The Frozen Beginning (Elemental Diamond Book 1)

by Daphne Robynson

  Dad, help me!

  When the air refuses to pass her lips, Glacier’s eyes droop close. The last thing she sees is Thomes pointing to her father’s body, speaking to the recovering guards behind him.

  ~

  A harsh irritation across Glacier’s wrists wakes her from the hazy darkness. Her mind remains as foggy as her sight.

  Her back is set straight by the backrest of an uncomfortable chair. Her arms rest on thin armrests. Glacier blinks a few times, trying to clear the fog over her eyes before she tries to rub them.

  Her wrists snag on what feels like a smooth, plastic tie. Through the fog clouding her sight, Glacier can see thick white cable ties holding her wrists down to the wooden arm rests. Tugging a few times, the sharp ties dug into her skin harshly. She hisses at the burning discomfort.

  “Finally, you’re awake.”

  Her head shoots up, flicking her frizzy curls back past her shoulders. Everything spins around in her head like a tornado from the swift movement.

  Squeezing her eyes shut until she doesn’t feel sick, she slowly opens them again. This time her vision clearer. Standing in front of her is a man Glacier had only seen a handful of times on the projections around the region.

  Chancellor Gord Staren.

  He has been Chancellor of Hydren for the past twenty-four years, elected when he was twenty. His light blonde hair is highlighted with grey streaks. His sapphire eyes are surrounded with worry lines and crows’ feet. His white dress shirt is loose over his frame, but his white-spotted blue tie hangs from his collar respectfully.

  His desk is large, easily too big for a small man like him. Despite it dwarfing him, he has attempted to match its size with unnecessary accessories to make it seem smaller than it is.

  After a quick glance across his desk, Glacier’s eyes latch onto a family picture sitting on the corner of the table. In the corner of the photo is a girl Glacier has run into in the past, under the arm of the Chancellor before her.

  Aleena Staren, an astoundingly awful girl from what Glacier has experienced. Remorseless, and brutal. Beauty like Aleena’s, with her long mahogany waves and crystal blue eyes, is effortlessly overshadowed by her foul personality.

  Glacier’s eyes shift back to the Chancellor, her eyes empty with the memory of her father.

  Dad…

  Glacier crushes her eyes shut, trying to block her last image of him, so stiff and unmoving. A lone tear escapes, trickling down her cheek quickly. Using her shoulder, Glacier wipes her face awkwardly, taking a deep breath.

  “I am sorry about your father.” The Chancellor’s unapologetic voice sounds through her ears.

  Glacier takes no interest. Her only thoughts are of her somehow dreaming up this terrible nightmare. Glacier turns her head away, her eyes still clenched together tightly. The death surrounding her the last few days were returning to haunt her, taunting her soul.

  First Mr Michaels, and now her father.

  Who would be next? Mill? Castor?

  They are the only two left that Glacier cares about.

  “But he resisted the order I had sent with my Guard.” The Chancellor continues, “He was advised that any obstruction of my request would result in the most serious of punishments. He also attacked my personal guards, which itself is a crime punishable by death. He sealed his own fate.”

  His remorseless words torture her with the memory of her fathers’ execution.

  Still, Glacier remains silent, her head facing away in a disrespecting manner. She purses her lips as she tries to move her legs, finding them bound to the chair legs the same as her wrists.

  “Glacier – may I call you that?”

  Still, Glacier sits motionless and unresponsive.

  “I have a proposal for you.”

  The Chancellor now seems excited, despite referring to her fathers’ death seconds ago.

  “I am offering you the opportunity to be part of the Hydra team, in this year’s tournament.” The Chancellor says proudly as he mentions Hydren’s competing team.

  Glacier’s eyes stretch wide with surprise.

  The sixth participant in the tournament has never been chosen from the lower class citizens of any region. It is considered an immeasurable honour to be selected by the Chancellor to represent your region.

  After a moment of disbelief, Glacier’s eyes flash dangerously at the offending Chancellor.

  After what he did, he asks me to be a part of that stupid tournament!

  “Bloody oath, your eyes! How is that possible?” He says when he catches her gaze for the first time. His stare is perplexed, his lips opened in awe.

  Her eyes being two different colours has always been a quality that not many people are fond of. Something that no one has understood.

  Ignoring his reaction, Glacier gapes at his atrocity.

  “You have my father, my only family, executed for protecting me from your brutish men, and then expect me to accept your offer to be the sixth for that barbaric tournament?”

  Her tone is sour, her lips are chapped and her question is massively disrespectful, but Glacier doesn’t care. She is angry.

  “If so, then you can go drown yourself in the lake, because there isn’t any chance I will be doing you any favours.”

  The Chancellors’ ears blush a dark pink from anger at her remarks, but his features are controlled. He had expected this reaction from her. His impervious smirk morphs into a short laugh, before the smile is reclaimed.

  “Miss Wardgrave, when I say offer, that is an exaggeration of the truth. To be honest, you actually have no choice in the matter.” His confidence irks her enormously, but Glacier refuses to let it show. Instead, she raises an eyebrow at his assured statement.

  “You may be the Chancellor of Hydren, but you cannot force me into the tournament without my signature of acknowledgement.”

  Glacier is well aware that she has to sign a waiver before the first battle of the tournament, stating that she is wilfully entering the tournament with full knowledge that she may obtain various injuries whilst competing. If Glacier doesn’t sign it, then she cannot be considered a participant of the tournament.

  Staren’s smirk deepens, enhancing the wrinkles around his eyes as they narrow excitedly.

  “I have methods, Miss Wardgrave. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Her eyes narrow in return as she interprets his silent threat, interested in what ‘method’ he could possibly use that would persuade her decision.

  “I don’t understand why you want me on the team anyway. You would only be embarrassing yourself if you select a latent as your sixth for the tournament.”

  The same uncomfortable tickle she gets whenever she lies nags at her from inside, loudly throbbing with the truth.

  Not latent. I’m not latent…

  The Chancellor’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘latent’.

  “Latent, you say?” He turns to this computer, typing quickly on his keyboard. His eyes barely focus on the screen.

  She nods, “Yes, I was born latent. I have no elemental capability.”

  Glacier is speaking through gritted teeth at this point. But the Chancellor seems to be more interested in what is happening on his computer screen instead of his conversation with her.

  Suddenly his eyes alight with mischief as he glances back to her, “Yes… Very latent-like behaviour…”

  He turns his computer screen towards her, where Glacier can see what seems to be a surveillance video. The image is crystal clear. Glacier watches herself on screen, along with Castor and Mr Michaels.

  There was a surveillance camera there?

  Glacier watches as she covers the little body in the snow, Michaels standing over her body, holding his stun-rod out in front of him. He suddenly forces it forward, stabbing the tip of the rod into her shoulder.

  Her body shivers, remembering the horrid sensation of the electricity pounding through her bones, frying her to her cor
e. The video is silent, but the screams echo in her head. Glacier watches as she glows a vague white, before her body jerks back against the rod. With her movement, largest of shards sprout from the snow and pierce Mr Michaels through the chest, propelling him off the ground.

  A gasp passes her lips as Glacier watches him die a second time, before turning her head away from the offending screen.

  “I don’t know how that happened! All I remember is waking up in my bed with stitches in my forehead, and a wonky nose.”

  The Chancellor regards her with an amused grin as he nods sarcastically in her direction.

  “Well, like I said, you will be the sixth for this year’s tournament. You, my dear will give us the competitive edge we need to win this competition.” Eyes’ twinkling with excitement, the Chancellor leans back in his seat, glancing back at his computer screen.

  “The supposed latent of Hydren is actually an ice elemental! There has never been such a thing! The publicity will be phenomenal. We may actually win this year!” Staren’s animated voice makes her sick, as Glacier imagines the scandal that will surround her.

  Ice elemental? There is no such thing…

  But the more she ponders what happened, it is the only possible excuse she can think of.

  “But I don’t know how to control it… I don’t know how to just, use it…”

  The Chancellor waves his hand, “Don’t worry, my dear. We have arranged everything.”

  Glacier doesn’t realize that Staren has risen from his chair until he is no longer in front of her. Glacier can’t see him, but she can hear the door open behind her, immediately followed by the sound of his voice.

  “Kirra, would you please organize Miss Wardgrave’s travel itinerary to Alluvium. I want her separate from Hydra.”

  Glacier hears a distant ‘Yes sir’, before the door clicks closed, footsteps approaching her like a skip. Staren passes her, but instead of returning to his seat, he sits on the edge of the seat she is in.

  Glacier shakes her head at him in annoyance, “Just because I may be some sort of ice elemental doesn’t mean that I'm going to do what you want, Chancellor. You can’t force my hand. I won’t sign anything.” Her voice is strong, her will stronger. Glacier would not bend to this man, not after her father…

  His lips purse at her rejection, “You’re absolutely right. I can’t force you to sign the wavers…but I have something that might persuade you to reconsider…”

  He bends back over his desk and taps a few keys before leaning back to his sitting position, turning his computer screen to face her once more. Only this time, it is a different video. This one has a little red icon in the top right corner saying it is a live feed.

  Glacier’s breath escapes her, as she finds herself gazing at Castor’s small face. He sits on a seat, snivelling in front of the camera.

  He continuously wipes at his cheeks with his hands, and occasionally with his shoulder. His beautiful black hair is frazzled and tangled. His dirty clothes are rumpled more than usual. His legs hang over the edge of the seat, swinging softly as his body wracks with loud sobs.

  What have they done to you, Castor? Where is Mill?

  Glacier’s mind runs around wildly as she tries to understand where he is, and why they have the sweet little boy.

  It isn’t until Glacier opens her mouth to speak and salty water invades past her lips, that she realizes she is also crying. “Why do you have him?” Her heart beats frantically, her voice breathless with distress.

  He is just a little boy…

  “Castor Price is my form of persuasion, Miss Wardgrave.”

  Her eyes shift from the computer screen to the Chancellor, confused by his response.

  Persuasion?

  “What do you mean he is your form of persuasion?”

  “Your strange element will give our team a strategic advantage. With you, there is a high possibility of winning! So my offer is, after you help Hydra win the tournament—” he then hitches his head to the side, indicating to the computer screen “—Mr Price goes free.”

  Glacier gapes blatantly at him, “You are bargaining the life of an eight-year-old boy for the sake of that damn tournament?” Glacier yells at him in outrage, “What in the world is wrong with you? Do you not understand that he is a person, a little boy, with fears and emotions just like you? You are a sick—”

  With her insulting words, the Chancellor finally loses his cool.

  His forefinger and thumb clasp Glacier’s chin tightly. He brings his face close to hers until their noses are a hair’s width away.

  “This tournament is what my little girl has been training for her whole life, and now that she will be competing, I will do whatever it takes to ensure that she wins! So yes, I am bargaining this little boy’s life for the sake of winning, because my daughter means more than the life of that worthless critter!”

  Her mind has no time to register what she did before Glacier feels the sound slap strike across her left cheek. Pain erupts over the side of her face and across her nose. Glacier feels the harsh tug on her stitches, the disturbing sensation not easily ignored as she leans back to her original sitting position. She sits back to watch the Chancellor wiping the remnants of her spit from his cheek with his handkerchief.

  “You should find yourself extremely lucky you haven’t ended up in the same shoes as your father yet. I wouldn’t push me much farther, my dear…”

  The Chancellor’s words are surprisingly calm, despite his violent outburst.

  “But, if you're sure that you don’t want to be a part of Hydra…well, I’m not sure that you would like to know what will happen to little Castor Price. After all, he was caught stealing. That is still a punishable crime.”

  Her eyes flood with tears, falling faster than a lightning strike. Glacier squeezes her eyes shut and lowers her head in submission.

  I can’t let anything happen to him.

  Glacier’s head flicks up, her eyes narrowing untrustingly at Staren.

  “I want your word, in writing that nothing will happen to him.”

  A disturbing smile splits across the Chancellor’s face. His lips purse and his eyebrows knit together, as he nods his head in agreement.

  Glacier quickly thinks of anything else important to her.

  “And I want to take a personal belonging from my home with me.”

  Staren sighs heavily at her second request, “Fine. But you are only permitted this because I pity you. It’s not every day that someone is unfortunate enough to lose everything.”

  Glacier flinches at his brutal reminder. Fat tears gather at the rim of her eyes. His vicious voice indicates that his remark was intended to spite her. It is then that her father’s voice sounds in her head, telling her to be brave, to shield any weakness, like he always had in the past. Her tears dry and her shoulders square.

  I didn’t lose everything. I lost nearly everything.

  ~

  Before Glacier opens the front door, she momentarily fears that her father’s body is still lying on the ground face down, where she had last seen him. Her hand freezes over the handle as that fear paralyses her from head to toe.

  They wouldn’t leave his body there, would they? They couldn’t be that cruel…

  Glacier takes a deep breath, gripping the brass handle and slowly creeping inside. It is dark outside, so the house is pitch black. Glacier doesn’t turn on the light, fearful there may be a body lying by the sofa. She walks straight to her room, in a hurry to leave.

  Suddenly, light fills the room, banishing every shadow. Glacier spins around to the Chancellor’s guard who had been ordered to accompany her. Her eyes flicker to the hand he lowers from the light switch. He, however, ignores her stare and folds his hands in front of himself, gazing straight ahead.

  With light now illuminating the living room, her eyes are magnetically drawn to the floor in front of the sofa.

  There isn’t a body. Just a large, dried bloo
dstain.

  A shiver courses across her flesh as Glacier remembers her fathers’ vacant eyes before he slumped forward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Glacier turns her head away, taking a deep, calming breath.

  Just go to dad’s room and grab what you need.

  Glacier turns, walking swiftly towards her father’s room. The guard follows close behind, turning on every light in the house on his way.

  “I just want to get something from my father’s room.”

  Glacier walks into her father’s bedroom, surprised when the guard does not follow. She strides over to her father’s work desk, grabbing the small spray vile, an invention of her father’s. From the corner of her eye, she sees her father’s bed sheets rumpled, a few articles of clothing strewn across the floor.

  “Am I supposed to pack clothing?” Glacier calls out to the guard that stands post at the door.

  “No, you will be allocated clothes, courtesy of the Hydren High Chamber representatives. They will be delivered and unpacked at the hotel upon your arrival. You are not to bring anything other than the item you prescribed to the Chancellor.”

  Remembering something else that she wants to take, Glacier lifts her jumper and hides the vile in the waistband of her jeans. The vile sits uncomfortably against her stomach as she pulls the sweater down to cover it, walking out of the room confidently.

  “I couldn’t find it in my father’s room. I’ll quickly check in my room,” Glacier mutters as she strolls past the guard.

  His palm reaches out to grab her forearm, pulling her back. He leans in for her other arm and raises her hands to his face, inspecting them.

  He stares at her disbelievingly, “What’s in your pockets?”

  Glacier act surprised at his question, “Nothing. I said that I may have left it in my room.” Her tone is unwavering as she speaks.