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THE Villa of Mirrors was a day away by coach, located in the city of Milchstrasse. Despite the relatively short journey, we chose to spend the night in a town en route in order to get to the villa just past noon. Daylight would make my job a little bit easier.
The villa stood in the middle of a lake, its white walls reflected in the water. The only normal means of access was by boat, which was how the groundskeepers made their rounds.
The royal family, meanwhile, had no need for boats, as we Eisberks, the kingdom’s most proficient ice magic users, could freeze a path across the surface wide enough for the passage of their broughams. In requesting our assistance, the royal family displayed its trust while we demonstrated our loyalty to the crown.
At one point, during a period when the two families’ relationship had soured, there was an actual bridge. The incident had spawned the idiom “bridging the villa”, which was used as a euphemism for pointless fighting. The idiom served both as a shameful reminder and warning to both families
I knelt before the lake, submerging my palms in the soft, warm water. Praying for Stern’s safe crossing, I worked my magic. A layer of ice spread across the surface with a crackling sound. After freezing a sufficiently large chunk, I stepped atop it. Focusing all my magical energy, I swung my arm, instantly solidifying a strip of the lake from shore to shore.
The servants that had accompanied us went wild. Reflected in the new, translucent bridge was the midsummer sun. Vapor rose from the ice, forming a thin layer of fog underfoot. It must’ve been the carriage horses’ first time navigating such terrain, as they were pawing anxiously at the ground. I smiled, gently stroking their muzzles, which seemed to calm their nerves a little. They responded to my touch with quiet neighs, their breaths foggy.
I walked ahead of the coach, freezing the air around us just in case, kicking up a cloud of diamond dust with every footfall. Whew. So far so good.
After everyone had crossed, I pulled out my sword and sunk it into the foot of the bridge. The structure splintered with a powerful crack, leaving behind an assortment of ice floes. Illuminated by the bright sun, they looked rather picturesque.
I sheathed my sword to a flurry of cheers and applause.
“I knew you could do it!” Stern cried, launching himself into me.
Felzen was unusually quiet.
“Glad I didn’t send you for a swim,” I muttered.
“Me too,” laughed Stern, “or else we’d have to ‘bridge the villa’ again.” The grin on Stern’s face brought one to mine. Never again.
The villa’s interior was gorgeous. The thoroughly polished floor reflected light like a mirror. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkly gold and silver ornaments everywhere in sight; it was as though the royal family’s essence had been condensed into a single area.
We were each assigned different rooms. That’s at least one worry off my mind. My view of the lake was exquisite.
The days that followed were some of the most fun I’d ever had. We dined on our favorite meals in our tiny rooms, could sleep and wake at any time, and had access to a pool table and large garden. And if that wasn’t enough, there was even a nearby town we could go hang out in whenever we felt like it: Milchstrasse, the former royal capital.
While Neue Milchstrasse was the current capital, the denizens of Milchstrasse still saw their city as the real center of the kingdom. To them, “that other town” was just some phony. Their biggest point of pride was the city’s cultural significance, which they considered superior to Neue Milchstrasse’s. Perhaps due to its history, Milchstrasse’s citizens were incredibly receptive and respectful to members of the royal family, as evidenced by their interactions with Stern.
The city had a lot going for it—opera houses, museums, and much more. Before I knew it, my summer vacation sans academy uniform was nearing its end.