a ruler.
"As the King of Frostveil, Leo—and the father of Snow—I must apologise for my earlier display," he said, his voice roughened with lingering emotion. "More importantly, I wish to thank you for bringing my daughter home safely." He inclined his head in solemn gratitude before continuing, "Please, accompany us to our residence and rest for a while. Afterward, you may tell us what transpired."
His tone was gentle, yet it carried the weight of inevitability, leaving me little choice but to nod in agreement. Just as I was about to follow behind them, Snow reached out and grabbed my hand, drawing startled glances from everyone around us. I let out an awkward chuckle and scratched the back of my head, at a loss for words in a situation like this.
As I stepped through the towering doors, the palace's grandeur immediately struck me. The hall stretched before me, a breathtaking expanse of white marble and ivory walls, each surface adorned with intricate gold accents that gleamed in the soft, ambient light. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, scattering rainbows across the polished floors, and long, elegant tapestries swayed gently along the walls. At the far end, a grand throne rose upon a raised dais, its gold filigree sparkling, draped with white silk cushions that radiated both majesty and refinement. Every corner of the hall whispered luxury, power, and timeless elegance, leaving me momentarily speechless.
However, only I knew that this was an illusion set up by the Celestian. Perhaps he did not have enough astralis to finish the rehab. Despite all the signs of the flickering luxurious image, the King chose to turn a blind eye, for I assume he had no idea what was wrong with his palace.
"Wow, that's so pretty," I whispered to Snow, trying to be polite. Snow grinned right away.
"I know, right? It's the best place on Earth!"
Without a word, Snow's father sat on the far end of the table, with me sitting opposite end of the table. Her grandmother sat to his right, and her grandfather to his left, clearly showing who had more power. Snow, on the other hand, sat on my right. I guess she couldn't sense the tension in this room at all. Sigh, what could I do?
With both elbows resting on the table and his fingers intertwined, the King leaned forward slightly, studying me with exaggerated seriousness.
"So," he began, his tone deep and authoritative—at least, it was supposed to be. "What's your name?"
The silence in the room was thick enough to hear the crackle of the nearby hearth. A few of the soldiers standing guard shifted uneasily, their spears slightly crooked, one even holding his upside down without realising.
"Hoshikawa," I replied simply.
He nodded slowly, as if the name carried some great weight. "Hoshikawa, huh…" He rubbed his chin dramatically, squinting as though deep in thought. "That's quite the… fancy name. Sounds strong."
I wasn't sure if it was meant as praise or small talk, but his grin gave him away, revealing that this man wasn't half as stern as he wanted to seem.
Then he suddenly slammed his palms on the table. "So!" he said brightly, startling everyone. "You're the one who brought my little Snow back home safe!"
Snow's ears twitched. "Papa—!" she hissed, cheeks flushing.
But her father was already leaning forward, eyes misting over. "To think my little girl went missing all these years, and then—sniff—comes walking home with a man…" He rubbed his eyes, failing to hide the tears threatening to spill. "My daughter's… all grown up…"
"Papa!" Snow wailed, her tail bristling as she stomped her foot. "It's not like that!"
Behind him, a few of the guards looked away, clearly used to this sort of thing. The grandmother sighed softly, hiding a fond smile behind her sleeve.
The King quickly straightened up, clearing his throat and trying to reclaim his composure. "Ahem. Anyway, I must thank you, Hoshikawa. You've done us a great kindness."
His gaze wandered across the room—its gold and ivory shimmered faintly, but not naturally. The illusion wavered at the edges, like a mirage about to fade. "Our tribe…" he said quietly, the smile on his face dimming, "we're not exactly what we used to be."
For a brief moment, the glamour flickered—and beneath the white marble floor, I glimpsed rough stone, cracked and uneven. The ornate chandeliers dissolved into old lanterns; the gleaming pillars into worn, frostbitten beams.
"We were never strong," he continued softly. "No grand Celestblades, no brilliant Celestians. Just foxfolk—ordinary, frail, and without Astralis. For generations, we were the ones others mocked… the ones left behind."
He paused, his fingers tightening together as a fragile smile crossed his face. "Until one day, a kind Celestian passed by. He saw our suffering, and with the last of his Astralis, he cast this barrier around our home—and wove an illusion to make it look like a palace. Not out of pride, but mercy. So we wouldn't have to live surrounded by the ruins of what little we had."
The air grew still. Only the faint hum of the illusion remained, shimmering like the echo of a memory.
Then, the King chuckled weakly, wiping at the corner of his eye. "So, no, we're not warriors or nobles. But we're still here. Still laughing, still annoying each other, still alive." He smiled at Snow, his voice soft and trembling. "That's enough for me."
He looked back at me then, the flickering light painting both the illusion and the truth over his face. "And for bringing my daughter home… You have my deepest thanks."
Then, as if realising the mood had gone too quiet, he clapped his hands together. "Alright! Enough of this gloomy talk! We should celebrate Snow's return. Bring out the best—uh…" He turned toward a nearby guard. "What's left in the pantry?"
The guard hesitated. "...Two carrots and a fish tail, sir."
He froze, then let out a hearty laugh. "Perfect! A feast fit for heroes!"
Snow sighed into her hands. "Papa, you're embarrassing me…"
He reached over to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Embarrassing you? Bah! It's a father's job to cry and embarrass his daughter in front of guests!"
Everyone in the room couldn't help but laugh. Despite their worn-down home, the warmth in the air felt genuine. This wasn't the grand, cold dignity of Frostveil's royalty—it was a family that had weathered hardship and still found joy in each other.
Then, he looked back at me again, his expression softening once more. "Hoshikawa… from the bottom of my heart, thank you for bringing my little girl home." His eyes shone with sincerity, and though his smile was crooked, it was real. "You'll always have a place here, no matter what you are or where you came from."
Snow smiled faintly beside him, her hand tugging lightly at my sleeve under the table.
And for a moment, despite the cracked walls and flickering lights, this humble, struggling tribe felt warmer than any palace I'd ever seen.
Dinner should have been peaceful.
It should have been simple—just a plate of vegetables, a quiet evening, and Snow humming softly as she swung her legs beneath the table.
Instead… one single carrot ignited a household uprising.
Snow's nose twitched.
Her brows furrowed.
Her entire soul recoiled.
"…Papa," she whispered slowly, poking her sad, wrinkled, vaguely orange overcooked carrot with the tip of her fork. "What is this?"
Leo, blissfully unaware of the incoming disaster, puffed his chest with pride. "Dinner!"
Snow lifted the carrot between two fingers, examining it like a cursed relic dug out of the ruins of an ancient civilization. She sniffed it. Turned it left. Turned it right. Tapped it against the plate.
Clink.
A vegetable should NOT clink.
"Papa…" she murmured, voice trembling. "Why is it making noises?"
Leo blinked. "Because it's… crunchy?"
"No," Snow declared, placing the carrot on the table like sacred evidence. "Crunchy carrots bend, Papa. This one reflects light."
Granny flicked open her fan with a crisp snap, eyes gleaming with interest.
"My, my… it does look a little petrified."
"A little?" Snow gasped dramatically. "Granny, this carrot has been through more than I have."
I coughed, trying (and failing) to hide my laughter.
Leo shot me a suspicious side-eye, as if I had hexed the carrot into its current fossilized form.
But things only got worse for him.
"Snow prefers the food Kawa cooked for me better…" Snow whined dramatically, prodding the carrot again. It made another clack. "This is so overcooked and old…"
"But why, Snow??" Leo dropped into a crouch beside her, exasperated. "You used to eat these kinds of food all the time!"
Then something finally stirred in the dusty attic of his mind.
A spark.
A click.
A revelation.
His head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing with betrayal.
"…It's you."
He jabbed an accusatory finger at me.
"It's you!!! This is all your fault! You— you twisted her taste buds, you wicked wizard! You culinary corrupter! You— you— you—!!"
He launched into an entire list of punishments he believed I deserved. Something about boiling me with herbs for 'balance.' I lost track after "banish him from the kitchen realm forever."
"I did no such evil deed," I smirked, folding my arms smugly as his rant intensified.
Granny hid a giggle behind her fan.
"Oh my, this is getting interesting."
Meanwhile Snow wasn't done interrogating her dinner.
She picked up a potato chunk, tapped it, and winced.
"Papa… this potato has crystals on it."
"It's… seasoning?" Leo tried weakly.
"It's ice." She deadpanned. "Papa, it froze, thawed, froze again, and resurrected itself like a zombie potato."
Granny gasped.
"Oh dear, this is better than the theatre."
Leo grabbed the pot in desperation. "No! Look! It's perfectly fine inside!"
He tipped it forward.
A chunk of stew slid out in a single gelatinous mass, wobbling like it had achieved self-awareness.
Snow jumped in her seat. "Papa… it's moving."
"It is NOT—!" Leo yelped, poking it aggressively.
It jiggled.
Menacingly.
Granny nodded. "It is definitely moving."
Leo groaned and looked at me for backup.
I shrugged. "I'm… not touching that."
Snow folded her arms like a tiny queen delivering judgment.
"Papa, food is supposed to be fresh."
"It is fresh!" Leo insisted.
"Papa."
One word.
Pure authority.
He wilted instantly.
Snow held up the carrot again, eyes blazing with righteous fury.
"This carrot is older than my age."
"SNOW!! You're six, it's not older than—!"
"It's EMOTIONALLY older!" she declared dramatically.
I nearly choked.
Granny clapped softly. "Excellent delivery."
Snow sighed with world-weary disappointment.
"Kawa's food was warm… soft… tasty… My taste buds finally awakened. And now you want to feed me this ancient relic?"
Leo snapped.
"Oh, I SEE HOW IT IS!!" he roared.
He pointed at me again with renewed fury.
"You—YOU—YOU WICKED WIZARD!! YOU TASTE-MAGIC MENACE!! YOU HAVE CORRUPTED MY CHILD!! A—"
I smirked. "A talented chef."
"NO!!! A MENACE!!!"
He slammed a hand on the table dramatically.
Snow slammed the carrot back.
"Papa!!! Focus!! Tell me how old this carrot is right now!!"
Leo froze.
The carrot glinted ominously under the lantern light like a polished stone unearthed from an archaeological dig.
Leo swallowed hard.
"…Two and a half months old," he whispered.
Granny gasped theatrically.
Snow's soul visibly left her body.
"Papa…" she hissed through clenched teeth. "How many times do you want me to tell you—"
Leo groaned and buried his face in his hands, mumbling into the table.
Snow started lecturing him like a seasoned housewife.
Leo rolled his eyes mid-scolding and shot me a glare that clearly said:
This is all your fault.
I lowered my head under the table, shoulders shaking from holding in my laughter.
This chaotic, dramatic, ridiculous little family…
Despite the chaos—
despite the overcooked vegetables attempting to start a rebellion—
despite Leo's screaming, Granny's delighted commentary, and Snow's mini-melodramatic meltdown—
It was warm.
It was alive.
It was home.
And honestly?
Moments like this made it impossible not to smile.